Spirit of the age. [volume] (Woodstock, Vt.) 1845-1913, 1910-01-29
JOHN ANDREWS
THE COWARD,
The Way He Acted When the
Fearful Cyclone Came.
BY MARVIN DANA.

into n horizons SKY OF hppullinS
bronze. His sight was blurred 10y
dancing currents of hot air. In the
shade of the hotel porch the thermom'
eter registered ITO degrees, and there
yet remained two -sweltering hours
before sunset.
THANK heaven. I've inspected the
last acre and can start for New York
in the morning." was his thought. In
stinctlvely his hand touched his peck
ct and her letter. He smiled, then
frowned.
"Am a cowardT
A paragraph in her letter had start
ed the self inquisition.
IT shall be so glad when you are
safe home again." 1t ran, "even
though / have no real cause for
alarm. You are so big and strong and
brave, and l love you for 1t l could
never love coward"
Was he one? Yes-no! A flush not
born of the sun flooded his face. His
mind travelled back twenty-four hours,
and he cursed his weakness, his timid-
ity, which he had never realized until
that awful storm had broken. 1t was
Wlleu luG lCIllhI pNNh'A''A W
this region had played about him that
he had suddenly found himself trem-
bling, gasping with horror. The mem
DRY of those moments still sickened
him and filed him with contemptuous
self hate.
The proprietor of the hotel came out
and balanced on two legs of chair
beside his guest.
"Reckon Wen have another bit of q
shower tonight" he drawled amiably.
The careless words filed his listener
with dumb anguish, half fear, half
shame. Must he again endure that
racking torment-the blue glare of
electricity, the deadly cracking of the
bolts, the horrible realization that
multiple death Knocked him from every
side?
81 don't see any Clouds" he ven
tured.
"You can tell weather same as you
can cloth. more by feelin' than by
looks. I've been forty years in these
parts, an l calc'late We'll have it ham
mer an tongs before midnight. Lucky
If regular cyclone don't blow along
with it,"
Does lightning do much damage
around hereP'
Burns lot of barns mostly; but,
takin' it one time an another, we've
had quite a few folks killed, bout
twenty in my time. It's nice. easy
death, but 1 don't like cyclones. One
hit me, an that was enough. The
burned thing killed off half the town,
includln' all my best friends an four
mules, which was all | was worth.
Cyclones, blast 'em, always come in
the night. when you can't see EN-"
The listener drew his breath sharply.
But how do you tell cyclone, even
in daytime?"
"Well, Mr.. Andrews, you can always
tell 1t because the sky looks like moth
in you've ever seen before-yellow,
green an ornery. An If it's comm
your way you'll see what the papers
call a funnel shaped cloud, but what
looks more like big balloon, dancin'
along. When the gale raises an that
balloon seems to stop bouncin', but
stands still, gettin' bigger an bigger,
you dust for cellar. It's close"
"Do all the places here have cyclone
cavesT'
Everybody In town amt got one,
but there's, enough to go round. Want
to see mineP'
Any diversion from his mental an
guish and self pity was welcome tc
Andrews, and he followed his host tC
the middle of the back yard, where hi
saw q mound of earth. In the enc
nearest them was swinging shutter
which the landlord raised. Within was
space for perhaps six persons com
fortably placed by crowding compact
ly. Twice or even thrice that number
might seek refuge for limited time
The odor of damp earth suggested the
grave, and again Andrews shuddered.
BY the time he sought his room at II
o'clock that night Andrews hnd argued
himself into believing that this new
terror of storm and wind was a con
stitutional peculiarly for which ht
was not morally culpable, and, ex
hausted by heat and mental strain, III
quickly dropped asleep.
He aweke with the trump of doom
bursting his eardrums. The crash o.
falling thunderbolt brought him t.
, his feet, ana ne StOOu uaZeu aLnlu TIT
lurid radiance of the lightning. In al
ecstasy of fear he sprang to the win
dow and closed it. Then he drew thu
shade and struck match. Two flick
cred and died in his trembling hant
before he could light the lamp. In {
very spasm of horror he sat huddlet
on his bed. He thought of no one ant
nothing save himself and-death!
But there remained another note We
to be sounded In the gamut Of his ter
ror. Suddenly the hotel commenced t.
shake and reel under the assaults o
the wind. With cringing dismay h
recalled the landlords warning agains
cyclones In the night. At any momen
one might burst upon him, resistless
remorseless, overwhelming. Within
him rose the instinct, of fight. To tn,
cave, to safetyt~
Mechanically in the midst of hi
alarms he dressed himself, and as h.
stepped into the dark hall he recoi!et