The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1910-04-20
THE LANDING.
Farmers Wife'S Fight With the
SnOW-HOund,

The old cuckoo clock on the mantel
shelf whirred rustily. and a headless
cuckoo hoped out. cuckooed
o'clock, and retired jerkily. In the
darkness without a sudden sally Of
wind, sweeping with flaws of snow
ard sleet, roared in the wide chin
ney. From outside the big rudy
walled kitchen faint little twitters
and %quavering "ba-as" came in each
lull of the snowy wind.
Not long for t. first 'un." old Meg
said, pitching a great pile of wood on
the bubbling fire. "Soon after two
ovid Blacky, for t. past five yeer at
ony rate, has been regular as tn owd
cuckoo there"
She filled the big milk can by the
fire with steaming milk, and bent to
arrange the rampant of f1annels in
the corner. A furry of snow came,
impalpable as dust, beneath the rat
ting door. Through the deep-set
window one could see it whirling and
jigging through the blackness of the
early morning. A yellow lantern
tossed like a fallen comet among the
outbuildings and f1ickered out again.
Meg ceased stirring the milk and lis
tened.
"Hark!" she said, her old blue
veined hand uplifted.
In the low symphony of "ba-as'
and twitterings outside a tiny cry of
complaining rose suddenly. The Ian
tern light cleaned in the flying snow,
mems voices sounded. Meg bent
down to her milk can.
First 'un!" she said solemnly.
1.-The Lord send a good lambin'!"
The door opened with a swift
sparkle of snow and an icy rush of
air. Old William entered, stamped
the snow from his feet. Something
that whined and cried bulged beneath
the driving rug he wore.
"Owd Blacky, as usual" he said,
putting the ridiculous little bundle of
long legs and stupid face, bleating,
into Meg's lap. Another quavering
cry came from outside.
They're comm gradely now.
William said, pulling at the big jug
On the oven top.
The door closed behind him. Meg,
with her red arms bare, poured warm
milk down the avid throat Of the
long-legged thing on her knee, and
bundled it in flannel as the door
opened again.
"Welly near gone, this 'un," Will
lam said briefly.
Lord save t. rest!" said Meg,
without any ir~reverence.
The limp silent bundle with long
logs hanging piteously quiet sprawled
across her knee. The red arms
worked like fails, pummeling the
snow-chilled thing, drumming on the
pulseless ribs, siding swiftly over
the almost dead spine, kneading the
cold flesh. A faint bleat sighed up
from the thin throat, the legs
twitched The sweat on
Meg's brow glistened in the lamp
| light, her swaying shadow sprawled
lalf across the stone floor . E.
The white bundle cried and struggled
and the battle was won.
That battle. But there were 9TH
ers. The big kitchen was full Of
| plaintive bleatings and whimperings.
Little kicking balls of wool and fan
mel stirred in the shadow of every
corner. Little still bundles that
would never kick, victims snatched
by the snow-hound that roared out
side, lay quiet.
"'Save no more'll co. Meg said,
pummeling the warm life into the
frozen thing on her knee. Winter,
ridin' on t. bullock O. spring, is hor-
riDle bad for the lambies. Eth, dear"
William. tramped in with an icy
blast of snow.
Zone O. tn ewes goin'," he said
shortly, pulling a handful of medi-
cine bottles from the cupboard.
The great fire-lit kitchen was alive
with the newborn. Two score.
whining and bleating, half a dozen
still and cold. The headless cuckoo
had whirred three times. Outside
the snow had ceased, and far down
in the cup of the whitened hills an
early morning train crawled like a
yellow gloW-worm. A faint confu-
sion of sound from the Herdwick
ewes, gathered from the stony wilds
of the mountains where they roamed
timid as goats half the year, foated
with the drifting snow through the
chinks of the rafting door. Old
Meg in the rudy kitchen still fought
with the snow-hound. A lusty young
lamb tumbled blindly along the stone
floor and tripped over a brother that
lay cold and dead. Meg's tireless red
arms worked like a windmill, pum-
melting, caressing, feeding and fight
ing grimly.
The light cine slowly up out of
the east, whitening the great creased
cloth of the hills, striking rosily the
glistening shoulder of the Snake.
The world developed slowly like a
Photographic negative, rising white
ly from the black of the morning.
Inside the stables faint little wnim-
perings and Stockings and scuflings
sounded. Old Meg, tired-eyed and