The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1911-08-24
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'tsHo' NUFF. ANT GwINE TO TELL NO
 BODY" sand"
 Mark laughed.
 ''You're not much at figures" he said. 'No, sah, ain't got no larnen."
 Uncle, I shan't want anything of you while I am hyar, but you must have somep'n to remember me by all the same" and Mark put a new crisp dollar greenback in the old mans hand.
 "Bress de Lo'd, you is de fines spe- cermon ob a DO white gentleman eber had de facilatude ob meeten."
 Well, don't spoil it all by tellen t'other hands. Keep it to yourself"
 "Sho' huff. I ain't gwine to tell mo- body"
 Mark left Uncle Daniel chuckling on his barrel and strolled about the grounds. Presently he found himself walking near the front of the house. The mother and daughter sat on the veranda in the moonlight. Presently the daughter came down the steps and advanced to where Mark was lettering. Mamma says that if you like you may-she would be pleased to have you come up and sit on the veranda." '"Thank you" Mark was about to lift his hat in his usual deferential manner, but suddenly remembered that he was not supposed to be gen. tleman. He followed the girl up to the veranda, and she placed a seat for him near where they were sitting.
 'Your brother is a good deal young CT than you," said the mother when Mark was seated.
 "Oh, yes, ma'ann; he is ten years younger"
 'You don't resemble each other at all. You are light and he is dark" "So we don't. Jakey is my stepbroth- CT, you know"
 "He seems to be peculiar child" 'Yas, Jakey, he is peculiar, very pe- culiar, ma 'am."
 eYou haven't told us yonr name yet" said the mother.
 "slack. I'm Farmer Stacks son. 'How many field hands does, your fatber own?"
 Father, he don't own no niggers at all. We're just only poor whites
 "You're very frank about it," said Laura.
 "Waal, there ain't no use maken pur- tensions
 "And you go to Chattanooga tomor- row?" asked the mother.
 "Yas, ma'am; l caPlate ter do some traden thar"
 And you will return this way?"
 CT reckon I'll be along hyar in few days"
 The mother arose and walked with all the stateliness of a southern high born matron into the house. There she resumed the book she had been reading earlier in the evening.
 Mark had kept up his assumed char acter very we'll during her presence. Now that he was left alone with the daughter he was pat to a much Sc. verer test. He had been so used from his childhood to meet a refined bear ing with one equally refined that he found it difficult to avoid doing So now.
 Don't you love to look at the stars, MT. Slack? ?" asked the young lady.
 "Waal, yas, Miss
 'My name is Laura Fain.'
 T hev always been fond O the sci ence of''- He paused; he suddenly re- membered that poor white trash'' were not usually versed in any of the sciences.
 Astronomy she supplied.
 "Waal, yas."
 'How did you come to learn astron- omy?"
 'Oh, I don't know nothen bout it, he said quickly. II hearn a man at Jasper taken onct He said heap O. guar things"
 ''What bright star is that?' pointing.
 ''Fenus, I reckon"
 T wonder how far 1t fs from us? ?'' she said musingly.
 Venus? Why, Venus is. sixty eight millions of miles, I reckon
 "I happen to know that's a correct answer"
 Mark suddenly became conscious of having forgotten himself. He recol- lected his critical position and resolved to proceed with greater care.
 A'How far is the moon?'' asked Miss Fain.
 'The moons a hundred million miles, I reckon
 "Oh, no. You're far out of the way there. It's only about two hundred and forty thousand miles,"
 ''Waal, nowr' exclaimed Mark in we'll feigned surprise.
 She looked searchingly at him, but Mark looked as if he had simply re- ceived an interesting piece of informa- tion.
 Do you like poetry?' she asked. changing the subject.
 "Some'at"
 My favorite poet is Tennyson. Is he yours too?"
 This was dangerous ground for Mark. He had a special fondness for poetry, and was more likely to betray himself on this than on any other subject.