Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1912-04-02

lSome one had told him of seeing in a
window in Curryville beans that jump
ed about like grasshoppers, and ever
since he had cherished the hope OF
witnessing the phenomenon with his
lown eyes. He drove his horses to the
curbing, and descended.
A tall man on the outskirts of the
crowd, whose height enabled him to
look over the heads Of the others, was
explaining something to his shorter
companion. BEST likeness of the old
skinflint you ever saw. But the queer
part Of it is, that he's up in the Widow
Barrows' tree. You can see her cot
,tage just beyond"
Simeon must have made an invol-
untary sound. The tall man looked
down on him, and became silent. And
then, as If by magic, lane. was open
ed through the crowd. Simeon ad-
vanced blinking to the window. There
he blinked again.
The summer fabrics usually dis
/
been arranged to make background
for a picture, a rather large carbon
enhancement in an oak frame. 1t was
a rustic scene. In the foreground was
a pear tree; and a white cottage, with
a Virginia creeper over the piazza,
showed just beyond.
But 1t was the man picking pears
who was the center of observation.
He stood at the top Of the ladder,
basket on his arm, with his crafty
face turned toward the road. No stu
dent of physiognomy would have been
likely to make the mistake OF the
photographer when he said, HE was
picking your fruit on shares, I sup
pose." Every line in the tense figure
was eloquent of stealth and watchful-
ness. The startled look on the face
was that Of the thief taken by sur
prise. And while Simeon French
looked at the picture, the crowd look
ed at him.
Five minutes later Mr.. Ross held an
interview with a man that was not In
terested in the buying Of dry goods.
but who intimated that the exhibition
of the picture in the window was suf-
fcient ground for libel suit. Mr..
Ross thought differently.
THE picture is Mrs. Barrows' prop
erty," he said. Its a rather fine piece
of work. Perhaps you are not inter-
ested in artistic matters, Simeon, but
you may take my word for it that II
is good. Your happening to be there
at the time the picture was taken
makes it a, little awkward for you.
But dare say you can explain that"
Simeon French did not try to ex-
plain. He was conscious that his ac-
uuaintances were eager to have him
do that very thing, and his natural
obstinacy came to the aid Of his COM
mon sense, which told him that ex-
plantations would make a bad matter
worse.
Something that he could not resist
drew him into town day after day, and
daily he saw the crowds about the
show window Of the dry goods empo-
rum. When the men at the postof-
flee talked of the fruit crops he fan
cied a sneer under their drawing
commonplaces. He spoke roughly TO
boy on the street one day, and the
youngster withdrew to a safe distance,
shouting "Pear-tree French and took
to his heels The county paper refer
red in an ambiguous paragraph to a
work of art in the show window OF
Ross emporium. which is attracting
much attention" SimeCn wrote next
day and stopped his subscription.
There are limits to the endurance
of flesh and blood. The lonely man,
without even the faith and friendship
of a dog to sustain him, brooded day
and night over what had befallen him
and knew at last that he was beaten.
He went down the road one night to
the next cottage, resolved that the
thing should end. When Mrs. Bar
rows opened the door for him, the
sight Of his yellow face, which seemed
to have aged suddenly, startled her
so that she drew back with a little
cry.
| Simeon French advanced into the
room, and took the seat Lucy onered
him. For a moment nothing was said.
But each of the three could hear the
deep breathing of the other two. When
Simeon broke the silence his voice
was a snarl II want to know ne
said, how long this is going to last"
| 1t was Lucy who answered him.
What do you mean, Mr. FTench?'
81 want to know how long that pic
ture's going to be kept there, making
a laughing stock Of me?" His voice
broke, even in his rage: and Mrs. Bar
rows gazed at him pityingly.
| But Lucy's voice was absolutely bus
mess like as she replied: I'VE haven't
decided on that, Mr. French, but Mr..
Ross will naturally want to keep 1t
lup till after the county fair. 1t at
tracts attention, you know, and he
lhopes it will be quite a drawing card
then"
He had thought Of that, and ne
writhed at the picture the girls words
drought before him-the country peo-
pie focking into town, standing in alb
sorbed groups before the picture In
Ross window, discussing it later
bandying his name from mouth to
mouth with mockery and laughter.
His lips twisted, and with difficulty
he kept back a groan. Lucy" he said,
pleadingly, IF you'll give me that pic
ture, I'll pay you for the pears"
And the cherries, too?" Lucy asked.
The sudden creaking of the rocking
chair was the only answer for the mo-
lment Simeon French gasped and
glared. Then he heard himself say
ling, Yes, and for the cherries"
Mrs. Barrows seemed on the point
lof speaking. A hot, tremulous hand
Iclutched hers just as her lips parted;
and she closed them without word
You have made a mistake, MIR.
.o;l no, oricn1v "Naithpr