The Tabor independent. [volume] (Tabor, S.D.) 1913-19??, 1913-11-13


Try 70 ma assertion In tine ar Of tine
north.
Michigan looked at him crafty; he
knew Johns mood Of murder. and AL
bert, the fool vas tempting Il. TT,
coolin," muttered the patriarch
this way. It's time the fodder was In
well. well" said the peddler with
his cracked gaity there's work for
Knute and Peter after school thia
week."
The wife glanced up. would they
never get OF this topic OF the school
Ing. John put his heavy hand across
Therein be no more schooling"
"Ah, joint" the wife walled, -will
you ruin an all with your pride
Theren be an honest way for all yet!s
The peddler fidgeted with the but.
ton OF ON church league on hid
lapel Down In his crouching soul
some faith fiickered which gave him q
martyrs comfort against Johns as
celtic will. "The Lord will provide"
he snified--"the Lord be by We, John
He was facing the winter In his scan.
ty summer suit, but ! he could give
cheerfully his two dollars to the FAM
lily Of It ''wast Lords work.
Lords providing, and mot MANS
growled John, and he fiayed them al
again with his truculence. He hat
changed In the night from q stolid, ye
aii-carfng father to an inward-burn
ing fanatic. q hunted outlaw Of spirit
They Gould not voice the fright b
gave them. When he looked at hi
sons they could not eat no fearful wer
they OF this new father, thin man d
the jail. His glance went about tn
silent faces. where's Aureli7 Th
girls not here" he went on.
shes plannin. her new drass," II
mother Quayered, with some woma.
In town. She'd have It new now. an.
school John, man, she'd be b pref
test Of them all with the n-w dresa
Michigan here, he tried to save tn,
money, didn't ye, uncle3" 49,.
Michigan laughed softly; his hair
face lit up. The scared lads let down
from their strain. Aureliel She coult
brighten even the meagernesa Of the
quarry shanty, then.
"She's too much attention now
growled John! shes got some French
trick OF making every 1oRfer at tn,
billiard corner look at her. She's bet
ter away from gowns and parties
aye, and that priest from EarlviiL
over every month to talk to her. I'll
not havA it--she's too much In tn,
towns eye for q decent girl"
BE still," Knute blurted out of thu
sob In his throat shes coming"
The eyes of all followed to the door
Even John did not raise his black hu.
NOR now she was here. She was II
the door listening with q trifie of self
consciousness. the long lashes Of ha
eyes Quivering. Then she was among
them, dropping breathlessly, rs !
from o rum. into the chair at Michi.
gan's side, and looking about with al
odd defiant gaiety. Then she held hei
plate forth decisiyely, with a childt
prompting. ~ IT 5
Mother, I'm hungry. Sos Peter
she caught UP the boys plate and heil
1t, with q bright stdelong glance OF AT,
lection at the tow-headed Danish boy
The woman helped them with a muir.
muir. Mtchigan's black secured paw
came to Aurelie's slim hand under tn
table Then she kissed him.
It was a strange drama In tn
acrtd assembling OF human feel
ing that held in the quarryulant
house. But 1t stood like a bloom
against their meagerness. She hat
called the gaunt cracker womer
mother" but she could not have beer
farther from them all II she had
stepped from a child's story book. TIT
LWo AObIcE pIOlIlSTb NOOhou Win uI1'
easy fondness on this daughter Of thu
south who was scolding them now In
Some playful vivacity for their dirty
hands. When she talked she leaned In
q pose whose grace again detached hel
from them all, a thing not to be helped
or hindered, SO aative was 1t to her
so foreign to their breeding.
Aurelie had changed amazingly from
the barbaric Nlild heart of her Louis
lana days which h had run away tc
the Catun balls, kneeling to fix q
woven cap Of hyacinths in her hair al
she stared at her reflection In the
water, and battling the lumbermer
with her French OF the swamp people
She was slender now, but q 1.-THE CIR
and not a child: her face was dark
mobile, tender or at times hard; hei
black eyes had the flash Of rebelliout
tempers and coaxing temptations--ths
Dane boys adored her, yet not even die
little Peter for an instant suppose she
was his real sister. Everything about
her, her grace, her quickness, hel
nimble tongue: her little rosary huns
on the white bureau In the tiny cham
Der Just on the kitchen, whose door
she had hung In red chintz; her habit
Of taking early coffee. black, thick
drugging-.which Michigan made a
rising and brought to her bedside
where she slipped II and chartered with
the old bootlegEer-her definat asser.
ton that she was q Catholic, whateval
that meant, her smatter of French and
Spanish; her memories Of wild and
wonderful years, which now, In thu
crowded discomfort of the quarry
home, took on the aspect of unthink.
able romance-all these set her Of
fr~m the whole world.
-
6Co-At,r.d -n- -