Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1913-04-28
THE EVENING STORY
The Feudist. ~

no man unchristian enough to call at
| tention to a misfortune occasioned by
his own kin: misfortune which COM
| pels the writing of left-handed elegies."
Now. this curious way of running
feud didn't excite ridicule, for the very
good reason that Jim Moonlight was
known as fierce and determined man.
People suspected that his wound had
made him q little peculiar. but recognized
the good sense of letting a personal quar-
rel rest till the echoes of civil war had
died away. and so there was a truce in
| the country all around. Dupres and
PenrOses were soon ransacking their
family trees like squirrels to furnish ma
terial, for Jim would sometimes ring in
| an ancestor to ease the shock of a mans
reading his own living relatives death
notices. How each side would gloat when
he wrote something particularly nice
about one of 'em.
Meantime, the children of the duel
were growing up and breathing in the
hatred of their two aristocratic feudist
| mothers. One day when Rose Dupre
was a sweet little lass of twelve she
came into Jim's office carrying a scrap
book
1.-The poems about our family are very
NICE" she said, so l brought my scrap
| book to show how l paste them all
| down.. Jim looked at the book and
presently the. little girl whispered so
closely that her breath warmed his
cheek: Mother says the Penrose verses
are lies. | thought maybe that just the
one printed this week might be true"
You mean the one printed about a
young chap named Henry who lived In
| England two hundred years ago." She
nodded, and Jim, taking the shears.
| slowly cut out the poem from the paper
on his desk.
Rose held the scrap in her hand. I'm
glad it's true" she said; me was
brave, good boy. wasn't he?''
Yes; but they've changed nightly"
! replied Jim. She said nothing to this
but finding the paste pot at hand sud-
denly wet the scrap and fixed it on a
blang page; then. blushing and turning
| pale by turns. she drew back as though
afraid Of the book.
Run along" said Jim. only you'd
best not say that you have a Penrose
+! in your book
Never" she whispered, and hurried
out with the book in her arms. The other
child of the duel was now a handsome
youth of that same name-Henry PEN
rose.
Now, that was pretty good sign that
Rose was already thinking deeply of her
little enemy, but five or six years more
drifted by before young Harry's thoughts
We're turned toward her by blunder Of
old Jim s; he published that same verse
about the English Henry and labeled it:
"Republished from an enemy's scrap
book
Naturally nobody gave any particular
thought to this except Harry himself.
he suddenly felt strong desire to know
what enemy was treasuring this sonnet
to his namesake. and looked hard at
Rose when they met on the street. She
felt the question in his ewes: she raised
her own, and the secret was out
Since that terrible Easter Sunday
those two had never spoken. but Harry
soon felt his family pride break before
his love for this girl >He contrived to
meet her near her house one evening,
and the upshot Of 1t all was that two
despairing young people finally decided
TO let their lives go to wreck rather
than disgrace their families. So Jim
Moonlight was slowly working up
genuine epic.
| This wasn't the worst The younger
generation who hadn't seen. war were
growing FESTIVE under this old enmity
which their elders satisfied by silent
dislike. or by quoting their own superb
ority in verses Harry now deliberately
stirred up hornets nest hoping to get
killed himself and both families showed
signs of the necessity for an old-fashion-
ed blood-letting.'
Il feel that way myself said Jim
Moonlight, and went about rubbing his
| hands. Meeting Rose on the street
he said: I've hursed this three-cornered
feud along till there's some real fight
ing stock in the ranks.
She loo ed at him with horror. and
| then catching his arm said quickly: Il
must seq Harry Penrose: they will kill
him and it will be nothing less than
murder
Sure said Jim, hitching his wound
ed shoulder; III send him down to that
old farm house in the corner of your
plantation. where Aunt Becky lives. this
evening"
Jim not only gave Harry the message
but went with him, and while lettering
overtaken by Rose. Jim struck the door
a thuhderous crack with his fist pushed
it open and the three entered upon old
Mrs. Penrose and Nine. Dupre.
pocn n
cal.y that it was almost vengeance
enough for him to see his enemies dis
graced by such treachery in their lead
ers. We'll. here's not only treachery
but Disgrace he laughed mockingly;
the old ones forswear 'emsefves and the
young ones want to get married.
The two aristocratic old ladies faced
their rough accuser, flushed and high
ly indignant. I'VE have met here"
began Mrs. Penrose falteringly.
''As friends-yes, as friends" finished
Nine. Dupre, raising her hand. why it
was you with your endless poems, harp
the distress and loneliness of women wild
owed in battle-estranged by the heart
less feuds and wars of men. 1 came to
long for my old friend. afflicted as I
was; for years we have met secretly
with only old Becky as a witness. There
will be no more secrecy; 1 have been
.cowardly; afraid OF the ,taunts of rela-
tives, but will no longer submit the
wicked men like YOU AS for these
young. people. God bless them"
+ Rose had crept up almost between the
two looking steadfastIy into Jims face;
then she tugged at his, shoulder. and as
he leaned over kissed his cheek ,"Here
is a greater hypocrite," she said laugh 4
ing and CRYING: The has been in this
secret with Becky all along. And some
thought him mad with brooding re-
venge. when in truth he has sent ring
ing through this county a refrain of
widows and their children-the lament
which follows fighting men. Our eyes
and minds have been blind to his mean
ing, but our hearts have heard his SER
mon."
Jim was cornered, and the old guerrilla
was terribly scared and embarrassed.
You see. folks" he said weakly, Il
rose up with my broken shoulder on
the day Of the duel thinking that the
grass of old Wilowfields would be
stained with the blood Of factions. And
that lifelong feuds would rage about
those two wailing children. So 1 de-
clared a feud of my own and
Don't you all quarrel any more" he
exclaimed angrily. backing out of the
room. because I've run out Of poetry
and you'd have to fight it OUT
Gen. Wampum, who had listened in
tently to this "Reminiscences, sighed medi-
tativey.
The story hasn't much Of a moral"
yawned Blivens, except, of course in
the case of the old women Jim Moon
light, like a man of sense knew that
old cronies are necessary to each other;
each one only needed a hint that the
other missed her Qreatiy-and thora vou