Keowee courier. [volume] (Pickens Court House, S.C.) 1849-current, 1913-04-02
i. Il = - i i. i. i. !. j. j. y
Il A STORY OF THE ~
.% WHITE PLAGUE, .s
i. \ 4. II !. i. j. Il .s + :. y
(New York World.l

~ saw WV ahAOh VIA
ton from an Asheville train-to ali
appearances a stranger-weak and
emaciated.
Nobody noticed his ~faltering steps,
his slow movements, the hectic flush
along the cheek bones and the sunken
eyes. Nobody looked at him until
he picked up his worn valise, and,
making his way outside, walked to.
a nearby restaurant. He asked for
a glass OF milk.
Then something in the tone Of the
hollow voice awoke memories in the
breast OF the woman wb~ bent over.
the restaurant counter to ask again
his pleasure.
MILK he said. Just a glass of
milk, ma'am. l can't eat anything"
And his head dropped almost to
his narrow chest as a pitiful cough
shook him. 1t was hollow and low
and dry, ending with a choking SEN
sation that caused the victim to fin
ger his throat as q child would a rat
tie. And he did 1t unconsciously, as
If 1t were raw and bleeding-as If to
allay the pain that must have been
there.
Poor SOUL" said the woman as
she. turned away to get the milk.
Fred died with that. God help him.
He looked just like this chap here
when he went South-so poor and
thin and ~peaked-like. And he was
so hopeful when we SEN him away"
She poured out a glass OF milk
from a big white pitcher in the ice
box, and as she stood with her back
turned to the consumptive, resumed
her conversation to her companion
behind the counter, almost as If mus
ing OF the long ago: And he never
came back to me till winter-but he
couldn't feel the cold, cause he was
dead"
She tried to smile as she stepped
up to the counter and passed out the
glass Of milk to the frail creature
seated on the high stool in front, but
two big tears trickled down her red
cheeks and dropped upon the black
shirtwaist. 1t was a brave smile,
full Of courage and hope and
agement to the creature before her.
He did not see, nor seem to care.
Slowly he reached out and put the
glass to his colorless lips, his badly
sunken eyes,, shorn of all sense of
perception, fixed ahead as If in a stu
por.
The man tasted the milk in deep
meditation, as Il his life were pur-
poseless. without energy or ambition.
He said nothing, and his thin hands
moved about, the Nbony fingers tap
ping the glass, then smoothing It's
sides caressingly, as If clinging to the
slender threat Of life that remained
"a thread so slender and worn and
Trail h a It seemed to be slipping
away FROM human vision into the
n~othingness of night. The patter OF
c~hlldren's feet, the incessant jangle
OF telephone bells and the steady
hum Of conversation, all passed un-
needed, ~unperceived by the man at
the counter.
AT last he stepped down and faced
the II who waited upon him a mo-
ment ago. His risiru hand sought(his
trousers pocket, and, fumbling about,
was slowly withdrawn. He started
to say something, but that hollow.
rasping, pitiful cough shook him un-
til the slender fingers again sought
the throat, around which the flesh
was tight and drawn and the cords
stood out in contrast.
The woman, who had, all unseen
removed the glass and broken It in q
garbage can, stood before him with
a forced smile, as If she did not like
to look pom him. His voice was
low, indistinct. 81 cannot pay Won,
Miss. All I had went to the hospi-
tai"
There was no emotion in the voice
that spoke;. no intent to appeal or
hnpress-it was an echo of despair.
The woman babe him. in kindly
tones, to Danish the incident from
his mind.
And Just then a child of tender
years, with pretty, jet-black hair
braided down her shoulders, rushed
up to the man, whose clothes seemed
railing from his frame--a voice filed
with 9ladness and expectancy: ooh,
ther9 YOU are, papa. looked alt
over for YOU. Guess | must be late