The Blackfoot optimist. [volume] (Blackfoot, Idaho) 1907-1918, 1915-01-14

want is that he shall have the chance
to make the best of his life"
Il reckon Samson don't need NO
rotched-on help ter make folks ac4
knowledge him."
Every man needs his chance. He
can be great painter-but that's thel
least part of 1t. He can come back
equipped for anything that life offersj
Here, he is wasted"
Eye mean"-she put the questions
with hurt quaver in her voice-"yeI
mean we all hain't good enough forj
Samson?'
mo. l only mean that Samson wants.
to grow-and he needs space and new
scenes in which to grow. l want tol
take him where he can see more of the
world-not only little section of the
world. Surely, you are not distrustful
of Samson's loyalty? want him to goI
with me for a while, and see life"
Don't We say HIT" The defiance in
her voice was being pathetically tam
gled up with the tears. She was
speaking in transport Of grief. DON'T
We say hit. Take anybody else-take'
EN- all down thar, but leave us Sans
son. We needs him hyar. We've jest
got ter have Samson hyar."
She faced him still with quiveringt
lips, but in another moment. with a.
sudden sob, she dropped to the rock
and buried her face in her crossed
arms. He went over and softly laid
a hand on her shoulder.
Miss Sally" he began.
She suddenly turned on him tear
stained, Infatuated face. stormy with
blazing eyes and wet cheeks and
trembling lips.
Don't touch me-" che cried; don't
We dare ter touch me! hain't nothin'
but a gal-but reckon l could most!
tear We ter pieces. Ye're jest a pizen
snake, anyhow" Then, she pointed a
tremulous finger of up the road. Cit
away from hyar," she commanded. Il
don't never want ter see ye again.,
Ye're tryin' ter steal everything 1
loves. Git away, tells ye!-git away
-begone!"
Think it over" urged Lescott, quiet
ly. See If your heart doesn't say am
Samson's friend-and yours" He
turned, and began making his way
over the rocks; but, before he had
gone far, he sat down to reflect upon
the situation. Certainly. he was not
augmenting his popularity. A half
hour later, he heard rustic, and,
turning, saw Sally standing not far off.
She was hesitating at the edge of the
underbrush, and Lescott read in her
eyes the effort it was costing her to-
come forward and apologize.
Il reckon-I reckon I've got ter ask
yore pardon" she said, slowly and with
labored utterance. He looked up to-
see her standing with her head droop-
ing and her fingers nervously pulling a
flower to pieces.
Il reckon l hain't plumb fool. Il
knows tibet Samson's got right ter
eddication. Anyhow, knows he wants
hit"
Education" said the man, isn't go
ing to change Samson, except to make
him finer than he is-and more
capable"
She shook her head. II hain't got
no eddication," she answered. Hits
a-goin' ter make him too good fer ME.
reckon hits a-goin' ter jest about
kill me. :" Her lips twisted
themselves into pathetic smile again,
and her chin came stifly up. But
she added, determinedly, tibet don't
make no difference, nohow."
Yet, when Samson that evening gave
his whippoorwill call at the Widow
Miller's cabin, he found detected and
miserable girl sitting on the stile, with
her chin propped in her two hands and
her eyes full Of somberness and fore-i
boding.
What's the matter, Sally?" ques-i
toned he, anxiously. "Hes that low-I
down Tamarack Spicer been round
here tellin' ye some more stories ter
poster ye?"
She shook her head in silence.j
Usually, she bore the brunt of their,
conversations, Samson merely agree-s
ing with, or overruling, her in lordlyI
brevities. The boy climbed up and sat-
beside her.
"Thar's a-goin' ter be a dancin'l
party over ter Vile McCager's mill
come Saturday" he insinuatingly sug-:
gested. Il reckon yen go over thar
with me, won't We, Sally?"
He waited for her usual delightedi
assent, but Sally only told him absent
ly and without enthusiasm that she
would study about it," At last, how
ever, her restraint broke, and, looking,
up, she abruptly demanded:
Air We a-goin' away, Samson?"
Who's been a-talkin ter ye?" de-,
manded the boy, angrily.
For moment. the girl sat silent
Finally, she spoke in a grave voice:
"Hit hain't nothin' ter git mad about
Samson. The artist man lowed as how
We had right ter go down thar, AMI
git an eddication." She made a weary
gesture toward the great beyond,
HE hadn't ought to of told vel
Sally. II I'd been plumb sartin in my
mind. I'd a-told ye myself-not butt
what l knows" he hastily amended