Five Mile Beach weekly journal., 1915-07-30

Aa
she added, determinedly, tibet don't
make no diff 'rence, nohow."
Yet, when Samson that evening gave
his whippoorwill call at the Widow
MiIler's cabin, he found a detected and
miserable girl sitting on the stile, with
her chin propped in her two hands and
her eyes full of somberness and fore
boding.
What's the matter, Sally?" ques-
toned he, anxiously. Hes that low
down Tamarack Spicer been round
here tellin' ye some more stories ter
poster ye?"
She shook her head in silence.
Usually, she bore the brunt of their
conversations, Samson merely agree
ing with, or overruling, her in lordly
brevities. The boy climbed up and sat
beside her.
"Thar's a-goin' ter be a dancin.-
party over ter Vile McCager's mill
come Saturday" he insinuatingly sug-
gested. 81 reckon yell go owe thar
with me, won't we, Sally?"
He waited for her usual delighted
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 ye a-goin' away, Samson?"
Who's been a-talkin' ter ye?" de-
manded the boy, angrily.
For a moment, the girl sat silent.
Finally, she spoke in a grave voice:
Hit hain't nothin' ter git mad about,
Samson. The artist mar lowed as how
ye had a right ter go down thar, an
git an eddication." She made a weary
gesture toward the great beyond.
He hadn't ought to of told We.
Sally. If I'd been plumb sartin in my
mind, I'd a-told ye myself-not but
what l knows" he hastily amended,
tibet he meant hit friendly"
"Air We a-goin'?"
I'm studyin' about hit"
He awaited objection, but none
came. Then, with a piquing of his
masculine vanity, he demanded:
"Hain't We a-keerin', Sally, whether
| goes, or not?"
The girl grew rigid. Her fingers on
the crumbling plank of the stiles top
frightened and gripped hard. Her face
did not betray her, nor her voice,
though she had to gulp down a rising
lump in her throat before she could
answer calmly.
81 think We had ought to go, Sam
son."
The boy was ~astonished. He had
avoided the subject for fear of her OPP
positien-and tears.
Then, slowly, she went on:
There hain't nothin' In these here
hills fer ye. Samson. Down thar, yen
see lots of things thet's new-an' civil
lied an beautiful! Yell see lots of
gals tibet kin read an write, gals
dressed up in all kinds of fancy fix
ms" Her glib words ran out and
ended in a sort of inward gasp.
Compliment came hardly and awk-
wardly to Samson's lips. He reached
for the girls hand, and whispered:
II reckon l won't see no gals thet's
as purity as you be, Sally. reckon ye
knows, whether l goes or stays, we're
a-goin' ter git married"
She drew her hand away, and
laughed, a little bitterly. In the last
day, she had ceased to be a child, and
become a woman with all the soul-ach-
ing possibilities of a woman's intui-
tions.
Samson" she said, 81 hain't askin'
We ter make me no promises. When
we sees them other gals-gals thet kin
read an write-I reckon mebby yell
think diff'rent. ! can't hardly spell
out printin' in the fust reader
Her lovers voice was scornful of the
imagined dangers, as a recruit may be
of the battle terrors-before he has
been under fire. He slipped his arm
about her and drew her over to him.
Honey" he said. I'VE needn't fret
about tibet. Readin' an writin' can't
make no difference fer a woman.
Hits mighty important fer a man, but
you're a gal"
You're a-goin' ter think din'rent at
ter awhile" she insisted. when We
goes. / hain't a-goin' ter be expectin'
ye ter come back But"-the
resolution in her voice for a moment
quavered as she added-'but God
knows I'm a-goin' ter be hopin'i"
"Sally!" The boy rose, and paced
up and down in the road. "Air We
goin' ter be ag'inst me, too? Don't We
see that / wants ter have a chanst?
Can't We trust me? I'm jest a-tryin'
to amount to something. I'm plumb
tired of bein' ornery an no count"
She nodded.
I've done told ye," she said, YEARLY,
"thet l thinks ye ought ter do hit"
Lescott and Samson discussed the
matter frequently. At times the boy
mac ohcfinafo in hfc da~torminaffon IN