The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1915-02-03

"This hy&r time I lets ye go back
said Samson, "fer the reason thet I'm
tryin' like all hi ter keep this truce.
But ye must stay on yore side or
else ride the roads open. How is
Purvy terday?"
He's mighty porely," replied the
other, In sullen voice.
'"All right. Thet's another reason
why hit hain't healthy fer ye over
hyar."
The spy turned and made his way
over the mountain.
"D-n him!" muttered Samson,
his face twitching, as the other was
lost In the underground. Some day
I'm a-goin' ter git him" i
Tamarack Spicer did not at once
reappear, and when one Of the Souths
met another In the road the customary
dialogue would be: "Heared anything
of Tamarack?" i. +. +. mo, hev your"
mo, nary word"
AS Lescott wandered through the
hills, his unhurt right hand began cry.
ing out for action and brush 10
nurse. AS he watched, day after day,
the unveiling Of the monumental hills
and the transitions from hazy, wrath
like whispers of hues to strong, faring
riot of color, this fret Of restlessness
became actual pain. He was wasting
wonderful opportunity and the crea-
tive instinct In him was clamor1ng.
One morning, when he came out JUST
after sunrise to the tin wash basin
at the we'll, the desire to paint was on
him with compelling force. The hills
ended near their bases like things bit
ten of. Beyond lay limitless stream
ers Of mist, but, while he stood at gaze.
the flmy veil began to lift and fioat
higher. Trees and mountains grew
taller. The sun, which showed first
as ghost-like disk Of polished alumt.
mum, struggled through orange and
vermilion into a sphere of living
fame. Lescott heard, a voice at MS
side. "ssS T.s ! 2 s 5s 4 s
.When does ye low ter commenc',
paintin'?" ~ & !. q S. 8. s: IS
It was Samson. For answer the
artist, with his unhurt hand, tmpar
tiently tapped his bandaged wrist. sjSs
'"rrYe still got yore right hand, hatn't
yer" demanded the boy. The other
laughed. It was typical question. SO
long as one had the trigger finger left
one should not, admit disqualia alton.
.sYou see, Samson" he explained.
this isn't precisely like handling g.
gun. i One must hold the palette; mig
the colors; wipe the brushes and do;
half dozen equally necessary Things.
It requires at least two perfectly good
hands. Many people: don't find two
enough" 81. 4 ~ !. & y
""But hit only takes one ter do the.
paintin', don't hitfa S54s. ~
Yes" s,s Be = ,s.Sgi ~ 4 1S
S"Well'-the boy spoke difidently
but with enthusiasm- -"be between the
two OF us we've got three hands, !
reckon ye kin larn me how, ter do.
them other things fer ye." iss3 g.: B !;
Lescott's surprise showed In his
face and the lad swept eagerly on, +.
"Mebby hit hain't none Of my bust.
ness, but, all day yestiddy am the
day befo', / was studyin' bout this
here thing, an I hustled up an got
thet corn weeded an now I'm through:
Ef. / kin help ye out ! thought meb.
by" He paused and looked appeal.
ingly at the artist. /,
Lescott whistled and then his face
lighted into contentment. <,
To-day, Samson" he announced.
''Lescott, South and Company get
busy" Il l.s u q 81 4 n i / x,
It was the first time he had seen
Samson smile, and, although the ex-
preston was one Of sheer delight, In
herent somberness loaned It a touch
Of the wistful. ;' 5 b ;4.l9i sst & ,5]s
When, an hour later, the two set
out, the mountain boy carried the par
aphernalia and the old man standing
at the door watched them of with q
half-quizzicai, half.disapprovtng glance.
/ AS the boy, with remarkable apti-
tude, learned how to adjust the easel
and arrange the paraphernalia, Lescott
sat drinking III through thirsty eyes.
the stretch OF landscape he had deter
mined to paint. 5sis a
Then, while he painted, the boy held
the palette, his eyes riveted on the
canvas, which was growing from a
blank to mirror Of vistas-and the
boys pupils became deeply hungry.
The day of painting was followed
by others like 1t. The disabling OF
Lescott's left hand made the constant
companionship of the boy a matter
that needed no explanation or apology,
though not matter Of approval to his
uncle.
Another week had passed without
the temperance Of Tamarack Spicer.
One afternoon Lescott and Samson
were alone on a cliff-protected shelf,
and the painter had just blocked in
with umber and neutral tint the crude
sketch of his next picture. {,
tTo BE coNTINUED)
Tribute Money. Z.
Tonnv 1nnp apo said that the black