The Green Forest tribune., 1915-01-15

1 in erbout goin away fer a spell, an seein' the world"
 The old man laid down his pipe. He cast a reproachful glance at the painter, which said clearly, though without words:
 q have opened my home to you and offered you what had, yet in my old age you take away my mainstay."
 q lowed you was a-studyin' erbout thet, Samson" he said, at last. "lve done ther best fer ye I knowed. l kinder lowed thet from now on ye'd do the same fer me. I'm gittin' along ln years right smart.
 Uncle Spicer," interrupted the boy, q reckon ye knows thet any time ye needed me I'd come back"
 The old mans face hardened.
 'Ef ye goes," he said, almost sharp ly, q won't never send fer ye. Any | time ye ever wants ter come back, ye knows ther way. Thar'll be room an victuals fer ye hyar."
 q reckon I mout be a heap more useful eff I knowed more."
 i've heerd fellers say that afore Hit hain't never turned out thet way with them what has left the mount | ings. Mebby they gets more useful, but they don't git useful ter us. Either they don't come back at all, or mebby | they comes back full of newfangled no- tions-an' ashamed of their kinfolks. Thet's the way, I've noticed, hit gen. | ally turns out"
 Samson scorned to deny that such might be the case with him, and was silent. After time, the old man went on again in a weary voice, as he bent down to loosen his brogans and kick them noisily off on to the floor:
 "The Souths hev done looked to ye a good deal, Samson. They lowed they could depend on ye Ye hain't quite twenty-one yet, an I reckon I could refuse ter let ye sell yer prop'ty. But thar hain't no use tryin' ter hold a feller when he wants ter quit. Ye don't low ter go right away, do ye?"
 "I hain't plumb made up my mind ter go at all" said the boy, shame facedly. But, eff I does go, I hain't a-goin' yit. I hain't spoke ter nobody but you about hit yit." Lescott felt reluctant to meet his hosts eyes at breakfast the next morn ing, dreading their reproach, but, if Spicer South harbored resentment, he meant to conceal it, after the stoic's code. There was no hint of constraint in his cordiality. Lescott felt however, that in Samson's mind was working the leaven of that unspoken accusa- tion of disloyalty. He resolved to make final play, and seek to enlist Sally in his cause. If Sally's hero-wor- ship could be made to take the form of ambition for Samson, she might be brought to relinquish him for a time, and urge his going that he might re- turn strengthened. He went down to the creek at the hour when he knew Sally would be making her way thither with her milk pail, and intercepted her coming.
 AS she approached, she was singing, and the man watched her from the dis tance He was landscape painter and not master of genre or portrait Yet, he wished that he might, before going, paint Sally.
 Miss Sally" he began, i've discov- cred something about Samson"
 Her blue eyes flashed ominously.
 "Ye can't tell me nothin' bout Sam son." she declared, "withouten hits somethin' nice."
 Its something very nice," the man reassured her.
 Then, ye needn't tell me, because I already knows hit," came her prompt and confident announcement
 Lescott shook his head, dubiously.
 Samson is genius" he said.
 What's thet?"
 "He has great gifts-great abilities to become figure in the world" She nodded her head, in prompt and full corroboration.
 T reckon Samsonll be the biggest man in the mountings some day"
 He ought to be more than that"
 Suspicion at once cast a cloud across the violet serenity of her eyes.
 What does ye mean?" she de. manded.
 T mean"-the painter paused a mo- ment, and then said bIuntly-"I moan