Wauwatosa news. [volume] (Wauwatosa, Wis.) 1900-1948, 1915-02-05

Il
The old man laid down his pipe. He
cast reproachful glance at the
painter, which said clearly, though
/, without words:
Il have opened my home to you and
offered you what had. yet in my old
age you take away my mainstay."
/ 81 flowed you was a-studyin' erbout
| tibet, Samson" he said. at last. I've
done Their best fer We knowed.
kinder lowed thet from now ON yed do
the same fer me. I'm gittin along in
| years right smart. :"
uncle Spicer," interrupted the boy,
Il reckon We knows tibet any time ye
needed me I'd come back"
The old mans face hardened.
"Ef ye goes" he said, almost sharp
ly. II won't never send fer We. Any
time We ever wants ter come back, We
knows Their way. Thar'll be room an
victuals fer We hyar."
Il reckon mout be heap more
useful eff knowed more"
I've heerd fellers say that afore.
Hit hain't never turned out tibet 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 gem
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 door:
''The Souths hev done looked to We
good deal, Samson. They lowed they
could depend on We. Ye hain't quite
twenty-one yet, an / reckon could
refuse ter let We sell yer prop'ty. But
thar hain't no use tryin' ter hold a
Teller when he wants ter quit. Ye
don't low ter go right away, do ye?"
Il hain't plumb made up my mind
ter go at ALL" said the boy, shame
facedly. But, eff / does go, hain't
a-goin' yit. hain't spoke ter nobody
out you ABOUT hit ylt
Lescott felt reluctant to meet his
hosts eyes at breakfast the next morn
ing, dreading their reproach, but, IL
Spicer South harbored resentment, he
meant to conceal it, after the stoic's
code. There was no hint of constraint
in his cordially. Lescott felt, however,
that in Samson's mind was working
the leaven Of that unspoken accusa-
ton 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 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
lance. He was a 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
treasured her.
Then, We needn't tell me, because
already knows hik," came her prompt
and confident announcement.
Lescott shook his head, obviously.
Samson is genius he said.
What's theft"
"He has great gifts-great abilities
to become figure in the world"
She nodded her head, in prompt and
full confederation.
"I reckon Samson'll be the biggest
man in the mountings some day."
HE ought to be more than that"
Suspicion at once cast cloud across
the violet serenity of her eyes.
what does ye mean?" she de-
manded.
II mean"-the painter paused a mo-
ment, and then said bluntly-"T mean