Abbeville progress. (Abbeville, Vermilion Parish, La.) 1913-1944, 1916-12-09

ii was like being taken into a child
ish confidence as the quaint speech
continued:
Il set-while Aunty's washin'-on my
little lOng-leg stool.
An watch the little boys an girls
a-skippin' by to school;
/ An l peck on the winder, an boiler
out an say:
Who wants TO fight the Little Man at
dares you all todayT
/ An men the boys climbs on the fence,
/ an little girls peeks through.
An they all says: Cause you're so
big you think we're feared O.
your
An men they yell, an shake their fists
at me, like | shake mine
They're thst in fun, you know. cause
l got 'curv'ture of the spine ? 4"
well" whispered my friend, with
rather odd irreverence, / thought, "Of
course you see through the scheme of
the fellows by this time don't your"
81 see nothing" said l, most earnest
ly, but a poor little wisp Of a child
that makes me love him so dare not
think of his dying soon. as he surely
must! There; listenw And the
plaintive gaiety of the homely poem
ran on:
AT evening, when the ironin's done,
an aunty's fixed the fire.
An filled an lit the lamp. an trimmed
the wick an turned 1t higher,
An fetched the wood all in fer night,
an locked the kitchen door,
An stuffed the ole crack where the
wind blows in up through the
floor
She sets the kettle on the Goals, an
biles an makes the tea,
An fries the liver an the mush, an
cooks a egg fer me;
An sometimes-when l cough so hard
her elderberry wine
Don't go so bad fer little boys with
'curv'ture of the spine :"
Look ~ whispered my friend, touch
ing me with his elbow. Look at the
professor
Look at everybody" said 1. And
the artless little voice went on again
half quaveringly:
But aunty's all so childishlike on my
account. you see,
I'm most afeared she'll be took down
an ats what bothers me =
Cause eff my good ole aunty ever would
git sick an die,
don't know what she'd do In heaven
till l come, by an by
Fer she's so ust to all my ways, an
everything, you know.
An no one there like me, to nurse an
worry over SOL
Cause all the little childrens there's
so straight an strong an fine,
They's nary angel bout the place with
'curv'ture of the spine'w
The old professors face was I'm his
handkerchief; so was my friends in
his; and so was mine in mine, as even
now my pen drops and l reach for it
again.
/ half regret joining the mad party
that had gathered an hour later in the
old law office where these two grace
less characters held almost nightly
revel, the instigatOrs and conniving
hosts of reputed banquet whose
menus range confined itself to her
rings, or blind robins" dried beef, and
cheese, with crackers, gingerbread. and
sometimes pie the whole washed down
with anything but
a. hot hAa
Had sucked the fire Of some forgotten
sun,
And kept 1t through hundred years Of
gloom
Still glowing In heart Of ruby"
But the affair was memorable. The |
old professor was himself lured into ii |
and loudest In his praise of Hedrick's |
realistic art; and i yet recall him at |
the orgies height, excitedly repulsing /
the continued slurs and insinuations of |
the clammy-handed Sweeney. who,
still contending against the old mans
praise of his more fortunate
rival, at last openly declared that He'd
rick was not poet, not a genius. and |
in no way worthy to be classed In the
same breath with himself-''the gifted |
but unfortunate Sweeney. sir-the un-
author, sir y CAD, sir
of the two poems that held you spell
bound tonight p