The Pleasantville press. (Pleasantville, N.J.) 1912-1929, 1916-01-08

der" continued the old man, never
needing, vivid a s'ord and say: L mex
you a knight, Sub Robert. Rise up,
pure and fearless and widout re-
proach.' Dat what Miss Lucy say.
OATS been a long time ago, but me
nor you amt forgot it. And den OARS
another time we amt forgot-de time
when Miss Lucy lay on her las bed.
She sent for Uncle Bushrod, and she
say: Uncle Bushrod, when | die /
want you to take good care of Mr.
Robert. Seem like'-so Miss Lucy say
he listen to you mo- dan to anybody
else. He apt to be mighty fractions
sometimes, and maybe he cuss you
when you try to 'suade him, but he
need somebody what understand him
to be round wild him. He am like IL
little child sometimes'-so Miss Lucy
say, wild her eyes shinin' in her pc,
thin face-'but he always been'-dem
was her ~words-'my knight, pure and
fearless and widout %reproach.'"
Mr.. Robert began to mask, as was
his habit, a tendency to softhearted-
ness with a spurious anger.
"You-you old windbag!' he growled
through a cloud of swiriing cigar
smoke. II believe you are crazy. 1
told you to go home, Bushrod. Miss
Lucy said that, did she? Well, we
haven't kept the escutcheon very clear.
Two years ago last week, wasn't it,
Bushrod, when she died? Confound
1t! Are you going to stand there all
night Cabling like a coffee colored
gander?'
The train whistled again. Now il
was at the water tank, a mile away.
"Marse Robert" said Uncle Bush.
rod, laying his hand on the satchel
hat the banker held; "for Gawd's
sake don take dis wild you. l knows
what's in it. 1 knows where you got
it in de bank. Don kyar' it wild you.
Dey's big trouble in dat valise for Miss
Lucy and Miss Lucy's child's chillun
Hits bound to destroy de name OF
Weymouth and bow down dem dat
own it wild shame and t%riberlation.
-isAPS 1NCC1AAs SoA q Nj hlS UT lIlZ
ger eff you will, but don't take away
dis err yalise. If l ever crosses over
de Jordan what l gwine to say to Miss
Lucy when she Ak me, Uncle Bushrod,
wharfo' didn' you take good care Of
Mr.. Roberto"
Robert Weymouth threw away his
cigar and shook free one arm with
that peculiar gesture that always pre-
coded his outbursts of Feasibility. Tn
Gle Bushrod bowed his head to the ex-
pected storm, but he did not finch. If
the house of Weymouth was to fall he
would fall with it. The banker spoke,
and Uncle Bushrod blinked with sur
prise. The storm was there, but it was
suppressed to the quietness of a sum-
mer breeze.
"Bushrod," said Mr.. Robert in a low.
er voice than he usually employed
you have overstepped all bounds.
You have presumed upon the l~eniency
with which you have been treated to
NEEDLE unpardonably. So you know
what is in this satchel? Your long
and faithful service is some excuse,
but-go home, Bushrod-not another
word!'
But Bushrod grasped the satchel
with a firmer hand. The headlight of
the train was now tightening the shad-
ows about the station. The roa was
increasing, and folks were stirring
about at the track side.
"Marse Robert, gimme dis 'er' valise.
1 got a right, sub, to talk to you dis
err way. l shaved for you and tended
to you from a child up. 1 went though
de war yo' body servant tell We whip
ped de Yankees and sent 'em back to
de moth. I was at yo' weddin', and
I was n fur away when yo' Miss Lefty
was bawn. And Miss Letty's chillun,