Courier Democrat. (Langdon, N.D.) 1891-1920, 1919-02-06
"Neverw said Uncle Peabody, "Tm

cry broke from my lips, and l sank
down upon the grass moaning and
sobbing. L lay amidst the ruins of
the simple faith of childhood. 1t was
as if the world and all It's joys had
come to an end.
Aunt Deel spoke in a low, kindly
tone and came and lifted me to my
feet very tenderly.
"Come, Bart, don't feel so about
that old Melon" said she, "it amt
worth it. Come with me. I'm going
to give you a present-ayes 1 BEL!
1 was still crying when she took
me to her trunk, and offered the
grateful assuagement of candy and
a belt, all embroidered with blue and
white beads.
"Now you see, Bart, how low and
mean anybody Is that takes what
don't belong to 'em-ayes! They're
snakes! Everybody hates 'em an
stamps on 'em when they come in
sight-ayes!"
The abomination of the Lord was
III lCl lOVh 0llu uluLllCls AOW II
shook my soul! He who had taken
the watermelon had also taken from
me something I was never to have
again, and a very wonderful thing it
was-faith in the goodness of lei
My eyes had seen evil. The world
had committed it's first offense against
me and my spirit was no longer the
white and beautiful thing it had been.
Still, therein is the beginning of wis
dom and, looking down the long vista
of the years, I thank God for the
great harvest of the lost watermelon.
Better things had come In its place
understanding and what more, often
l have vainly tried to estimate. For
one thing that sudden revelation of
the heart of childhood had lifted my
aunt's out of the cold storage of a
puritanic spirit, and warmed it into
new life and opened it's door for me.
In the afternoon she sent me over
to Wills to borrow a little tea. l
stopped for a few minutes to play
with Henry Wills-a boy not quite
a year older than 1. While playing
there l discovered a piece Of the
rind of my melon in the d%ooryard. On
that piece Of rind 1 saw the cross
which l had made one day with my
thumb-nail. 1t was intended to in
d:cate that the melon was solely and
wholly mine. I felt a flush of anger.
81 hate you," I said as 1 approached
him.
81 hate you," he answered..
you're a snake!" I said
We now stood, face to face and
breast to breast, like a pair of young
rooSters. He gave me a shove and
told me to go home. 1 gave him a
shove and told him [ wouldn't. I
pushed up close to him again and
we glared into each others eyes.
Suddenly he spat in my face. l
| gave him a scratch on the forehead
with my finger-nails. Then we fell
upon each other and rolled on the
ground and hit and scratched with
feline %ferocity.
Mrs. Wills ran out of the house and
parted us. Our blood was hot, and
leaking through the skin of our faces
a little.
"He pitched on me-" Henry ex-
planned.
l couldn't speak.
go right home-this minute-you
brat!" said Mrs. Willis in anger.
"Here's your tea. Don't you ever come
here again."
l took the tea and started down the
road weeping. What a bitter day
that was for me! 1 dreaded to face
my aunt and uncle. Coming through
the grove down by our gate l met
Uncle Peabody. With the keen in
sight of the father of the prodigal son
he had seen me coming "a long way
off" and shouted:
"Well here We BEL was kind O.
worried, Bub."
Then his eye caught the look of de-
lection in my gait and figure. He hur-
ried toward me. He stopped as l
came sobbing to his feet.
why, NAot Xix ldllC AC dohCN
gently, as he took the tea cup from
my hand, and sat down upon his heels.
1 could only fall into his arms and
express myself in the grief of child
hood. He Rugged me close and begged
me to tell him what was the mat
ter.
"That Wills boy stole my melon"
I said, and the words came slow with
sobs.
"Oh, no, he didn't" said Uncle Pea
body.
"Yes he did. 1 saw a piece O the
rim"
"Well by" said Uncle Peabody,
stopping, as usual, at the edge of the
precipice.
"He's a snake" l added.
And you fit and he scratched you
up that way?'
II scratched him, too"
Don't you say a word about it to
Aunt Deel. Don't ever speak o. that
miserable melon ag'in to anybody.
You scoot around to the barn, an