Macon beacon. [volume] (Macon, Miss.) 1859-1995, 1922-02-17
I-Continued.
.

One day Polly had found her sick in
bed, and, as she had led the forlorn
billy goat home, so did she bring
Granny Hope, lever realizing that in
the tOttering old figure she was en-
tertaining an angel unawares. All she
knew was that Granny's toothless
smile, her cheerful words Of love and
kindness, made the sun shine bright
er and the meager food more filling.
During the winter, Mrs. Hope had
encouraged the girl to read. AT first
that had been difficult, for the shanty
contained nothing but the tattered
Bible the old woman had brought with
her. Over and over Polly had read
the miseries of Job the patient, the
long lamentations Of Jeremiah, who al
ways put her In mind of Daddy Hop
kins and she also knew by heart the
story of the cruclixion of Jesus, who,
so the Bible said, was the best man
that had ever walked the globe.
SO had those winter days of close
companionship with the woman who
had lived long and suffered much, and
who now was almost ready to on to
larger experiences, brought out in
Polly Hopkins a greater capacity for
loving. The squatters called her
"POllyop, the 1ove-lass," and some
times, Polly of the SUM-" Granny
Hope explained this by saying: "They
all love you, Poll, an it's out Of your
heart they get the feelin' of Joy
when they see ye."
From behind the wood-box near
where the goat stood, Pollyop took up
an ak. Tenderly she bent and placed
a kiss upon the goats horny head.
Then she touched Granny Hope.
The woman lifted her lids and
smiled at the girl.
"What's the matter, loye-lass?" she
murmured.
"Tm goin' out, Granny" replied
Polly. "If Daddy comes, tell i'm I'll
be back In a while"
Into the rain she went, her bare feet
carrying her swiftly over the ragged
rocks, her curls gathered under her
chin like a warm glistening hood.
When later she appeared in front of
the shanty, her Bingham skirt was
filled with rusty pans and old pieces
of tin. She placed them on the door
step, and looking hesitatingly at the
willow tree, went back into the house.
From a peg Polly took a pair of her
fathers trousers and clambered into
them, tucking her skirts out Of sight
and rolling up the trouser legs, for
Daddy Hopkins was much taller than
his daughter. Into one of the big
pockets Polly thrust a handful OF
nails. 1t vas a gr%otesque looking girl
who a few minutes later was fiatten.
ing out the pans and the old bits of
tin upon the stone.
When that was finished, she gath.
cred them up and, az in hand, climbed
into the willow tree and onto the
roof. Daddy Hopkins would be glad
when he came home and found the
shack dry and warm. Then she began
her task Of hammering the pieces OF
tin owe the holes through which the
water dripped. Once In a while she
stopped working, and, fiat on her stom.
ach, sought for smaller cracks.
Just as she had mended the last
hole. she heard the sound Of horses
hOofs and mems voices. With the fear
Of the prosecuted, she crouched close
to the roof, and like some frightened
animal, crawled to the edge of it
Squatters did not speak like that
neither did they ride horseback.
There in the lane, astride two mag.
niicent animals, were two men. One
she recognized instantly. Polly had
every reason to know the tall man
whose dark, handsome face had cast
deep shadows over the Silent City
Marcus Mackenzie had been for years
the Nemesis that hung over the Cayu.
ga lake squatters. Even during his
absence on war work abroad, his long
arm had often reached back to the
Silent City to pick away some hus'
band and close the prison gates be-
hind him.
Pollyop had q passionate desire to
throw the ak at him. She knew there
was not q heart In all the Silent City
that did not beat with dread at the
very mention Of his name.
Then she caught a glimpse Of the
other mans face and forgot her terror
Of Marcus Mackenzie. In Ithaca and
about 1t she mad seen many soldiers
but never anyone like MacKenzie's
companion. He was dressed in an Of
flcer's uniform. and, as his horse
whirlsd him into better view, the