Fitzgerald leader enterprise and press. (Fitzgerald, Ben Hill County, Ga.) 1921-1964, 1922-07-20
"ShOuld say l wouldn't %

teeth shining out.
"Why, wouldn't hurt one of the
hairs on your head girl. not for two
worlds" He paused. dangling the
waist cords. Cant fellow, Just to
prove to you how much he thinks Of
you, have one little"
"You can not !" She tried to pass
him with flashing movement, but at
the sight Of her scuttling from him In
low deto1r, he reached out. grasping
the edge Of her sleeve.
annie ="
mo, you don't!" And with a jerk
and tear was free Of him, darting
/ the rooms width to the mirror and
low toward the door,
Taken so suddenly that his fingers
relaxed like wax, Mr.. Foddie stood for
blinded instant, then cast the length
OF his body across the table top,
reaching for the flying hem Of her
sleeve as it slipped him.
"Annie--come back-girl." Reached
farther, dragging the table cover, and
with 1t the Lamp until 1t tipped into a
burst Of fame.
A geyser of fire shot up Immediate
ly, blackening the white ceiling, itS
reflection leaping at Annie Kineady
through the up-tilted mirror Ike a
long, swift tongue. For q moment she
paused, gripped In fear, then h2rief
back and at 1t.
Stand back of that crib! Stand
back! Stand-back The crtb!" And
with her body's weight flung against
1t, reached out, dragging 1t across the
rooms width, the tent swinging and
tho child whimpering.
Nov Now, easy you, Mr.. Foddie.
You're all right. Easy! Quit waving.
Easy! For. Gods sake quit waving !
It's out! Easy"
With her hands and an afghan
dragged off the couch she beat at him.
dealing out series Of quick blows
across his shoulders, and with the
loose ends spanking out the last
sparks on his singed collar and down
the flannel front of his robe.
"Y' amt touched, Mr.. Foddie. Was
just the flannel singed. Nothing's
burnt but the tablecloth See? Was
just the flannel tared up. Y amt
touched. Sit down. Don't faint
Wait"
When Annie kineady returned with
the pitcher, her own hands trembling
so that the water Topped out and over
Mr.. Foddie was sitting upright in his
chair, quite as she had showed him.
but with a palIor that caused her TO
cry out:
'Beasley! Mr.. Foddie! Beasley I
Foddie Oh, my Cod BeasIey!"
When Mrs. Beasley, her yellow mus
lin nightgOwn clutched at her thin
throat, rushed into the scorched air
Of that room, dim line Of tallow-
faced dodgers came peering after.
"Beasley, for Gods sake, Beasleyl
The lamp! Nobody burnt, but look at
him, Beasley, how-hOw he sits there
crumpled! Not burnt, Beasley, but
but how he sits there Oh, my God
Beasley, look at himw
Al INV SiOOLh VI the SlISle jet, SnuQ-
deringly, but as one who has learned
that the lodger's first autopsy falls too
often to landladies, Mrs. Beasley
leaned forward, her ear to the singed
flannel robe.
GOD Almighty, it was his heart
give out! Snuggs, you run for the
doctor. Poor, poor man, and l knew
his wife before him. On Mondays he
paid like clOck-wOrk God Almighty.
what'l become of the child, not stick
or a stone of a relation? God AL
mighty, Annie, it was his heart, Door
man, it"
"Oh, my Cod" cried Annie Kineady.
submerged by her rising hysteria
and sinking her face to her hands,
Robbie, little Robbie!"
In the spring, stirred by the rising
juices of life, Spartan energies shame
facedly from her long and sullen win
ter. Roads with the ruts frozen In
them soften and smooth.
BY May day the box-shaped houses
raise their shades for spring cleaning
and women wrap the upstairs base
burner in newspapers. Along the rail-
road tracks the milkweed takes heart.
The GLACIERS wife, with her hair
cropped short, puts out her famous
crocus bed, a double row Of them
leading along the walk and around to
the kitchen door.
On one such day, when the sun Law
too warm on the back, and the win
dows Of Spartan, newly flung, sucked
that warmth gratefully into their
damp interiors, Annie Kineady, with
her telescope sagging down the one
side of her and the sleeping bundle of
big child clutched around the ankles
by her free hand and the small head
dangling off her left shoulder, stepped
clumsily enough off the Accommoda-
ton and stood there a moment after
1t had swooped off, leaving her.
From his window the telegrapher
raised up and regarded her under his
eyeshade.
"Hel-lc, ANNIE" he said, with great
rising infection.
Hello, joe"
"Back?"
Yes" she said, taking fresh grip
on the telescope and lurching the child
higher on her shoulder. Then she
struck out up the railroad track, down
a footpath running parallel with the
sheep chutes, past two blocks of the
box-shaped houses and diagonally
across the street of a third.
Her gate creaked, but the garden