Newark leader. ([Newark, Ohio]) 1917-1946, 1923-11-30

q D0tfSr auOl0uco. ne MAO De81 wei
heraIdad and expectation was al keen
est pitch And no speaker eve. better
improved his opportunity The speech
ended while the audience was still
hungry to hear more--a trick that
many q less brilliant speaker might
well copy. He turned back to the
table and raised his hand. The two
long rows of youngsters stood In awk-
wardly decorous expectancy. The low
tones of the solemn grace fell softly
, impressive; the minister resumed his
seat; a deep breath swept down the
two rows Of hungry urchins; and-the
festival was on.
A good length of the candles In the
windows had burned away when Jack,
sauntering aimlessly in the crowd.
found himself, for the first time that
evening, face to face with Texie, where
she leaned over Mrs Mason's chair.
The girl looked up and smiled. He
was raking over his scant stock OF
words for one that would fit the occa-
sion-words being about the hardest
things he had to reckon with-when
the young preacher, suave and affable,
by odds the most popular man In the
house, joined the group.
Through the mind of Jack Warhope
flashed comparison between the
preacher and himself. The compari-
son showed dead against him. For the
first time in his life he was half
ashamed Of his ungainly clothes. of
the great limbs, the massive chest and
shoulders - the "six-foot-three" OF
bone and Drawn upon which the Flat
woods had exhausted its utmost imag-
ination, its ultimate romance, when 1t
bestowed the riue: Big Jack.
OF truth, the comparison between
the two men couiu not well have been
more striking. The young preacher
was a very handsome man. The beard
and spectacies. the mass Of hair fal-
ing about his ears. seemed TO invest
him with an air OF exquisite mystery
an air that has such power to compel
the attention of women.
The young wovdsman, on the other
hand, with his dncouth and NN-fitting
clothes, though far from plain. owed
whatever attraction. he possessed to
his magnificent physiQrA. bold regu-
larity sof features AID an honest, open
frankness-a mans nan
With a jerky, elaborate bow to
Jack. the young preacher turned to
Texie.
IT was just hunting for you. Miss
Texie. They want you at the punch
bowl"
The girl must have known the
woodsman was about to spe~k 70 her.
His face was as easy to road an the
signs Of spring. She glanced ~ him;
dropped her eyes; laughsd-a tride
uneasily he thought, knowing her so
well-and walked away beside the
minister.
The woodsman stood looking after
them. a queer sense Of emptir ass In
his breast-a man nurxed By nature.
untaught to juggle with the hearts
emotions
The voice Of the gray-hatred gentle
woman In the rocking chair recalled
his straying thoughts
Aren't they a nne-looking coupler
she was saying.
"Uh-huh."
AS look back over the years since
We came to Buckeye, I remember that
you and she have always been play.
mates My dear husband 30 often
used to speak Of the beautiful COM
panionship between you Long associ-
alton with one so sweet anu innocent
must have had q most enuObiing tndu-
ence upon you"
ut didn't hurt me none"
Dear me! but you are laconic this
evening, my lad. Do you aiways speak
with such Spartan brevityY
She might as well have said 1t In
Latin. Jack was frowning hard in an
effort to make out her meanil.s when
Zeke Pollok, oficiously CMAlpresent,
stopped ut the old ladys chaiI.
Tho woodsman was sa.ed. He
walked away In the crowd. willie Aunt
Liza. a few seats away, never back
ward about airing her views. leaned
over toward the posr1nasters vile And,
In hoarse half-whispers, laid DOM her
vastly positive opinion on thu very sub
ject be had just escaped discussing.
"Ain't 1t burnin' shame the way
TeHe let's the new parson carry on
with 'er, an leavin' Big Jack out n
the cold IAN him wo'th any two O.
the parson, the best breath . ever
drawed. She'll rue It. Mark my
words, Hammer Pollok, she'll rue It."
Jaw, shucks. Aunt Liza. you're jist
Jealous f'r Big Jack, him bein' about
yu O. much, an Uncle Nick a-teachin'
i'm all about the woods an box1n' an
sich."
"Nickl Nick i"-it would be utterly
impossible to commit to paper the ul-
innate contempt In the stifed tones
'.rr the lam sakes What d y'u s'pose
care who the OIL man teaches Is
fool truck an boxin' tricks to? She'll
rue the day she draps fine lad like