Atlanta tri-weekly journal. [volume] (Atlanta, Ga.) 1920-19??, 1924-08-30
MY FAVORITE STORIES
By Irving S. Cobb

To myself [ think of this story under the
title, Life Everlasting" I understand it
originated shortly after the close of the
Civil war. [ know that in my part of the
country it has been doing service for as far
back as | can remember. But perhaps there
are some among the readers of this depart
|. ment, especially in the north, who have
never heard it. And also there may be 9TH
ers who would like to hear again it's ia
miiar routine
1t would seem that middle-aged south
erner of fine family came limping home after
four years of service in the army to find
himself practically ruined. Raiders had
burned his house down, his people were
scattered, his slaves had been freed, his
plantation had gone to wrack and weeds.
Out Of the ruin only a few hundred dollars
left. The veteran knew nothing of
business but he did know horses. So he
opened livery stable.
The industry did not prosper greatly
Most of his former neighbors and practical
ly all his former comrades were themselves
too needy to be able to afford even the oc-
casiOna luxury of hired vehicle When
they went anywhere, they went afoot. To
pay his debts and keep the establishment
running, the proprietor sold off his stock bit
by bit until all that remained to him was
one team of horses and a large covered
wagon, used indifferently for transporting
either passengers or freight. The gallant
eX-warrior drove the rig himself; he had no
money with which to hire hand.
This then, was his forlorn position when
one day bid for his professional services
was made by large coal-black person.
There was to be a party for the newly-eman-
11n9tnH in bn
country. group of the local darkies
wished to attend. They were willing to pay
a good price for transportation to and from
the scene of festivities.
The livery stable owner succumbed to the
temptation. 1t would be night time when
the celebrants left town Probably no white
person of his acquaintance would see him
as he drove his patrons on their way. Any
how, he hoped none would.
All went well until after the merrymakers
had been delivered at the rendezvous. They
Hooked indoors to join the jubilating mem
bers of their race who had arrived earlier
The old soldier huddled himself down in his
wagon and prepared for all-night wait
But the time was winter time and the
weather was cold, very cold for that mildish
climate Also it was raining, and the white
man, insuficiently clad and wet to the skin
soon began to suffer. Finally, when he was
halt frozen, he made another tremendous
compromise with his pride. He went inside
to thaw out
The place was packed with happy, perspir-
ing, dancing colored people. The windows
were tightly closed. In one corner of the
room a stove was packed with Iightwood
knots and was roaring like blast furnace
The heat was terrific. From between the
floor boards dust lifted in clouds The air
was almost thick enough to be sliced with
a knife
The lone Caucasian wedged himself into
a vacant space behind the stove. Presently
the hot stove began to draw the moisture
out of his shappy and worn garments; steam
arose from him. At least, he was warm, even
if he wasn't exactly comfortable.
The heat made him drowsy. His head
nodded forward on his breast. touch on
his elbow awakened him to the consciousness
that many eyes were turned upon him and
that alongside him stood the master of
ceremonies, very large, very sweaty fndi-
vidual who formerly had been a field hand
on a plantation adjoining his own.
"Kunnel," said this person, " 'scuse me.
sub, but I has been requested to asst you
will you kin'ly be so good ez to step outside
gin. Some of de ladies present objects to
de smell OF boss"
Copyright, 1924)