Argosy All-Story Weekly, June 27, 1925 — page 8: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

S02 the com row ended in a patch of locust railroad, a twin path of wheel polished Sprouts. steel, could be made out in a half dozen Zed White straightened his back, wiped places as the tracks curved around the his forehead and exclaimed bitterly: mountain sides, spanned the creek on spin- “"Tain’t right, I say! ’Tain’t right fer- dling trestles, or where the mica in the we'uns to be workin’ and strivin’, agommin’ broken rock of the cuts glinted in the sun- around, layin’ by this yere corn while pap’s shine. a froggin’ about down at the depot.” Thar,” he said, “ thar! His two sisters stood with: uplifted hoes, somewhares.” — amazed at the effrontery of any one who = He turned his gaze along the crooked dared to criticize their father. corn row and over the rock strewn, ragged “ Here is you’uns,” went on the boy, for field. — | he was scarce turned eighteen, big, raw- “ This yere don't go nowhare,” he com- boned, the promise of a powerful man. plained. “ Breakin’ and plantin’, hoein’ “Here is you'uns, and me and maw, bad and layin’ by, toppin’ and fodderin’, gather- off. We ain’t got no clothes much to in’ and huskin’, Shellin’ and grindin’— speak of. We cain’t go to the protracted that’s all fer makin’ corn meal. And what meetin’s nor to the preachin's, nor the fer? We’uns git a smidgeon of hit, jest frolics, caise we don’t look like nothin’ and bare enough to.make hoe cakes and corn folks snigger at us. J cain’t go lo the bread, while pap, he takes all the rest down school fer no more larnin’ caise pap, be to Pink Case’s still. Cuss Pegleg Case and, Mows as how I must holp him work his his corn liquor that we’'uns a holpin’ to craps, and that he is a loaferin’ about and make! I’m a goin’ down to the railroad none of us cain’t get what we wants, caise 0’ whare folks do something better than work him. ’Tain’t right, I says.” and live about like blind steers so some “But, Zeb, we all cain't holp hit. Pap’s one else can get corned up, lit higher than allus been thataway. We’uns must jest the burnin’ bush.” gom along and sorter make out somehow.” Picking up his heavy, hand-forged hoe, “Cain’t holp hit, cain’t we? I'll make a Zeb twirled it around his head and pitched dart that’ull show you’uns! I’m goin’ to it clattering far down hill. He watched it from, that’s what I’m a p'intin’ to joust at. tumble into the sassafras scrub that fringed I’m a goin’ to from this yere place. I’m the field, then turned and strode up to- goin’ to the public works, to the railroad!” ward the cabin with its stick and mud Then to make more dramatic effects of chimney on one end, its tumbling lean-to his words, he pointed his finger down to- on the other. ward the litle station of Ecclefechan whose One shabby room with the big, black ted shining roof could just be perceived, fireplace, two beds on one side, and a a blur though a gap in the green foliage “pallet,” a couch made of a few worn ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY, ‘That goes of the trees. blankets in the corner, a half dozen fire “Thar’s whar I'll be goin’. Listen!” blackened pots setting on the stone hearth he announced. “ Listen!” before the smoldering fire. Not a picture A faint ‘‘ Whooo-whooo” floated up to on the bare log walls. Not a rug to cover them. the rough floor. This was Zeb’s home. He strode through the door or rather the opening, for door there was none. It had been blown off the spring before and Bill White had never put it back. Zeb went over to the dark corner where he stripped “Thar’s Sixteen a comin’ now,” and a shining glitter came into Zeb’s eyes. “ I'm a goin’ to pull Sixteen myself some day! We'uns won’t be pore no more. And youall ull heve all the fine clothes youall hankers for, and maw, too, and pap.” He stopped. “He's jest a no account, triflin’ loaferer and too sorry for we’uns to own. I ain’t gonna heve no more dealin’s with him.” Zeb gazed longing down to where the off his torn shirt and faded overalls and put on his “good clothes.” His mother watched, fearful, apprehensive, at this stir. She had known for some time that Zeb was dissatisfied. COnniEaoo () SS Co