

"THE ENTERPRISE OF THE SUMMERVILLE MERCHANT." "THE ENTERPRISE OF THE SUMMERVILLE MERCHANT." | THE express from Columbia was due. It was almost nine o'clock on Tuesday night, the 31st of August, 1886. It had been a hot day, sultry toward night, and the loungers at the Summerville station were divided between pitying and envying their neighbors on the excursion train. In such weather, home seems either the most intolerable or the most comfortable place in the world. It had not rained for six weeks, and South Carolina panted. There was a larger crowd than usual at the little station to see the Columbia excursionists come in. The enterprise of the Summerville merchant who placarded the pine-trees of this forest village with legends to the effect that his ice-cream would be found "Opp. the depot," was well rewarded that scorching night. The streets thronged—if Summerville streets can ever be said to throng—with warm and thirsty loungers of both sexes and of every color. South Carolinians though they were, they objected to the heat of that day. |
| In the group at the station stood a white boy, about ten years old,—a neatly dressed, well-behaved little fellow, with an expression of crushing and delightful responsibility. He wandered back and forth restlessly and proudly from the track to a tree in the square, where an old horse and wagon were fastened with unnecessary security. The boy tested the halter, and patted the horse continually.
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"IN THE GROUP AT THE STATION STOOD A WHITE BOY"
It was a very important thing to drive two miles in the dark for one's father and bring him home from the nine o'clock express. Add to this situation the excitement of an excursion, and Donny de Mone felt that life lacked nothing more to the position and the dignity of manhood. Besides, Donny was very fond of his father, and had not seen him for two weeks.
"THE BOY TESTED THE HALTER, AND PATTED THE HORSE." "THE BOY TESTED THE HALTER, AND PATTED THE HORSE."
Now, there was one curious thing about this crowd which would have been noticeable to a stranger, but had not as yet attracted the attention of the residents. This was the extraordinary number of animals that seemed to be waiting for this train. One would have thought that half the dogs in the neighborhood had relatives coming from Columbia.
"STRAY GOATS AND MULES GAZED EXPECTANTLY." "STRAY GOATS AND MULES GAZED EXPECTANTLY."
Stray goats and mules gazed expectantly up and down the track. Cats had followed their owners from the houses and betrayed their devotion by subdued squeals from under their masters' regardless heels. A brindle-brown pig wriggled its way among the crowd, grunting with persistent uneasiness; while a couple of wandering cows, unmolested by the strangely restless dogs, passed and repassed the railroad crossing, bellowing monotonously. The horses at the station exhibited curious discomfort; and Donny de Mone's venerable nag "Ben Bow" astonished the community by pulling at his halter.
While the boy stood valiantly holding the bridle, an old Negro came up and pulled his sleeve. He was a shabby old Negro. His lean knees protruded through his trousers,—a mass of patches from under which the original material, like the jackknife in the mental philosophy problem, had wholly disappeared. It was especially noticeable that tufts of white hair found their way through the holes in his coon-skin cap. Across his shoulder he carried a bundle knotted into an old red handkerchief with a polka spot.
"AN OLD NEGRO CAME UP." "AN OLD NEGRO CAME UP."
"Say, boss, cud ye tell me whar a poah niggah cud fine a bit o' kivered hay to sleep on, an' a moufful o' pone in de mauhnin? I'se footed it clean from Charleston. I'se gwine to Branchville whar my dahter, Juno Soo, is a dyin' ob fever. She ain't long foh dis wohl. I'se got money 'nuff foh de breffust."
He looked wistfully at the lad. Donny answered with the heartiness of a child who has been brought up to think of others.
"My father will tell you when he comes in. I expect him every minute. But why don't you go to Kittie's." He mentioned the name of a woman well known in Summerville for strong character and wise benevolence. "She lives up the track there. Anybody will show you. She'll help you; she's the best colored woman in town."
"HE PLODDED SLOWLY UP THE TRACK." "HE PLODDED SLOWLY UP THE TRACK."
The old man turned away without answering. Perhaps he thought this a pleasant device on the boy's part to get rid of him. Perhaps he meant to follow his counsel. Who can say? He plodded slowly up the track and disappeared in the darkness.