The circuit rider : $b A tale of the heroic ageEggleston, Edward
History
The circuit rider : $b A tale of the heroic age
Eggleston, Edward
Christian fiction; Circuit riders -- Fiction; Social problems -- Fiction; West (U.S.) -- History -- 19th century -- Fiction
Had the issue been squarely presented to Morton, he might even then
have chosen Patty, letting the interests of his friends take care of
themselves. But he did not decide it squarely. He began by excusing
himself to himself:--What could he do for Kike? He had no influence
with the judge; he had no money to buy the land, and he had no
influential friends. He might agitate the question and sacrifice his
own hope, and, after all, accomplish nothing for Kike. No doubt all
these considerations of futility had their weight with him;
nevertheless he had an angry consciousness that he was not acting
bravely in the matter. That he, Morton Goodwin, who had often vowed
that he would not truckle to any man, was ready to shut his eyes to
Captain Lumsden's rascality, in the hope of one day getting his
consent to marry his daughter! It was this anger with himself that
made Morton restless, and his restlessness took him down to the Forks
that Sunday evening, and led him to drink two or three times, in
spite of his good resolution not to drink more than once. It was
this restlessness that carried him at last to the cabin of the widow
Lumsden, that evening, to see her son Kike.
[Illustration: MORT, DOLLY, AND KIKE.]
Kike was sixteen; one of those sallow-skinned boys with straight
black hair that one sees so often in southern latitudes. He was
called "Little Kike" only to distinguish him from his father, who had
also borne the name of Hezekiah. Delicate in health and quiet in
manner, he was a boy of profound feeling, and his emotions were not
only profound but persistent. Dressed in buck-skin breeches and
homespun cotton overshirt, he was milking old Molly when Morton came
up. The fixed lines of his half-melancholy face relaxed a little, as
with a smile deeper than it was broad he lifted himself up and said,
"Hello, Mort! come in, old feller!"
But Mort only sat still on Dolly, while Kike came round and stroked
her fine neck, and expressed his regret that she hadn't run at the
Forks and beat Bill McConkey's bay horse. He wished he owned such "a
beast."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account