A BORN INVENTOR

Cromwell Argus, Volume XXVII, Issue 1362, 28 May 1895, Page 2

A BORN INVENTOR

By HARRY STILL WELL EDWARDS.

[.Copyright, 1893, by The Century Company. AU rights reserved.] ! CHAPTER I. Nanky Gunner replaced her rapidly cooling iron before the coals in the great fireplace of her log cabin, took up a fresh one, spit upon its smooth surface, and Batisfied that the abrupt "teest" that saluted her ear indicated the right temperature faced her visitor across the ironing board. "No, I don't reck'n as how it's posserbul thet airy anuther sech boy do live on the face of the yarth as our Bill. The parson says as how he es er horned inwentor—whatever thet may be, w'ich mebhe you knows, I don't—an ter let 'im sperriment all he wants ter. Er man named Franklelin, he says, wouldn't er nev'r diskivered Ermeriky 'ceptin thet he war er sperrimenter, an ef Collumbus hadn't er sperrimented folks wouldn't er known to this day what chain lightnin 's made outer. Let 'im sperriment, says he, an let 'im sperriment, says I, an sperriment he do." "I've hearn tell as how Bill's powerful handy 'hotit the house with tools," said Cis'ly Toomer. Dipping her althea mop in the tiny tin box of snuff, and restoring it to her mouth, she returned the box to the pocket of her faded calico gown, that was innocent of hoop, underskirt or bustle, and drooped her shoulders forward comfortably as she lifted her yellow, pinched face. "Sim says as how he made er wooden leg fur Jedge Loomus' mule w'at ther railroad runned over." Nanky Gunner laughed until her 800 pounds of avoirdupois quivered vigorously. "Fact, Cis'ly. Jedgo war erbout ter kill ther critter w'en Bill walks up an lif's his han, so. 'Ef God hed er wanted thet mule killed,' says he, 'he'd er let ther train kill it dead." With thet ther jedge he laughed. 'Mebbe yer kin mek 'im er wooden leg,' says 'e. 'I kin," says Bill, an right thar judge 'lowed he might have ther critter an welcome. Well, sho 'nough, Bill tended thet mule, an while ho war er-tendin uv 'im he war all time inv mtin er leg, ad bimeby he got ther critter propped up an ther thingermajig stropped on ter 'im. Well, I never seed sech er sight en all my born days. Eft had n' be'n fur sorryin fur ther critter, I'd er busted wide open. Ther inwention had er rest fur thet critter's stump, an er crutch thet caught it somers tinner ther shoulder, an ther strops run all over hit." "Nanky Gunner, I mus' see thet mule 'fo' I git back ter Putuum" "Lor' bless ye, chile, hit's done dead too long ter talk erbout." Nanky set her iron with a clang upon its ring and began to sprinkle aftother cotton shirt. "Ye see, Franklelin —thet's w'at Bill called 'im —Franklelin war used ter wade ther crile down yonder ter there parstyer, an once ther crik riz powerful, an Franklelin he tried ter swim across like he used ter 'fo' ther railroad runned over 'im, an thet's why he's dead —'cause somehow he couldn't work thet ar peg leg edzactly right, an they do say as how 'e rolled over an over tell bimeby he war drowned an lef er lyin on 'is back 'ith nuthin er showin but thet ar peg leg er pintin tip at ther sky. Our Bill war mighty sorrowful, but 'e alius 'lowed ef 'e hed er shod thet wooden foot hit would er be'n diffunt." One of those silences common to country conversations followed the description of poor Franklin's death, and then Nanky Gunner's thoughts rose to the surface. "I wouldn't begin ter name ther things our Bill have inwented. Ther yard au house is mighty nigh full uv 'em. Some uv 'em won't work, to be sho, but Bill alius knows w'at ails 'em an sets 'em by ter fix up w'en 'e gits time. He's er in-

"Nanlty Gunner, I mus' see thct mule." wentin er spring bucket now thet'll slide clown hill an fetch er full an back thei same time" "Es 'e inwentin hit right now!" Cis'ly Toomer's voice was lifted in an impressive whisper. "Right now." "Lor', how I 'u'd like ter see 'iin er doin hit." 1 Nanky Gunner replaced her iron upon the hearth and waddled out from behind her board. She touched her guest upon the shoulder. ' 'Sh-h-h-h!" she whispered, and motioned her to follow. They passed out across the doorless hall into the other room, the boards groaning under Nanky's tiptoe gait, until they reached th« wall by the fireplace. Then; Nanky placed her eye to a crack and peeped through into a tiny shedroom adjoining, then made way for Mrs. Toomer. A barefooted boy sat on a rough workbench, his elbows on his knees, his cheeks in his hands. His face was freckled, his hair tousled and his trousers, colton sliirt and one knit suspender rather dilapidated. Before him was a framework of strings with two little boxes to represent buckets. The framework extended from the workbench down, to tho far corner of the room. The

boy seemed to be a carved statue, so still was he and so fixed his gaze. "Ef ye bed er no much as sneezed," said Nauky Gunner to her companion when they re-entered the first room, "hit 'u'd er be'n gone. Bill war oncst on ther p'nt tiv inwentin er thing tor tin on ther calf thet 'u'd keep 'im f'ona suckin whilst I war erniilkin an at ther same time keep ther flies of? er 010 Brindle, too, w'en en warks Tom an spoilt hit all. Bill war thet disapp'inted he liked ter cried, but 'e tried ter patch, tip Buthin anyhow thet 'u'd work; but, bless yo' soul, 'e tied hit on ther calf an the first hunch 'e made at ole Brindle ther thing tickled her en the ribs an she kicked me an the bucket erway yonder. Seoh a terdo ye never did see. Him, not er-knowin w't en ther worl war ailin uv th' cow, 'u'd trot up to suck, an as soon as ther inwention 'u'd tech 'er in the ribs she'd carry on redickelus, er-runnin an jumpin like ther hornets hed 'er. I like ter laugh myse'f ter death w'en I got my win f'om th' lick she gin me." "Es Tom er inwenter too?" "Tom? Lor.no! Tom an Bill es twins, but ye wouldn't know they war blood kin. Tom runs ter huntin an ther likes, but 'e 'lows Bill's got more sense en er day than ther w'ole Hepzibah settlemunt got en er y'er. Hyah comes pa." The conversation was interrupted by the entrance of a barefooted man, who, walking with the aid of his staff, slowly

Nanky placed her eye to a crack. made his way into the room. He was old and feeble. His bent form was half clad in rough homespun, and he wore no coat. He paid no attention to either woman, but pulled a chair into the hallway and sat down to chew his quid of tobacco. "Pa es sorter wand'rin en 'is min," said Nanky simply, "an 'e can't hyah ther bes' en ther worl, nuther. Bill says | es how some these days he's goin ter in- \ went er thing that er man kin hyah with i ef 'e am' even got er ye'r on 'is head." I Nanky set her iron aside and walked to the window. "Cis'ly Toomer," she said, "did ye ever en all yo horned life hyah th' win blow like thet?" "Oncst," said her visitor, joining her 1 and scanning the heavens anxiously, : "an I hope to God I'll never see sech ani other day. Hit war over en Putnum, j time uv ther cycleone"— She stopped ; short. Beyond the little valley below | them stretched a plain two miles wide, ; dotted here and there with negro cabins. ' j After freedom the slaves, when per- • | mitted, rebuilt their cabins near the par- ' j ticular pieces of laud they cultivated, I and so it was with the great plantation before them. What broke Cis'ly Toomer's sentence was a fearful cloud that swept over the woods in the distance and seemed to write upon the plain with its long flexible finger. As it passed along it gathered up trees, fences, cabins, cattle and dust into one vast mass and strewed them over its track. A sudden darkness fell upon the two awestricken women—a darkness riven by incessant flashes of lightning that darted through the center of the storm from all quarters. There was no thunder, for the roar of the j tempest as it rolled was like Niagara in j its fall, drowning all other sounds. The ! wind about the cabin increased to a hurricane, but the cyclone had passed. ■ When this fact became apparent, with blanched faces they made their way to the hall. Grasping his chair with both his hands, his eyes riveted upon the rav- ' ished plain, his chin still trembling, sat the old man. CHAPTER 11. After some days Bill resumed work I upon his spring bucket idea. He finally : succeeded in getting the model to work i by putting a rock in the down bucket, but for obvious reasons this was not sati isfactory. Then he planned a plank way ; from the window 40 yards down the hill to the spring and a car on wheels. At this stage in the evolution of the idea lie was interrupted by something new, which consigned the self acting, labor saving, traveling buckets to the companionship i of his other unfinished contrivances. i The cyclone had caused intense excitement. The destruction to life and property and the hairbreadth escapes were absorbing topics, and the reports of other cyclones, gathered from newspapers, were eagerly discussed and magnified. People began to think of cyclone retreats as refuges in stormy times. One day Torn offered to bet the seed j cotton in his patch that Bill could fix up 1 something that would puzzle any cyclone in the world, and thus the train was fired in the brain of the family genius. : Something was needed that could be : reached quickly without exposure to the j elements. In the recent storm a negro had taken refuge in a cellar, but the house had fallen in and taken fire, and the negro had lost his life. So the refuge must be apart from the house to insure complete safety. Thus Bill in the solitude of his workshop reasoned. The rough plan of his water railroad caught his eye, and an old dairy near the : bottom of the hill flashed into his recollection. Then the true plan was perfected in his mind. The Gunner dwelling was upon the site of one of the great antebellum ! homes that disappeared when Sherman marched through Georgia, and the spa* ixous dairy dug out of the hillside &a<3

fronting upon the little ravine that ran down to the spring was a monument to the old family which had dwelt there. Bill's idea was a covered passage leading from a window down the hill and by a sharp curve into the dairy. Burning with the fever of the scheme, he communicated his plans to Tom and secured at once his powerful ally. The two hoys picked cotton at 40 cents per hundred for a neighboring planter and secured money enough to buy the necessary lumber, and Bill went to work Upon the structure. The diameter of the shute was determined by measuring Nanky Gunner's chair seat, and a week's hard work completed the structure. It was 3 feet wide and 3 feet high, inside measurement. The upper end rested in the window and the lower entered the old subterranean dairy, the rest of the opening there being closed with stout boards and dirt. For a long time Bill debated upon a traveling railway to run down the passage he had constructed, but the idea involved new difficulties, such as pulleys, wheels and ropes, and consequently a considerable outlay of money—something not obtainable, for the boys had bankrupted their resources in the purchasing of lumber. Besides tke fever of the idea was hot upon them. At this juncture Tom offered a suggestion. It was the nearest approach to an invention he had ever made. "Bill," said he in his hearty way, "folk as es gittin erway f'om er cycleone ain't expected ter move erbout in style like they were er-gwine ter er quiltin. All they wants ter do ester git up an git tell the things blows over. Now hit do seem ter me thet ther way ter fix thet ar thing ester grease them bottom planks thar, an w'en ther time comes ter be er-movin jes' git en an scoot down ter ther bottom. Hit ain't gwine ter be much used, an I reckon we kin stan hit." Bill surveyed him admiringly. "Tom, said he, "er inwenter hisse'f cain'tbeat ye on thet." And so it was. One day when they had the premises clear they removed the top planks and greased the fioorway to the bottom of the hill until a squirrel would have found it difficult to navigate it. Then they restored the planks and waited. But no cyclone came. Nanky Gunner surveyed the structure many a day curiously, but she asked no questions. To a neighbor she said once: "I cain't say thet I see edzactly as how ther thing es gwine ter work, but Bill es er inwenter, an he knows. He says thar ain't no use en gittin skeered uv cycleones an ther like." It is probably not true that the boys prayed for a storm, but every wind raised hopes in their bosoms, and not a cloud passed but brought suggestions. "Bill," said Tom one night as they lay awake, "I reckon hit's all right, but 'pears ter me we hedn't oughter take no chances; we oughter know." Bill was silent, trying to catch the line of Tom's thought. It was beneath the dignity of an inventor to ask suggestions. Tom continued: "Wen we war over ter Macon las' ye'r 'ith ther cotton, ye ricolleck how they used ter ring ther bells an tur i < ut ther thing ter put out fires 'ith w'e i her warn't no fire ter put out? Er fell ■ ole me they war er-prac-tizin ter kno ■ jes' w'at ter do ef er sho 'nough fire •» ter come erlong. Looks like Ave oug practiz fer cycleones. Ye know g dpa es contrairy, an ma es pow'ful hj " Bill was all excitement in an ; ant and sitting up. "Tom," sa 5, "let's try hit ternight." But Tom's j ment was cooler. "Hit won' ternight. Thar ain't no win' an m» never let us practiz on 'er 'lessen she r pow'ful skeered. Wait tell er big w oines." Fortune fa ed the inventors. There came a week heavy rain and finally one night a ific wind. ', iPTER 111. "Nankee-e i-e, Nank Gunner-r-r-rl" The tones w feminine and rang out shrilly in the i orning quiet. Mrs. Gunn • came to the door of the shedroom, la :■ ;he haunt of the born inventor. She I id been washing clothes, and her sleev a were rolled up, exhibiting short, fa •. Ed arms. "Howdy, '■ .s'ly Toomer, howdy. 'Light," she ■„: weredback. Cis'ly Toomer guided hj r. thin plow horse under a tree and slid \ the ground. The breeze was swaying ime garments hanging on the clothesli i, ;hat she had to stoop to avoid as she a broached. Nanky wiped her hand up 3i aer apron and welcomed her. "Come in; ct ne in," she said. "Hearn ye war done go. .e back to Putnum. Leinme wring out il ese hyah shirts, an I'll be done." She roMimed her position at the tub, and from time to time turned hex head as the conversation went on. Cis'ly looked about .ier as she took her seat and got out her snuffbox and mop. "La, Nanky, w'at ye done 'ith Bill's things?" "Bill," said the woman at the tub, shaking her fa sides a little, "ain't er inwentin much these days." "How come?" "Well, Cis'ly Toomer, hit's er long story. Hit all come uv ther cycleone erwhile back an Bill tryin ter inwent suthin ter beat hit." "La sakes, an wouldn't hit work?" "Work?" Nanky Gunner rested hei hands on her tub and looked around quickly. "I reckon ye never seen nuthin work like hit. Hit mighty uigb worked me an pa ter death." "Nanky, hush!" "Fact. Hit's piled up thar behin thei house now, but hit ain't nuthin like it war w'en hit war fixed up an ready fur cycleones." She described the invention as it had existed, and as she became conscious of the rapt attention of her visitor she exerted her full powers. "Now," she continued, "hain't nobody on yarth skeerder 'n me uv win. One night after hit hed b'en er-rainin fur er week an ther win war blowin pow'ful, I war settin up, an pa ho war en bed ertryin ter git ter sleep, w'en I hearn er boomin en ther a'r outside." She laughed at the recollection, and as she wrung the

last drop of moisture from a shirt fuccct her visitor. "Ever hyah one uv 'cm thar injhies w'at burn coal 'stidder wood —boom-m-m?" She imitated the sound as best sue could. "Well, they done got ter runnin 'cm on ther railroad out thar back uv ther house, an ther first one come crlong thet night, an ther boomin started 'bout ther time hit got en ther big cut. I never war skeered as bad since ther Lor made me. I run 'cross ther room an jerked pa up en bed. 'Git up; git up!' I hollered. Jes then Bill an Tom come er-runnia en, too, yellin out, 'Cycleone, cycleone!' loud as they could. I war mighty ready ter drop. 'Save pa; save pal' I hollered. Pa he half knowed w'at war gwine on, an ho hollered 'Help, help!' an war gittin out, w'en ther boys got 'im back uv 'is shoulders an unner 'is legs an run 'cross ther room an shoved 'im foot foremost inter ther inwention. Pa he hollered, 'Heigh! ho! Nank! Tom!' an war gone. I got thar jes' en time ter see 'is white head go roun ther ben, an then I hearn er kerchunk an pa holler, 'Hoo-00-oo!'" Nanky threw the wet garment down in a chair and shook with laughter over tho recollection. "I orter hed mo' sense; but, la, w'en er woman git skeered bad she ain't got no sense 't all. Ther injine then war right back uv ther house, an ev'ythin war jes' trimblin. Bill he yelled out: 'Git en, ma, git en. Hit's er cominl' I didn't wait er minute, but clum up en er cher an got en. Ther boys gimme a shove, an down I went "ith ther candle en my han berhin, an me flat er back. I reckon I mighty nigh fill ther w'ole inwention, fur I war techin ev'ywhar. Skeered? The cycleone warn't nuthin. Time I got ter ther ben I war full uv splinters, fur pa lef some, an w'en 1 slid roun like er gourd over ther milldam an hit en two feet uv water down thar I war screamin ter be hearn a mile. Tom an Bill like ter not come, hit skeered them so, but ther injine war then er mighty nigh shakin ther pans offen ther she'f, and down they come, too, kerchunk en ther water. You see, they hed stopped up ther old dairy 'ith planks an dirt tell it hel water well, an ther rain hed soaked down. Ther place war dark as pitch, an w'at 'ith me er-screamin an pa er-settin over en ther corner hollerin, 'Don't shoot; don't shoot!' hit like ter skeered ther life outer Bill, an erbout thet time it come ter 'im thet he hadn' inwented no way ter git outer ther thing. I war screamin, 'Git me outen hyah an open ther do'!' an 'Oh, Lordy, my back!' till ther boy war mighty nigh crazy." Cis'ly Toomer had been rolling around her chair convulsed with laughter. "Nank, how en ther worl did ye git out?" she gasped. "Tom clum back up ther spout atter mighty hard work an took er ax an busted ther dairy open. Me an him pulled pa out an put 'im en bed. Yer never

"Took er ax an busted ther dairy oven." seed sech er sight en yo' life like pa's back. We pick splinters outer hit tell broad day, an all time Mm er-hollerin, 'Don't shoot; don't shoot!' Pa's back bed er heap er little white scars on hit, an I reckolleck hearin tell as how somebody caught 'im en er watermelon patch w'en he war er boy an filled 'im full uv shot jes as he war crossin ther fence. I reckon ther splinters sorter brought hit all back ter 'im. He's mighty wand'rin en 'ia min nowadays." She took an armful of clothes and went out to the line, where she continued, elevating her voice: "Me an Bill hed it out in the shedroom thar, an w'en I got done 'ith 'm I kicked all ther inwentions ter pieces. 'No more inwentin en this house,' says 1. 'Hit's as much as my life es wuth.' An I put 'im ter work nex' day. See them two boys over yonuer en the cotton by the p'int of woods?" Cis'ly stood up and shaded her eyes in the direction indicated by Nauky's hand. "One uv them esther 'borned inwenter.'" And Nanky laughed lightly. "But hit ain' gwine ter do no good; not er bit. Hit's still er-workin en 'im, an Tom let out yestiddy that Bill done inwented ei thing thet'll pick mo' cotton en er day than 10 niggers. 1 reckon time thei cotton es all en I'll hev ter move them tubs out ther shedroom ergin. Boys got ter hev ther day, yer know, an Bill es ther baby." THE END. How He Collected It. "If you think you've got such a dead sure thing on that claim against me, why don't you sue me for it?" asked the man with the double chin. "I could sue you and collect it easily enough, and you know it," replied th€ man with the bushy eyebrows, "and would have done it long ago but for the reason that it would have brought youi other creditors down on you like a thousand of brick. I don't want to break you." "I—l'll pay it this afternoon, every cent," said the other, rubbing his jaw thoughtfully. "But that won't go with the next man that tries to work it on mo, by George!"— Chicago Tribune. A Clubhouse. "This, I suppose," saifi the stranger in the city, "is one of your clubhouses?" "Well, you might call it one. It is a police station."—Washington Star.