THE VALLEY PATH.

A NOVEL OF TENNESSEE LIFE.

BY WILL ALLEN DROMGOOLE.

CHAPTER VI.

It

Down the road to Pelham a little cloud of dust arose. came nearer; the eyes that had been feasting upon visions came back to earth, to see the familiar yellow mule that had trotted his first patient thither, again stop at the gate. The doctor slipped into his purple gown and went out to meet his visitor, half wondering what manner of prank he would attempt this time. But the man was clothed, even to the afflicted foot, and evidently "in his right mind."

There was something artistic about him, to the very swing of his body swaying gracefully with the movements of the mule. He was dressed in his Sunday best, a coarse, clean shirt and a suit of gray jeans. The inevitable slouch adorned his head; pushed back, it made a kind of shadownimbus for the short, clinging curls. Beneath the hat was a face, behind which was hidden a brain that would work out its own problems and stand or fall by its own blunders.

The doctor saw beneath the careless bravado with which his visitor swung himself down from the mule's back and came up the walk to meet him. The large foot touched the ground with positiveness, as if every step took hold upon the solid earth. His eyes were fixed upon the physician; evidently he was not altogether confident as to his reception; but there was that in his manner which said he meant to make the best of things at all events.

"Mornin', doctor," he said in response to the physician's cordial greeting. "I've come over here, Doctor Borin', to pay you a little visit. I'm Joe Bowen, from Pelham Valley down yonder."

The doctor eyed him carefully; it was equally clear to each that the other could scarcely refrain from bursting into laughter.

"Any more erysipelas down your way, Mr. Bowen?" inquired the doctor.

"Oh! say now, Doctor Borin'," said the mountaineer, "you

mustn't be holdin' a grudge against me 'count of that little joke. I'm outright 'shamed of myself about that. Besides, I was only aimin' to plague you a bit-you an' Lissy Reams. Lissy she ware braggin' about you that peart I was afeard betwixt you you might git a mortgage on the earth, let alone Georgy. An' Lissy she talked so much that I laid a bet with her as you couldn't tell snake bite from yaller ja'ndice. So when the hornet stung me that mornin', while I was hunt'n' the house over for my boot the coon had carried off, why I" He broke into laughter in which the doctor was forced to join. "It was too comical; it was too damned funny for anything,-ter see you nosin' aroun' an' specticlin' over that toe, an' tappin' of it like it might 'a' been a sp'iled aig, an' allowin' you 'gentlemen of the medical persuasion'ware it persuasion? or ware it performance?-Anyhow, you smart Ikes called it 'erysip'las.""

The mimicry was so ludicrously perfect the doctor could not speak for laughing. The visitor, too, was enjoying the recital of his smartness to the utmost; he had enjoyed it before, a score of times and more.

"And blame my hide," he continued, "if that ain't about as nigh the truth as most of yer guesses come. But let that pass. I've come over frien'ly, an' I hope you ain't holdin' no grudge ag'inst me, doctor."

The physician slipped his arm through the arm of his visitor and led him into the house. Grudge? He was at peace with all the world; he had discovered the secret of content; he had awakened to new life, new joy, new hope, "in his old age."

"Grudge!" said he, "grudge, hell! It was a sharp trick you played me, young man. But I shall not refuse to see the fun in it because the joke turned upon me. Come right into my den; there are the pipes on the mantel, and there is a chair for you. The occupant of that old sofa to your left is my chum, Zip. Zip and I are old friends. Fill your pipe; all mountaineers smoke. Most of them drink; if you are ready for a toddy I'll mix one for you."

"I don't drink liquor," said Joe, "but I'll take a turn at the pipe. An' I'm proper proud to make the acquaintance of yer friend here."

He gave the terrier's ear a playful twitch that brought him to his feet and then to the floor, where he stood regarding the visitor in an inquiring way, which sent that worthy off in a peal of laughter.

"Peart pup, to be sure," he said; and as if the flattery had indeed gone home the little terrier curled himself at the feet

of his new admirer and went to sleep. "No, sir," Joe went back to the previous question, "I don't drink liquor: I can't; it makes a fool of me. A man's an idiot to do that as makes a fool of him, an' beknownst to hisse'f too. But," he added with sudden thought, "I ain't got nothin' to say of them that do drink."

"I do not," said the doctor, smiling, while he pressed the brown tobacco into the bowl of his pipe. "I abstain for the same reason that you do; it makes a fool of me; I have no wish to be a greater fool than nature made me."

The mountaineer reached one long calfskin boot to touch the tail of the sleeping terrier:

"Oh, say now! I thought you ware the salt of the earth for smartness. Lissy Reams thinks you air, anyhows." A smile flitted for a moment about the doctor's lips: "Does she?" said he softly. "She is a smart guesser." "Does she? Why, from the way Lissy talks I allowed you an' her would in an' about make a cha'ity hospital of the whole valley bimeby. Why, Lissy says the yarb doctor ain't nowhar; that you have got medicine that'll raise the dead out o' their graves-if the dead could be induced to swallow it."

The doctor gathered himself to resent the sudden turn the compliment had taken, reconsidered, however, drew in his breath and said, "The dickens!"

The mountaineer's eyes twinkled: "But then," he continued, "thar air some who say you air nothin' better nor a blamed fool, as never so much as heard of heavin."

He was looking straight into the doctor's eyes; the smoking pipe rested, the bowl in the palm of the broad brown hand. His face was aglow with the amusement he felt in reciting the opinions of his neighbors: amusement he saw reflected in the face of his listener, who again took breath and gave expression to a low, half humorous, "Hell!"

The mountaineer brought his foot down upon the floor with sudden vehemence:

"Say, doctor," he began, "you have heard o' one place, if you haven't heard o' t'other. The valley 'round here, an' the mount'n too, fur that matter, allows that I be the biggest sinner in the state o' Tennessee, or even Georgy hitse'f. But if you ain't toler❜ble close behin' me then I ain't no Solerman. Why, they say you never heard o' Christ!"

The reply was low, earnest, and fraught with meaning: "Then," said the physician, "they lie."

"Waal, now," the mountaineer leaned upon the arm of his

chair, his face close to the doctor's. The keen eye of the physician detected a fearless interest, an interest that was not assumed, under the careless, half-merry air with which he demanded, "What do you think of Him, anyhow?"

The doctor removed his pipe from between his lips, tapped the bowl of it gently upon his palm-the tobacco had ceased to smoke in the mountaineer's pipe-and set it upon the hearth, propped against the brass andiron, useless now save for ornament.

"I think," said he slowly, locking his white fingers loosely upon his knee,-"I think He is my elder brother--and yours."

"Great God!" the boy literally bounded; he gained his feet as if an electric shock had set him upon them. He stood perfectly still one moment, then gave his slouch a shove backward; shook first one leg, then the other, gave the terrier a kick with his calf-clad foot that sent it yelping from the room; then he began pacing up and down, pulling at the fireless pipe in long deep breaths, never conscious that no wreath of smoke responded to his drawing. Finally he stopped, looking down at the placid face of the man quietly twirling his thumbs, who had let drop that rank heresy as calmly as though he had expressed himself concerning a rise in Elk River.

"You mean to live here," he demanded, "an' preach that gospil? Here under the very nose of Brother Barry an' the Episcopers? An' you expect to come out of it whole-hide, horns, and taller? Great God! You'll find the valley hotter'n hell. You'd as well try to crack Cum❜land mount'n wide op'n, as to try to crack the'r skulls wide enough to let in that doctrine!"

"I shall not try it," said the doctor. "I came here to get away from creeds and churches, not to build or to introduce new ones. I shall ask no man to think as I think. I shall neither question nor disturb any man's right to his own belief, and I shall claim the privilege of thinking for myself as well."

His visitor regarded him a moment in a kind of wonder, not without a touch of admiration. Then he extended his strong, brown hand, palm up. "Put yours thar," he exclaimed. "You have got spunk as well as spare-rib. Blamed if you haven't! Dad burn my hide if I don't jist admire the fellow that is too smart for Brother Barry. But Lord, you don't know him!"

"Yes, I do," laughed the doctor. "He called upon me one day last week, and the week before, and the week before that."

"Did he? Come in a mighty big hurry, I reckin; hitched that freckled-faced nag to yo' best apple tree, I'll be bound. Was in a mighty hurry an' fluster fixin' of the 'Master's bus'ness'; but made out to let you put up his nag an' prevail upon him to stay all night. Oh, I know Brother Barry. He's too durned lazy for man's work, so he tuk to preachin'. An' the way he can preach, while the brethern lay to an' break up his fiel' for him, to keep his family from starvin'. I went over and plowed his gyarden for him las' spring; I done it to pleasure Lissy, more 'n anything else. An' when I was in an' about finished, parson he come out an' treated me with hell fire if I didn't get religion an' jine his church. You know what I done, Doctor Borin'?"

He stopped, lifted one calfskin and deposited it squarely upon the velvet cushion of the easy chair he had in his excitement vacated, and stood thus, leaning forward, his arm resting upon his knee, his face aglow with enjoyment of the discomfiture of the minister. "I reckin I am an awful sinner," he said; "the worst this side o' torment-thout'n it be you. When Brother Barry thanked me with his slap-jaw talk, I just got aboard o' my yaller mule, an' I says to that holy man, says I: 'Nex' time you wants yo' cussed fiel' broke up do you call on yo' fr'en' the devil to fetch out his spade an' shovel-I have heard he's got one-an ax him to break it up for you. An' if,' says I, 'if you ever come givin' o' me any mo' of yo' jaw I'll break yer darned neck,' says I. I ain't heard from mealy-mouth since then. I ain't lookin' for thanks, Doctor Borin"" (he brought his foot to the floor again), "an' I ain't begrudgin' nobody a little measly day's work at the plow. But I deny a man's right to drive a man, even into the kingdom of heaven. I don't believe he'd stay druv after he ware druv; sech ain't man natur'-leastwise it ain't my natur'. Nothin' won't be druv, if it's half sensed. My grandad druv a drove o' horses through this valley oncet, long ago. An' the last critter of 'em got back again whar they ware druv from. Well, after the cussin' I give him, I reckin he'll let me sa'nter on to ol' Satan at my own gait. I did cuss him; I have that to remember. I may die sometime an' go to the devil, but I have got the satisfaction of knowin' I did perform one good deed in the flesh anyhows."

"What did Lissy say to that?"

"Lissy?" He hesitated, cleared his throat, and blushed to the roots of his yellow hair.

"Yes, Lissy; what did she think of your performanceyour one good deed?"