Democratic Sentinel, Volume 13, Number 1, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 25 January 1889 — ZEKE'S HAD HIDS. [ARTICLE]

ZEKE'S HAD HIDS.

ti»w a Boy Trird to Const tho Ratta **■ the M»ne of a Frighten d Maraa, [From the Philadelphia Tifitea.J Zeke was thought to be the dunce of the family. He wasn't dull but 'zecauie of his quiet ways und his love ol sleep he got to l ie known as the most tk/jkvar.L <,i .h • bright Barnwell boys Zesa was so lazy that he couldn’t count, though twelve year* of age. When, along a; out noon, his father would say: “ Run, Zeke, and tell me wnat time it is.” Zeke would look at the clock and remark : “ Little hand’s a stickin’ straight up 1” One day Jerry, the black marr, made fun jf Zb'ke, saying,' “G’lang wid ye, ye io’an know yer foot from a hole in de ground; g’way from heah en larn to or ant up yer A B O’t. ” What Jerry said made the lad feel ashamed. That right be covered his head with a quilt, and said to himself that he wished a bugaboo would catch him by the toesand take him to Vie bad p’wee. As he was feeding the horses next morning he asked liis friend Joe, the y ibleman, how he could learn to count. . uughed and winked at a big horse rTa 1 Bob. “Why, you pester you, way don’t you get up onto Bob’s back and count them air hairs in hia mane?” Ik.u made Zeke’s blood feel hot in his Lc . “/Il right,” he said, and bounding from t’ e hay-mow he lighted upon Rob’s back Bob was taken by surprise. H‘ wa rn't in the habit of having boys on his back at breakfast, so he started on i wild run. If Zeke couldn’t count he could ride a horse as a swallow rides the air. Away went Bob out the lane and up the country road. Zeke grasped a handful of the mane and began to pick out th<3 black threads.

‘One, two, three, four, five—” but t ns he was about to say six a violent jerk of the house's head drew the mane from his hand. Nothing daunted, however, the boy began again. Bob was running up the road at full speed. “Ha! ha!” hallooed a man by ths roadside, “ what are you doin’ ?” “ Countin’ hairs,” said Zttke. “ What a xittle fool!” exclaimed the tnan; “he might as well try to number ihe hairs of head, but before hs could get through with his job every hair would be gray.” But the dashfag horse and his bold rider were out of hearing and out cf sight. They went steadily on for nearly an hour. Zeke had counted a thousand and Bob’s run had dropped into a swift trot. “Hold on,” said a gentleman whom they met on the bridge; “where are you going to, without saddle or bridle ?” “Counting the hairs of the horse’s mane,” replied Zeke, never looking up. “ Why don’t you count the hairs oi his tail?” roared the gentleman, with much merriment; but on sped Bob with Zeke bending closely over his neck. Soon afterward the frightened horse oame to the Schuylkill Biver. Into the water he trotted, and soon he was swimming for the other shore. This Zeke had not expected. The shock of the cold water caused him to forget his count, and he was obliged to cling to the mane to save his life. “ Anyhow,” Zeke said, U I find the mane of some use.” When Bob reached the other bank he kept on as madly as before, but seeiug that his rider was more than a match for him, he at last stopped short and began to turn the head toward Zeke. Meanwhile Zeke had given over his attempt to count the hairs of the mane. What he was thinking about was how he could procure a bridla. His hands still grasped the hairs, which felt so smooth and strong that the lad decided to try and make a bridle out ol them. Wii>h his jackknife he succeeded in cutting off several strands, which he tied and twisted together in a clumsy fashion. A stick of crooked oak, whittled smoothly, served as a bit. Zeke looked with pride upon his odd pieces of harness, and he was delighted when Bob, responding to a pull of the r in, trotted off homeward. That night Zeke ate hig supper in pain in bed, but the str&ngc. adventure so worked upon his mind that it resulted in good. He appli <1 hims- 1 to his books, and now he is professor in ana of the best colleges of the country