Evening Republican, Volume 21, Number 200, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 8 September 1917 — The Rivals [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

The Rivals

By Veronica M. Maher

(Copyright. 1S1", by W. G. Chapman:) ••rm powerful tempted, Missy, but Pm strlvin’ hahd to cireumlocute de straight and narrowpath.” Thus Zeke Washington, dusky of face and conscience alike, notorious for past misdeeds, reclaimed according to popular repute, but many a former adversary still crossed the street to evade him when mindful of his quick temper and proclivity for carrying a razor. Pretty Miss Viola Ray tried to cheer and encourage him. In a way, Zeke was a protege of herself and the family. He had once worked quite faithfully and efficiently for the judge, her father. Presuming on this when down and out and wrecked by a drinking bout, pretty well battered up, nerves shaken and penitent, he would appear at the house humbly asking permission to sleep in the barn and “so. bits” for “medicine,” 1. % “a hair from the dog that bit lilm,” and would emerge from obscurity in a day or two, built up and on the warpath after, daring negro foes who had “mussed him up" when he was too far gone with drink to counter scientifically. On the last of these recuperative occasions Zeke just grazed the horrors of delirium tremens. The judge had him removed to a comfortable bed In the attic and Viola and a servant nursed him by turns. Then Viola gave him a lecture. The fellow was amenable to gratitude. He really gave up drink after that, became a noisy and enthusiastic member of the little African chapel got a position as porter at the town electric light plant and became the stock in trade “brand plucked from the burning of the negro minister. — . “I hadn’t ought to bother you with my distresses. Missy," Zeke declared, “for you look as if you have some troubles of yer own,” and he eyed her

sympathetically and Viola, indeed secretly sad hearted, wondered at his powers of discernment. “That good-for-nothin’, measly Mose Blossom Is de thorn in my flesh. Howsomever, I may have been a bad razor man, but Mose is a regular chicken snooker and a dlsgrace to de profession.” “Is he troubling you, Zeke?” inquired Viola. J J , ... “He is dat. Missy. For why? When I got religion Mose comes in too. I don’t put on no style, but Mose —he swings de agony with his fine clothes and his silk hat and his silver-headed cane. Dey makes him a subdeacon and lets him take up de collections, while I, dat got in fust, am only a sort of extra usher., Dat am my grouch at the present time and mahk me, Missy, some day dose slippery fingers of his will stick to de coin of the congregation and de collection will be noncombatimus en swampto, yessum.” "Don’t be envious, Zeke,” chided gentle-hearted Viola. “You are doing very well and we are all proud of your excellent behavior.”' "Thank you, Missy, but some day Tse afraid I’ll give dat Mose Just one hahd clip to take some of the bambozzle scruptiousness out of dat important pussonage.” Zeke had cause to refer to the troubles of Missy. He had Incidentally heard that Dexter Ward, her foftner constant attendant, had left the village at odds with the charming creature whom everybody predicted he would marry. Zeke liked Ward. He had coveted a magnificent seal ring Ward wore, and had admired it,,.and Ward had compensated him for his longings by presenting him with a discarded stick pin. Keen-witted Zeke bad guessed that Viola was mourning for her absent lover, but did not presume to make more than an incidental reference to her troubles. Had he done so he would have found Viola mystified, wounded by the alienee, the

desertion cf a lover to whom she bad penned a little note in answer to his own one bright morning In the past, to find the same unheeded and the man she loved vanished to parts unknown. She lived on her desolate life with no complaints, with explanation to nobody and affairs moved on with Viola Ray in their natural course. Then one day with something of a shock she learned that Zeke, In dragging a visitor from peril near a great whirling driving wheel at the plant, had himself fallen against it, had been taken to the hospital to have one arm amputated and was regarded as a valiant life saver, if not an actual hero. It was four months later when she met Zeke on the street, smiling and cheerful and one coat sleeve empty. Viola began to condole with him, but Zeke would have nontraOEz “Don’t express any pity about me, Missy,” grinned Zeke. “You see, I gets big damages from de plant and a pension, so Tse fixed for life. And say, Missy, what you think? Dat lowdown Mose was cotched filching de collection plate and de congregation has appointed me treasurer. I passes de plate now, de finance committee deliberatin’ dat as I had to hold de plate with one hand and hadn’t no odder hand, consequently de funds was safe.” A week later Zeke sought out the rival he had defeated and supplanted. A poor washerwoman had complained to him that Mose had not paid her four dollars he had owed her for a year and understood that Mdse w’as about to leave town. “I’ll fetch him,” promised Zeke, and forthwith started for the domicile of his oldtime adversary. He located the room in a cheap lodging house where he expected to find him. He pushed Tpen the door to stare, first mystified and then fully enlightened, at Mose, posed before a mirror and unconscious of an intrusion. Mose had a great seal ring on one finger and was studying its effect as presented on his bulky hand. He took out a watch from his pocket and loftily consulted it. “I’ll shore cut a figger when I get into real sassiety in de city I” he guffawed. “Mose Blossom, whar you stole dem traps? I’se got you. I knows dat ring. I seen dat watch afore. Dem’s de property of Mr. Dexter -Ward and I’ll have you pinched in two minutes if you doant fess up on how you got them.” Mose told his wretched story. The night Dexter Ward left town Mose had burglarized hisroom. He had never dared to exhibit his plunder in public. “What else you got, hey?” pressed Zeke. “Only a little cash, dat’s all, and It’s all spent,” whined Mose. “And what else —you speak de troof, or you get a sure jail sentence.” “Only some letters, but was no money in dem.” “Whar is dem letters?” The miserable Mose turned them over with the rest of the plunder. He sneaked out as Zeke looked over the epistles. One only interested him. It was from Viola Ray. It answered a marriage proposal, made months previous, and because Dexter Ward had never received it he had gone away. “Just to find Dexter Ward and make Missy happy,” was the one dominant thought of Zeke Washington after that. And he did find him, and one evening he strutted down the street to the home of Viola Ray, his reward, the handsome watch and the big seal ring ostentatiously displayed. “Missy,” he said to Viola, “I’se got a story to tell,” and he told it. “All troo dat miserable Mose! And Mr. Ward is down at the hotel and I’se to deliber his message. And you is to answer it.” “Oh, tell him to come! Tell him to come!” sobbed pretty Viola, palpitating with joy, and hope, and love.

“I Hadn't Ought to Bother You With My Distress, Missy."