Stumps of Good Timber

A COMPLETE NOVELETTE

T.

Old Drew Suckle wa* mad; for years, and years, a rim *re?d had led him into the depths of : elfshm s-. *raspins for other men’s .ands and l mon. ' ; his cunning had enabled him ' to lead his neighbors in the mountains Into desperate financial rtrait« to hU advantage. He bad at last, held in his hands a great fortune, but he lacked the knowledge that would enable him to profit by it—or even to ; recognize the presence of thi fortune in fhe 2400 rough mountain meres of the Range 4 Lots. Now Old Drew wandered tp and down the mountain crying: V **'- "A skun log floats! A ek'« log

floats!'’

• People said Old Drew's n adness was the direct punishment of hi*; sins which were many and varied; others 1 said that it was his ignorance which bad fallen upon him; others even more r. pgaosophical. declared that If Old \ Drew hadn't been ignorant he w Ju’dn't have committed so many sins and ttu.' sin was ignorance, anyhow. Accordingly, old Drew became the subject and the warning of many oountain sermons in the white church, the block . choo!house. and in the rivals. He came to the meetings and his shrill, weird voice would se uncannily at the services as he

touted:

“A skua log floats! A skun log

Joats!"

' All this petty little knowledge, rickery, craft and perseverance In jreed had come to that one phrase «nd fact. He would take his little atchel in bark-peeling time, and ross

bark irom hardwoods, gums,

liter, sugar-woods. He would stand he poles in the sunshine and carry-

in the autumn to see them float

Clinch river, or any cf the tribu-

creeks and runs. A tact that had

iped his ignorance was now all

remained of his intelligence. Sal-Bet Legere was of good and her man Tip was willing. Old Drew a cabin to live in kept him eating. Really, the old was happier than he had ever before. Fear of not making

ley. fear of being beaten In a bar1, fear of poverty had given way at

sheer contentment of knowing thing, the thing that had made

f bim mad!

now he rambled up and down tg everyone what was no longer Time had been when portion of such a secret would have him to the meanest and most desable of expedients to prevent othfrom knowing and profiting by it. >ow his mad mind rejoiced in telling to all, which was a complete reireal of habit of thought and mind. Had a madness for giving awayhad been a piecious secret! little by little the tendency to someone else became brighter Nui-kle's darkened soul. From lekering sparkle. It widened and [>ened till he would carry his hat of berries down to the sevenyll district school and give to each the teacher a sweet hand to go with the pone lunches. He led bushels of nuts to that wreted cabins of the Ayerty-stricken, dwelt a stupidity- denser than own madness. He returned to the tlness of his own chllbood and r-lnk, coon, murk-rats and irs with wire snates and deadjills, and somehow managed to trade iem off for the benefit of some one | The j>Prs and delight with which )cple had greeted the downfall of the old skinflint gave way now to pity and wonder, as they saw his genwity grow before their eyes, and Kounted it. the most remarkable phenomenon ol his change of mind. | Once mad. always mad! People Old Drew belter insane than lane, however. No one feared him low. and he was more welcome than |upy a man who despised his weal - pi--*nd hated him for what he had Away down i.i the madness was luethlng which showed that he rembered the old days and acts and ^ashamed of them. When he met e whom die had misused of old. Id turn his head away, like a Frauchi stealing •'dickens t-r kill- | sheep. He avoidi -1 the people whom he had ta. en pr 'fits, » Ism's he had lawed away, or m he had beaten in unfair trades, to the children of these families always showed special favor. He jg'.ii them wild fruits and nuts, am! k them hints for catchine tish o’-

king fur.

pe day in early summer, when big war began, he disappeared |eabin on the Gospel and Uterat was abandoned. He had been a ‘he new Contract road going | grade out ui the mountains, just jtsk. but wh'ther he was going mid tel! or know.

Days lengthened into weeks and months, and people decided that Old Drew had fallen into some deep river . or he had wandered up Into the mountains where he had died, perhaps from sickness, perhaps from Injury. As he belonged to no one. no wittt to seek him. Hard times came on all the mouii'ain people Markets for their timber closed: the price* of furs came away down: there no place left to sell sang or herbs: revenue officers wore more active cutting off the market for their crops of grain ard fruit by destroying moonshine stills. Ev mbing that was purcha sed •'outside’’ began to go up and up—sugar, coffee, flour, salt and the like, as well as all cooking utensils, all manufactured fabrics, leather and rubber boots and hats. Poverty among the people grew so Intense that nothing else could be thought about Old Drew had taken his departure—and the people had other things to think about, which were, as they supposed, much more Important. O’d Drew Nuckle. however returned the winter that followed. He looked teT years younger; he walked with brisk footsteps; he had a strange Ugh*, in his eyes—madness, but not the old Insanity. Not once did he say “A skun leg floats!" Instead he cried: Boys! They wouldn't take me for warring, but I kin he'p! I kin he'p!’’ Crazy? Crazier than ever! Poor Old Drew had something wrong in his bead, somewhere. A laugh went up. but Drew persisted In saying that they could all help, up there in the mouns. He set the example for them; he t out into the clearings and old cutaveis and gathered up chunks of old stumps that stood !n the fields the pieces of wood that had *'• and weather hardened while all the rest of the stumps and roots decayed. He had lost his mind, people reminded one another. In a dicker over 2400 acres of land where black walnut grew in fine stand. Now he gathered pieces of black walnut stumps, gnarled boles and knots and roots. Fie dug them out with pickax and shovel, and toted them down to his Gospel and •'- Lure Lot cabin, piece by piece. Some of the chunks were no longer than his forearm; others were so large and heavy that he had to upend them over and over, or roll them down to his front yard. "What are yo’ doin’. Drew?" people would ask. "I’m he’pln’ In the war!" the old man would reply, not pausing in his efforts. *T’m a he’pln’!” There was a laugh in avery time Drew Nuckle made his reply. The old had somehow picked up the notion that he was helping wage war for civilization, liberty and oppressed nations by gathering the material fit a snag-siump fence. He was not satisfied to work alone, at that. When he went mad he had had several thousands of dollars iiuried in the ground, and for a long time neither he nor anyone else could find .he money. Now he brought out. mysterious gold, silver, nickel and copper coins. Shrewdly he held silence about the source of his supply, and no could follow him to where he tapped his hidden hoard. He hired help gathering those ridiculous chunks of wood. Old Drew's madness was a boon to his noun tain neighbors; the pennies nd small silver which paid the little children for gathering black walnut chunks salted many a dinner, got raisings for many a mess of hot bread and added necessities to many a poverty stricken cabin. The unfeeling laughed as they gazed that shimmering, gnarled, black heap of walnut chun ks raising in Old k Nuckle’i* yard. From a little pile, like a section of stump fence. It grew till it covered square yards, then square rods. The mass increased till It was as large ns a cabin, and finally, (ill it was as big as the famous Ma'blo palace over on Holston. From a few score chucks, it grew until there were fairly hundreds ol cord) of chunks, to which thousands i f acres t f cut-over lands had contributed. Only black walnut pieces e in the mass. Old Drew Nuckle »• woods, none better. He coull recognize by feel the smooth, beautiful texture in '.he blackest night when e mountain fugitive from justice dickered with him: he knew the swell of a shaving of walnut from any other kind of wood; light knot or deadweight bole, he was not to be forded. "What yo' gofn' to do with U?” a man asked. "I'm gwine to he'p fight in the war!' Old Drew grinned. "But how are yo' goln' to he'p fight the war with that stuff?” the man persisted. Old Drew puzzled to find an answer

Old Drew's wood pile!"

She had a rifle of her own, a 25-S5 caliber, which her husband had given her to shoot at wild turkejs and squirrels and other game. She took it and started on her horse down the road, with her belt of ammunition. Sbe found Old Drew sitting on the | sunny side of his heap of chunks.

The observers saw his mad face. fondling a piece about 2° Inches lone, twitching and his tongue wrapping ] ppven indies wide and shaped like the

By Raymond S. Spears

Defective Flues and Overheated Stoves

Itself around, trying to pat forth th; answer that clove In his throat. He could not answer. Out of the days before he was insane had lingered the old reticence—he could not betray this secret of bis industry, much as he wanted to. so strong bad been the habit of silence that he had lost the power of clear expression. The Legeres. In their friendliness tried to stop Old Drew from spending all his money which he began now to recover from its hiding place He refused to take their advice. Instead, he begged them to take money In return for the hundreds of unrolled black walnut stumps up onto the Range 4 lots. Out of the pity In their hearts, they took the 10-cent. 50-cent and dollar silver pieces, even pieces of gold, but saved his money for him for the day when be should need it again. They watched Old Drew and his young helpers grubbing out the old stumps and dragging them down to his cabin, which was bes-.de the new Contract road, over which the automobile stage now carried the mail and which *be Legeres drove their own little gasoline machine. Old Drew Nuckle's industry and perseverance never flagged. He put himself In possession of all the old black walnut stumps and chunks on that side of the mountains for miles and miles arouno. Old fields were grubbed out, new cut-overs cleaned, even old fences replaced by new, and the abandoned ruins of log cabins were taxed, seeking the waste for which Old Drew would pay real

money.

At the last, adults were bringing in cld timber on their wagons or even strapped across the saddles of their horses, glad to have the pennies which the madman would give them. How long Old Drew would have gom on collecting those chunks no one couid tell. Somewiu re. somehow, he hnd caught one fleeting fact In the welter of ideas and opportunities that grew up with the outbreak of the big war. Somehow, his mad mind had seized upon the fact of one real need in the world crisis. He had set about trying to supply that need. He had gathered thousands upon thousands of chunks, even one of black walnut, some whole stumps, wind polished roots and knots. He had them, but his poor enfeebled mind did t t tell him whet to do with them. He was like the young, untrained robin with the insinct to build a nest, gathering bushels aud bushels oi twigs and mud and grass and other material, spreading it along all the beam of a barn, but not understanding

building.

So Sal-Bet Leigere wondered about his Idea. She grappled with the fact that i.’e old fellow must have some incentive, somewhere, to start him gathering those chunks. Little by little, she applied the shrewdness Inherited from her fether. Old Crumby, first at one point, then at another. Black walnut, in long timber was valuable, of course. Her own fortune was based on the sales of walnut tree logs. But here was a vast mass of mere little chunks. Old Drew bad paid as high as five cents a dozen for walnut pieces, no larger than her wrist and hand. He had received an Impulse somewhere, he had seen an c> portunlty—seized it. w-irked It out, and now he had forgotten what It was. He could n it remember what he bad had

in mind.

“He’s ilke a miser who sets out to get money enough to buy a farm, and then forgets what he wants the gold for. and he keeps on saving, and saving. never knowing when he has had enough, or when to stop!” she

thought.

One day she heard a rumor. Some of the wild young men were going to have some fun with Old Drew. They were going down to the old mans place and bui d a fire in one end cf (he great snag pile, and ^t back and enjoy seeing the old man romp and rage around. Sal-Bet knew that the young scoundrels wouid do what they were talking about. It seemed to h- r to be a wanton shame, but she could not see her way clear to preventing It. Teasing the crazy old man was common enough. “It's his own wood!” she agreed with one youth. "You have no right to bum it!” "Yah—hit's no count—old sticks an' stung j!” she was told. "Hit'd be fun to set it blaze up, an' Old Drew roarin'. tearin' around '' "He’d sure kill somebouy'' she sug

gestod.

"Shucks!" the youth retorted. "He ain't got no gun ” "Well. I have!" ahe exclaimed. 'Tin goin down mere, an' Fil shoot any [ young scoundrel I find try in 'to burn j

folded wing of a bird. "Hit's a puny! Hit's a purty!" he as mumbling to hlmsel f . "Yas, sub, it's a purty!" •’Hello, Drew!" she roused him front his dreams. "Some young troandrels lowed they'd burn yo' wood pile, an' hyar's a rifle. If they try hit!” "Burn my wood pile?" he repeated stupidly. "1 ain't got no wood pile, but, Lawse! 1 got this yeah cr.unks —look't Mis' Legere! Yo' kin have this yeah one, 'count of yo' bein' good ae. See—fo' yo' rifle, an' hyar, fo’ yo' hand grip—when yo’ fight them as—them as aln' peaceable to'd wc'uns, an' rowdy aroun'!" "Wba-wha—" the shrewd mountain woman gasped, as she saw what the old man had almost forgotten, "yar. sub. Drew! Hit's so! Yo'-all's he'pln make rifles!” "Jes’ so!" he smiled. “Hit’ my little shares, yes. Indeed! war too mean an* oner}', back in our Civil War times to he'p ary side. Now, I'm too ole to fight, so I grubbed out these yeah all these heah! I couldn't do no no'. Mis’ Cal-Bet! I see you got •o' rifle. This yeah'd make a puttier butt, hit’d fit belter, an' when yo' youn-uns git to shootln'—Lawse! Mebby—mebby yo'-all will sort of think of me. all crippled up an' no 'count, he'pln' make yo’ rifles!” Indeed the boys'll remember she cried, and as she turned her horse to gallop to find her man. she called. "I'm a coming right back Drew!" When Tip Leigere heard the thing that Sal-Bet had devined. and when he knew that old Drew Nuckle had collected black walnut for tens of thousands of rifle butts and barrel grips, he laughed aloud with Joy. It was just so! He rode out. *hen. and gathered young men to guard that great heap of chunks, stumps, knots and pieces, so that they would be preserved against any raiders. Then he rode down to the railroad station, and when he returned, he brought a telegram offering a fortune for Old Drew's collection of old pieces of black walnut, fit especially for m<Ucing rifle butis and hand grips. And with that message old Drew's mind pened up a little more. He could see a brighter light. He felt that he had been doing s omething to

help.

Stoves, stovepipes, and chimneys, If or wire, and worked up and down in improperly installed or carelessly , the chimney from the !jp A flue hole used, always constitute a fire menace, j should never be filled with old cloths Stoves and stovepipes should be placed or other infiatntiiable material, but at a good distance from ine walls and should be covered in a secure manner woodwork and usually a piece of iron with a metal flue-stop,

or tin or preferably asbestos, should be used to cover the nearest surface. If Iran or tin Is us *d an air space should separate it t.om the wall or

woodwork.

oves and stovepipes should be put up solidly. In general, stovepipes should not pass through wooden partitions or through ceilings, and in castsuch installation can not be avoided, a metal thimble, which can be purchased from any tinsmith or stove dealer, or tile insulator should be placed around the pipe. Chimneys should be examined periodically for cracks. It cracks occur In a chimney they should be filled with plaster or cement at ?. as fire often creeps through such cracks to the woodwork. Cracks that may be dangerous and that might not otherwise be found can be discovered by building a smudge in the stove and placing a board or wet sack over the chimney. Smoke will then be forced out of the cracks. All chimneys and stovepipes should be cleaned regularly to remove the and other inflammable material that may have got !nto them. A chimney can best be cleaned by means of pieces of metal (such ns scrap tin),, limbs of an evergreen tree, or a bundle of brush attached to a rope, chain

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“l cayn't shoot none." he shook his head, "but I kin he'p make rifles, yes. indeedy.” No one laughed now when the; heard him say that. They pitied him; they remembered, too. that he had spent all his money, keeping then in salt and sugar and coffee, trying with all his feeble mind's might to atone for the things that lie had neglected do in the wa-. of his youthful years, there in the mountains.

0, for the Good Old

Days

When There Were No Buttons to Push Will you tell us. Mr. Genius, where we're heading for these days—we common, funny humans, with our queer and freakish ways;? In baby flats you tucks us. when tne shades of evening fall. In abed that has a mirror—one that hung upon the wall. Then you’ve taken old-time pantries, where a fat man could rot get. and you've fitted them up snugly and you've called them kitchenet. In our fireplace in the parlor, with its comcomfort (there's the rut) you have made us push a button—hokus pokus —on bathtub. And today, so we've discovered you have reachid the limit, quite—you have made our parlor table so 'twill be abed at night. So we ask you. Mr. Genius, as you rip our flat apart, why not just use serving tables —let us all live a la carte?

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