Raftsman's journal. [volume] (Clearfield, Pa.) 1854-1948, 1861-04-17


| 1t was wild and lovely walk, winding a.
| mong moss-garlanded trees and holows, sweet
with aromatic incense of dying leaves. Jes-
| sic could not help admiringahe chivalric man.
| ncrs and polished courtesy of her companion,
and he was more than pleased with the bloom
| ing loveliness and grlish dignity of his young
! guide. A few adroit questions respecting
| Hardwicbe Hall and its neighborhood, sufficed
to draw forth spirited abstract of the charac-
| ter of the Hardwche agent, and the imposi-
/ tionS he was wont to practice upon the ten
ants and neighbors, as we'll as an arch descrip-
! ton OF most of the sscharacterS" thereabouts.
| Then he contrived to learn all about Jessie's
little school, and her ailing mother, and he
| smiled to himself, in the twilight, to observe
| the pride of mien, when she alluded to the
high position from which unforeseen reverses
| had compelled her mother to descend.
"Then,' she said, suddenly pausing with
! feeling as if she had been almost too commu
NEGATIVE, ssif we could only cross yonder lawn,
the gates are closed by, but we shall have to
| go a quarter of mile around.''
"Why ?'' asked the stranger.
ssMr. Talcott will not allow travellers to cross
here--he says that it is private property
SCI fancy shall dare Mr.. Talcott's WRATH"
said the gentleman, laughing he pushed
open the wire gate that defended the forbid
den space, 'sit is perfectly absurd to make
| people go quarter of mile out of their way
| for mere whim.''
| They had scarcely entered the enclosure
| when they met an unlocked for obstacle, Tai
| colt himself, who was prowling over the
grounds on the qui rire for trespassers.
"Hallo, here," growled he: just turn back
if you please. This isn't the public thorough
| fare.'
The stranger held Jessie's arm under his
little tighter, as if to repress her evident in
| clination to ssbeat retreat.'' He was dispos.
ed to maintain his position.
ssI don't see any reasonable cause why we
should mt go ahead,'' he said pertinaciousy.
ssThere is path here, and suppose it was
| made to walk on.o
s'Not for you,' said the agent, contemptu-
ously, $50 go back as fast as you camp
s'Is it possible that people are made to trav-
ell a circuitous and unpleasant route, for no
earthly reason but your caprices, sir 20 asked
the gentleman, from the altitude of his feet,
with kind of laughing scorn. ssDid it ever
occur to you, my friend, that others had
rights and conveniences as well as YOURSELF"
"Can't help their rights-nothIDg to me,'
snarled the agent, planting himself obstinately
in the path. Il forbid all persons passing here =
"But l suppose Everard Hardwiche may
have the privilege of crossing his own land 7''
persisted the stranger, still presenting the
half contemptuous smile that had from the
beginning made the agent so uncomfortable.
TaIcott grew. not exactly pale, but yellow
with CONSERVATION.
did not expect"
"No-I know you didn't my good man. Be
SO kind as to step aside, ami allow me to pass
with the lady. Miss Jessie, don't forget that
l need your services a few minutes vet.
When reach the house, will prolong my
walk to your cottage. Nay, don't shrink away
from me-are we not to be good friends !''
ssThe prettiest girl 1 ever in my life,''
was his internal comment, he at length
parted from her at the little gate, where sburn-
ing bushcs'' and dark green ivy were trained
together with all woman's taste.
The Christmas SHOWS lay white and deep on
the farmhouse eves-the Christmas logs crack
led the hearth, where Mr.. Woodbridge still
gazed dreamily into the glowing cinders, and
Mrs. Keturah's knitting needles clicked with
electric speed.
THAT mortgage bothers met bothers me,
he murmured almost plaintively. "Well,
s'pose it amt no frettin,' but | thought
to live and die in the old place where my
father did afore me. The Lords will be done,
though. Somehow things haiu't prospered
with mel don't seem to get along"
:sYou'd ha' got along well enough, 1 guess"
responded Keturah, who belonged super-emi-
nently to that class fpeople known as "Job's
comforters,' ssif you'd only looked after your
p's and q's as tell you. You always was too
free handed, and now you see what it's brought
ye tew.''
"Well, well, Keturah, we never did think
alike on some thiDgS,'' returned the old man.
"Let's talk upon pleasanter subject: What
do you think about your school ma'am's mar
rying young Mr.. Hardwiche tomorrow
Didn't always tell you that Jessie Moreton
was born to be lady? l may be unlucky
myself, but anyhow, Pm glad to hear of little
Jessie's luck.'
"You'd great deal better keepyou sympa-
thy for YOURSELF" growled Keturah. 'sWhat's
other folks luck to you, I'd like to know!
There-some ones knocking at the door-see
who it is.''
1t was a little note brought by one of the
school boys, under Jessie's care. s'Where's
my gassesl l can't we'll as could
once. Shove the candle this way, will you,
Ketury?'' And fitting his brass bowed spec
tacles upon his nose, the old man unfolded
the note and read, in Jessie's delicate chirog-
raphy:
sDo not let that mortgage disturb your
Christmas Day, tomorrow, dear father Wood
bridge. Hardwiche will send you the papers
soon, to destroy. This is Jessies Christmas
present. l have not forgotten those golden
pippins' nor all the other kindnesses.
.sAha, wife.' said the old man smiling and
trying to brush away, unseen, the big tears
that would come, sswhat do you think of my
investments now ~
Keturah's reply was neither elegant, nor,
strictly speaking, grammatical, but it was sig
nifcant. She said simply
swell, neverP'
It is a most fearful fact to think Of, that in
fe