Litchfield enquirer., 1861-04-11
shouldn't go ahead" he said pertinaciously.- There's path here, and suppose it was made

to walk on."
 "Not for yeu," said the agent contemptousl, 50 go back as fast as you can."
 "Is it possible that people are made to trave a circuitous and unpleasant route, for no othe earthly reason than your caprices, sir? ?" aske' the gentleman. looking down at the little mai from the altitude of his six feet, with kind o laughing scorn. Did it ever occur to you, m, friend. that others had rights and convenience as we'll as yourself"
 Cant help their rights-nothipg to me, snarled the agent; planting himself obstinatel! in the path. II forbid all passing here v
 But suppose Everard Hardwehe may have the privilege of crossing his own land?" persist ed the stranger still presenting the half-eontemp tuous smile that had from the beginning made | the agent so uncomfortable.
 Talcott grew not exactly pale, but yellow with consternation.
 Mir. Hardwiche-sir. did not know-we did not expect"
 "No-I know you didn't, my good man. Be so kind as to step aside, and allow me to pass with the lady. Miss Jessie don't forget that need your services a few minutes yet When we reach the house, prolong my walk to your cottage. Nay, don't shrink away from ne-are we not to be very good friends?''
 1.-The prettiest girl ever saw in my life" was his internal comment, as he at length parted from her at the little gate, where burning bush es' and dark green ivy were trained together With all woman's taste.
 The Christmas SHOWS lay white and deep on the farm house caves the Christmas logs crack led on the hearth, where MT. Woodbridge still gazed dreamily into the glowing cinders, and Mrs. Keturah's knitting needles clicked with electric speed.
 That mortgage bothers melt bothers me, '' he murmured, almost plaintivey. "Well, " l s pose it aint no use frettin' but had thought ta live and die in the old place where my father did afore me. The Lords will be done. though. Somehow things haint prospered with mel aon't seem to get along.'
 You'd la' got along well enough, guess. responded Keturah, who belonged super-emi nently to that class of people known as Jobs comforters. if you'd only looked after your ps and as as told you. You was always to free tew
 Well, we'll, Ketury, we never did think alike on some things, returned the old man. Let's talk about pie ,santer subject What do yon think about cur schoolma 'ams marrying young Mir. HardwicEe tomorrow? Didn't always tell you that Jessie Moreton was born to be a lady? may be unlucky myself, but anyhow I'm glad to hear of little Jessie luck'
 "Youd great deal better keep your sympa thy for yourself" growled Keturah. |" Whats other folks luck to you, I'd like to know? There some ones knocking at the door-see who it's
 It was little note brought by one of the school hoys under Jessie's care.
 "Wheres my glasses? can't See as we'll as I coull once. Shove the candle this way, will you, ketury?' And fitting his brass bowed spectacles upon his nose, the old man unfolded the note aud read. in Jessies delicate chirogra- phv-
 Do not let that mortage disturb your Christ mas Day tomorrow, dear father Woodbridge It will never haunt your hearthstone again. Mir Hardwche will send you the papers soon to de- stroy. This is Jessie's Christmas present. ] have not forgotten those golden pippins' nor all the other kindnesses."
 Ina. wife ' said the old man, smiling and trying to tru ,h away. unseen, the big tears that ,rould come, what do you think of my invest ment noU?'
 Keturah's reply was neither elegant nor, strict ly speaking, grammatical, but it was significant, She said, simply
 "Well, Gever!"