Marshall County Republican. (Plymouth, Ind.) 1856-1878, 1863-08-06
Che 5torp Geller.
JOB MILLER,S REVENGE.

clinging leaves that yet hung. like crimson
jewels, on the trees, seemed absolutely to
shuddsr in the bleak gusts of wind. and
the sky wac all shrouded in driving racks
oil inky clouds. Talk of the heights OF
Greenland. or the icy shores of Labrador
I'VE maintain that it was quito cold
enough for all reasonable purposes. in the
drear Businesses of those desolate Vermont
bills upon the December night!
All alone upon one Of those hillsides.
1estlei the omestead of Job Miller. al
most suggesting the quaint idea that it had
been wandering in search Of some compan-
ion farm house, and sat down among the
pine forests. in very WEAKNESS anil despair.
1t was w-eaved building guiltless of
paint. but stained with the winds and rains
of half a century, with broad stone In
front, and q creaking well-sweep lifting up
its guant arm in the rear--and Job Miller
had dwelt there, in toiling poverty. for
thirty years.
Put on another log of wood. Jasper
cool dry one. mind spoke Job to his
oldest son, as he came from brief survey
Of The weather at the door. It's bitter
cold night. and [ shouldn't wonder if we
had snow sfore mornin.'
And the great log crashed in among the
blazing embers with force that scattered
the sparks hither and yon, in eddying
showers. Job expanded his horny hands
before the genial blaze in silent satisfaction,
while bis wife brisk little woman in cal.
leo and rolled mp sleeves. parel vigorously
at a pan of red striped apples, and stall.
L. L II
up piece of broken harness on his knees.
Hush didn't ] hear he click Of the gate
latchp exclaimed Job. We'll its rather
arly for Hannah to be hum from Squire
Fields grand doins'. ain. it wife?'
ITS ten o'clock, said Mrs. Miller, with
glance at the time piece in the corner,
and -
But Mrs. Miller's speech was cut short
by the entrance OF Hannah, her eighteen
year old daughterl
Reader have you ever seen rose touch
ed peach nesting upon bleak and gnarled
branch? or an exquisitely penciled shell in
the ragged riffs Of some rocky beach? Ii
you have you will know how Hannah Mil
Ter looked. in that rude home circlel She
was rather diminutivs. but rounded like
Greek statue. with velvety brown eyes and
rippled bands of golden hair. and sweet
pea complexion, which was deity set off
by dress of bright blue merino, dainty
fitted to her perfect figure. And as she
stood there. eye and cheek frightened by
the bitter cold, and the tiny hood falling
away from her lovely hair, Hannah Miller
was perfect type of that glorious Ameri-
can beauty which is not rivaled throughout
all the world:
But she was not alone--for close to the
door stood tall. handsome young man,
with dark curling hair, and that indescri-
bable manner about him which tells Of
travel. cultivation and refinement Meth
er had those rocky hills furnished the silky
fur which edged his wrappi3gs, nor the
opal whose mystic light flashed from his
fore finger.
Father, said Hannah, putting her little
gloved hand appealingly on Job Miller
broad shoulder, will you speak to Horace
Clay? asked him to coma home with me
tonight
Job stood with bis back to the fire, sur.
veying the new conner with a sort of grim
displeasure.
Il thought he al length enunciated, in
slow distinct tone, that had sent you
word. young sir, that | wasn't expectin
this honor, nor yet wishin' for it,
Horace Clay came forward into the full
glow Of the freight.
'Iknow il. sir he replied. frankly; but
/ could not obey your limitations
May / ask you why?'
Because. sir. said the Young man. fix.
ing his clear eyes upon Jobs brown face,
Il love your daughter Hannah. Will you
give her to me to be my cherished wifs?''
Hannah would have stolen to Clay
side, but job Miller's iron clasp was on
her arm.
'Neverl' was bis energetic reply.
The blood rushed to Horace Clay Z
cheek.
Perhaps. sir. you are unaware who
.On the contrary. am perfectly aware
You are Eustace Clay's son-the million.
aires son. And, young man, added Nil.
Ter with cold gaze. 'you are very like
your father
is tina. o crime sir?'
To mo yes! And you want my rose
4 love bar. sir. with my whole hear,
and SOUL
Very well. Go back to your million.
aire father. Horace Clay. and tell him
say that / viii never give you my child
Have you no reason to render for this?'
asked Clay, struggling to repress his pas
sion.f~s1 ras
Ask him II he remembers when we were
young together, ask him of the business
transactions, in which be left the brand o
ditgrsce- disgrace, mind Won
do upon me, to further his own ends
Ak him if be remembers the tardy justice
which could not restore the lost years o.
life--wtich compelled me to hide my head
among these rocky hills. Perhaps he has
forgotten i'll have not. / am missrably
poor and obscure-he is rich with ali :as
money car procure. Tell him to see i
those treasures Of gold will buy his sons
happiness.
'Thers was 4 moments silence, then
Miller turned to his wife:
Rachel, take this child sway-she Ia.
r. ,