North Branch democrat. [volume] (Tunkhannock, Pa.) 1854-1867, 1865-02-22


ny of which she had carried carefully with
her own hands, And now, in the gathering
dusk Of the summer night, she closed the
door, locking it behind her, and sat down up
on the gray stone.
How quiet the night was Only the
croaking Of frogs in the marshes, and the
shrill notes Of the whip-poo will, weird and
far off, borne by the night wind across the
lowl and An odor of Mgnonnette came up
from the little bower border at her feet
That border-who would tend it now And
the odor ignonnette-how it carried her
back to that morning, ten years before, when
Anson went away! She remembered that a
spray Of it was in her dress that day. She
had never smelled mignonnette since without
living the parting over again.
Ten years. And Margaret, sitting alone
in the cleaning, half wondered she were the
same girl that she was then, He looked at
her hands folded on her knee. How thin
they were! They used to be round and
and plump, she remembered. But whatever
else they had lost they had kept the firm
pressure ,oJ Anson's Sood by. they had al
ways seemed, they always would seem, q lit
tie better to her, remembring that.
Ten years She had promised to wait for
him forever. 1t seemed likely now that she
would. 1t was long to wait. Would he
never come back to claim her promise g
If he were alive. But what if he was dead ?
They all supposed he was. Perhaps he was.
Every one she loved had died, Why not
this one And if he were dead was her
promise binding Something outside of her
self seemed to suggest this. She looked
away through the darkness. A bright light
glanced from among the naples on the hill.
ii came from the bow-window of Squire Var
NUNS library. Margaret watched it a mo-
ment, thinking then of her own little room at
Mrs. Kittredge's. 1t was contrast certainly.
A word of hers would place her under the
CHEEKY lamplight Of shat library, with all those
old books looking down, and Squire Varnum's
genial face looking across at her. Should she
speak that word. But between her and any
such answer there came her own voice of old,
promising to "Wait FOREVER" Aud she re-
membered to well Anson's "Please Heaven
you shall never have to wait to long" to for
get it now. And so she would trust God
Wait and hope still, though 1t should hoping
against hope.
And then the shadows deepened, and the
flames Of sunset burned to ashes down the
west, and the figure Of the lonely girl was lost
in the gloom of the porch.
She started su ldenly. Something brush
ed against her foot. Only the cat she had
forgotten her until that moment.
Come pussy" she said, "You shall 60
too y and taking the old creature in her
arms she went down the walk, the creaking
gate swung behind her, as she passed out in
to the night
'The Frear Farm to be sold to-day" they
said. An auction was an event to the DIV well-
ers in this quiet land of farms. Early in the
afternoon the old vendue master was upon
the stand, shouting and gesticulatng in a
way which would have done justice to more
hotly contested sale. There were, in fact
but two competitors for the farm, Squer Var.
mum and Deacon Hall. The latter had Just
risen twenty five dollars above the price set
by his opponent.
"The Deacon's got it now," said voice in
= ho h,.t
new figure upon the scene.
On the street, in front of the house, just
under the poplars, wagon had stopped and
a tall man, bronzed and brown bearded stood
erect in it, looking down upon the crowd
with keen, steady eye.
"Twcnty- five hundred dollars " shouted
the auctoneer, ''Tm offered twenty five hun
ired dollars for Frear Farm Who bids
again Going, gentlemen Too cheap by
half. Golng"
Every ear awaited the final "Gone," when
. voice sung out, deep and clear as bell.
"Twenty-six hundred dollars %
The astonished farmers faced about to
nan, and scanned the new conner.
'Twenty-sx hundred and twenty-five !" |
7ociferated Deacon Hall, beholdiug his sup |
posed possession suddenly taking to itself
wings.
'Twenty seven hundred p shouted the
stranger, leaping from his wagon with a
oound add striding through the crowd. He
cached the stand just as the hammer came
lown.
''Gone for twenty seven hundred to.
What name, Sir ?" and the Vendue- master
turned to the stranger.
"My fellow townsman ought to do me the
lonor to remember that, Sir" he replied
With merry twinkle in his eyes.
"By all the powers believe it's Anson
Boise p exclaimed the old man, taking the |
stranger by the arm, and turning him to-
yards the light.