Spirit of Jefferson. [volume] (Charles Town, Va. [W. Va.]) 1844-1948, 1870-05-10
MISCELLANEOUS.
THE FARMERS STORY.
BY MARY KATE DALLAS.

'Ceeu YOU slL tue Ieuce. WEIIlD3
that little book. l thought perhaps you
might be writing poetry. A good many folks
come down here of summer and make
poetry about the sheep and the moon. Peggy
reads 'em out to Inc in the paper, and the
stories too, sir. Do you write stories? Yes2
Well, that's a gift. If l had it l think 1
could make one about what has happened to
me. Peggy says it could be DONE
"Now it's all plain sailing, nothing out of
the common; but [ wasn't always a well>to-
do old farmer. Once L was farmers boy
hand with nothing of my own but stout
heart and strong limbs, and good health.
"Many's the night, when the stars were in
the sky, [ used to go out to the great pasture
where the sheep bronsed all day; and sit and
think thoughts L had no words for, and make
beautiful pictures for myself in my mind
not fine ones, sir. This is what used to see
the oftenest: A little cottage with wide
fire place, such as they had in my day. A
dresser with row of delf uponit, four chairs
and a table of white pine. When had these
I was to marry Peggy Grey. But when 1
should have them, and she her white wedding
gown and the house linen, neither of US knew.
"She put her sixpenses into red earthen
saving bank, and 1 kept mine in an old glove.
For two years we had been waiting and hop>
ing and were not much nearer than at first.
Sometimes l felt downhearted. Sometimes
her little letters were bit sad And jnst as
l sat in the meadow knew she sat before her
kitchen fire in the house where she lived at
service. Simple folks we were, but we had
hearts, and felt, perhaps, as deeply as greater
folks might.
"My master, the farmer, was close man,
Il. 4
possible. But it was steady place, and he
paid all he promised so 1 staid, never think
ing what trouble staying would bring me to
trouble that never would have come but
for Mark Hulker. A good-for- nothing fei-
low he was, dis grace to the rest of us, and
he cheated the master and left his work un-
done. So after hours master set at his stint,
and it being indoor work, kept at it all night.
The old man liked that, and set me a new
task every night All the better for me,
thought, he would pay me extra, and what
was WEAKNESS to me if it brought me nearer
to my Peggy. So counted the hours work
as so many shillings But when Saturday
night came he gave me just my weeks work.
"Master," said I, "I've worked over hours
every night, you forget that"
"I hire you by the week." he said. 'Tll
give uO ulOI6 Ludu Ou0 week wages. CO, IL
you don't like it, there are plenty of strong
lads to be had if you are growing lazy
Then he turned his back on me, and Mark
laughed. That angred me, and words fell
from my lips. We had quarrel, master and
I, and | called him 'niggardy old rascal ;
and with that he dismissed me from his SER
vice.
cat dawn you co. he said. you've
how r;pbk 20 haH o.
night, but at dawn you CO.
81 marched out of the room, with words
never should have used, and up to my garret,
and threw myself on my bed. But 1 did not
mean to be turned out At midnight l rose
softly made up bundle, and climbed out
of a window. 1 cut my hands with the glass
of broken pane and the blood dropped
down upon my clothes. But was too angry
to feel the pain; and bound up the wound
with a handkerchief Then I trudeed on,
meaning to look for work next day. So did,
but found none. Then the thought struck
me to make my way to - and see Peg
gy. 1t would be comfort to me, whatever
came. So turned my steps in that direction.
and kept on until night fell. Then, faint and
weary 1 lay down under some bushes and fell
asleep.
"Out of that sleep was aroused by a
shout and the clutch of strong hands. Men
stood about me. One shouted my name
They held me fast and bound me.
'sI struggled, but it was no use. Numbers
were against my single strength.
'sWhat are you? Robbers I've nothing
worth the taking said, at last :; when stand
ing still, saw faces knew about me-these
of the farm hands at my old masters.
ssYou know we'll what we want. Jack
Mariome, said one. IF he did speak an i'll
word at last, be was good man in the main,
and you'd worked for him three years. You
might have answered him as you liked, but
to try to murder him was too horrible We
didn't think it of you Jack-we didn't think
it
ssAIurdered {" I cried. Is old master
murdered2 Why lay it to me? 1 swear I
never hurt him.