The Tiffin tribune. (Tiffin, Ohio) 1868-1887, 1870-04-29

had bought the farm and mill. 1t
was a sign Of the ordinary east OF her
mind, Laurence thought, that now,
when her life and his hung over
precipice, she could stop to ask ques-
tiOns about lot of paupers whOnlshe
had never seen.
'Srhere are but the two children,
Manly, then ~ she asked.
"Jest So" said Manly, unbarring
his shutters. There's the cripple Alick
and Jane. But the old woman, she
/ finds for both. Jane is but a hail.
witted woman, and Alick-well, he's
cripple, = told you. Bedriddcn
since he was boy. 1t was his back,
/ heerd; there was talk of cure once,
/ but after the old man died they could
not fee the doctors. So that fell
| through"
RCdIidden since Le was hoy: ." she
said To herself.
"They're miserable pOOr-the Far
rels. The devil wouldn't pick their
/ bones" pursued Manly They're a
shiftless set, you see, except the old
man. He was good carpenter, and
bid fair to lay by sOmethingfO for rainy
day. But since he's been gone the
old wOman's had too heavy weight to
carry TO do her justice. They were so
hard up last winter, heerd, that she
was obliged to send Jane to the poor
house. That 'ud nigh kill the old
woman, reckon but Alick was as
much as she could do for"
Woodworking, Manly. Bertha,
come; | wish to talk to you" pulling
her arm.
She nodded, but did not move. Her
| flesh where he touched il was cold as
that of a person under great nervous
excitement.
'1 did not know of these people,
Manly" in q pleading voice.
''Tut, child What if you did? Are
you responsible for the whole country
side They live m0re'n six miles of,
the Farrels. It's my old place, or I'd
have known nothing about them. I'll
let down the bar ifyOu'l stand aside,
Bart. Here's Lukens' COW coming.p
"Berthav
She did not hear him, looking after
the cows vaguely, and then, her chin
leaning on the fence, standing silent.
Once or twice she began TO speak, bat
her voice failed her. She said at last,
''Fhe old man that you spoke Oft is
long time since he died?'
i'Nigh onto twenty years, II he's
dead. You've surely both on you
heerd the story about Farrell ?' He
did not wait for her to answer, or no
tice that she kept her face turned from
him, or that Laurence had walked
away impatiently, but went on forget
ing too, in his relish for the old story,
the chops waiting for him indoors.
"He was missing, Farrell YVES.
Went from home one spring day, to
collect some money due him, he said,
and never come back. 1t wasn't the
money that tempted anybody to his
death, for the man that owed it paid
it the next week-(yer own father was
the man, by the way, Bart. Farrell
had never got this far for it. They
found a body they took to behls, miles
down the river, long after. 1t was a
queer story. Farrell was good fellow,
quick with with his tongue, but had
MT an enemy in the world. It's odd
We never heerd of it before, Bart"
Eyes, it's odd"
eyer father didn't like to talk of it,
/ reckon. He had good feelin,' the |
old man had. An then, being the
man Farrell started to meet and all,
it come kind of near to him, no doubt.
Come in and take cup of coffee,
child No? Well, it's dOleful story |
you've drawed out of me on yer we'd |
din day. Hey? GOOd-day, good |
day p' and chuckling, the old fellow |
limped in, looked back TO nod and |
laugh to her over his shoulder. He |
wished he had not told il to her. She
was mighty tender-hearten woman.
She was standing, still and cOlorless
as a corpse, staring down into the |
dusty road, he told his wife when
he went in.
TDnNmTNyIIrn I