The Highland weekly news. [volume] (Hillsborough [Hillsboro], Highland County, Ohio) 1853-1886, 1873-11-27

n hands chafng his own; of passing
s glimpse into eyes darkened with anx
It iety-anxiety for him. He raissc
s the hand that had been so chafed
: and passed it across his lips softly
r and it seemed to him that the odol
y of violets fingered about it still. A
t little while longer he lay and watched
e the cutting of the stick, till the boy
turned suddenly, said, ''Hallol" and
D began clambering upon the bed.
= you're to hush, you know" he
/ said, with all the grave authority of a
| young physician. "But you're better.
J I'm Jolly gladl Now I must go and
, tell"
"iFait one moment, Tony" said
Mr.. Japerne. "Tell me what it's all
about-and how long I've been here,
an i where is here? It's not the
inn?"
! The boy laughed, and then brought
his lips together with an odd contor-
ton.
'Im not to laugh" said he-"I
don't think I ougl t to speak. You're
sure it won't hurt you?"
"Quite sure, replied Mr.. Caperne.
"Well, then" said the boy, "you
fshe1 me out of the Cor, and broke
your arm. And you'd have been all
right long since, but they said fever
super-something. o, haven't you
talked nonsense, just! There now,
you're going red. 1 shall so catch it,"
"One word more" said Mr.. Cap
erne e-''is this your home?"
"1'o be sure it is, replied Tony.
"Ahl" sighed Mr.. Caperne.
Tie lad jumped down from the bed
with as little hustle as was consistent
with his turbulent nature, and went
away, shutting the door gently after
him; hut the unwonted caution was
lost upon Mr.. Caperne, for he lay
with his eyes closed, dreaming.
sYou 6shed me out of the Cor, and
broke your arm.
He remembered it all now-the
sharp, sudden pang, the sparks before
his eyes, the roaring mill-wheel.
How long was it ago? and who had
been his nurse? he wondered. The
trees in the wood were bare then
would they be green now? And his
picture, and the half-fnished bunch
of violets-what had become of that?
Mr.. Caperne had painted flowers be-
fore, but never with so careful a
touch. A vision rose before him of
the fiigety landlady in his room; of a
big duster, and brooms, and clumsy
fingers, that left no corner untouched,
and respected no lock. He grew hot
as be- thought of it, and of his Cwn
helplessness. Then all at once a
blackbird began to sing in tree out
side the window, and he was back in
the woods again, dreaming.
Who talks about the monotonous
dreariness of a sick-chamber? Mr..
Caperne wou d have spurned the no.
ton if he had not been too utterly
lansu and lazy for so much exer'
ton. Day after day he felt the latent
life coming back to him as he lay
there, dreaming. Pleasant dreams,
but foolish perhaps who knows?
He never took the trouble to consider
He had visions of a gentle old lady
will gray curls and a rather foreign
air, whom Tony introduced as 'Gran-
ny" and who purred about him in his
convalescence as though her whole
heart were in his comfort and his re-
covary. He remembered trying to
utter his thanks to her; breaking
down signally, and then feeling his
lips silenced by the touch of the kind
old land upon them.
"You will say no thanks, mon ills,
said the old lady, stroking his hair as
if ha had been child. "You saved
our boy; and, madcap as he is, we
can never repay you for that"
'If might see my kind host,
plea led Mr.. Caperne, "and assure him
tha5I am sensible of his hospitality"
"Ihat, you perceive, is impossible,
since my son is from home" said the
old lady. "He is in Scotland, and
will probably remain there for the
next month, SO that my patient must |
be content with his nurse for the
present. Now I go to see after lun-
cheun."
Mr.. Caperne looked after her with
a smile, and the gray curls that al
ways shook and quivered when she
talked seemed to have a sort of halo |
round them. He was dinly happy. |
The thought of his lonely wandering
life, and of returning to it, did come
upon him sometimes with a strange
sinking of the heart, but he shook it |
off He knew whose hand gathered |
the flowers that decked his table |
They brought a sort of mist into the
room, out of which there came again
to linn the eyes saddened with ankle
ty, and the shadowy touch of soft |
hand upon his own. He got to know
in n roundabout way at what hour
Aunt Lucy was accustomed to gather
these flowers, and then he never
rested until they let him get up and
sit 1t the window, where he could see
her without being seen.
One day, in his absorption, Mr. |
Caperne bent forward to the front of |
the window, and Aunt Lucy looked
up suddenly and saw him. 1t might |
have been the pathetic appeal of his
pale face, and the coatsleeve which