The Milan exchange. (Milan, Gibson County, Tenn.) 1874-1978, 1874-08-13

there was something in Claras face that
smote him to the core. Phil took both
her hands in his, and looked in Clara s face
with an agony of entreaty.
"Clara," he cried, "what is this? Oh,
come to me. You know how / love you.
Let this man take care of his own. and do
you come TO me! Your duty is no longer
here; it is at my place yonder; or if not
there, dnyaohere, so long as it is with me.
If you do not like it here, we'n travel,
Clara. You know have enough and to
spare. You shall see for yourself all these
wonders and scenes that seem to fascinate
you so. Clara, oh, Clara, why don't you
speak? why do you turn your head away
from meT'
She turned her beautiful head, and teals
were really in her eyes. Us, sic wept
for me. and well she might. | knewit
was all over. | dropped her hands, and
raised mine to heaven in despair. L knew
not what l did: it makes me faint now to
think of it. The poor desperate lad, how
| pity him!
She clung to me with both her cold white
hands.
"Phil, Phil" she said, "listen to me.
You break my heart. Oh, what shall |
do? am so sorry for you, so bitterly sor-
ry. / wish had died before had given
you this misery. But listen, Phil. You
suffer now, know; but it's only boyish
fancy; it will pass, dear-pass quite away.
am too old, entirely too old for you, Phil.
1t is an insuperable Obstacler'
"And this man-this Gerald Mason"
stammered-" is there no disparity there?'
at is on the mans side, Phil, and that
is everything
| turned away and dashed like madman
through the underbrush; the owl scream
ed and hooted jeeringly after me he liked
it just as well, that cynical old owl, as if it
had all gone the other way.
God only knows what kept Phil alive
that wild March night. He wandered
frantically, mile after mile, drenched to the
skin, chilled to the. marrow of his bones,
the wind bowling after him, and not a ray
of comfort in the black infinite sky or the
storm-tOsSed, misery-laden earth.
A month or two later his friends got him
abroad. In his turn he wandered through
foreign lands, in the hope to forget. |
don't think he succeeded very well; he re-
membered it all bitterly enough; but he
gained a sort of grim philosophy that help
ed him through. Then he was amused,
certainly, with the strange scenes about
him, took a lively interest therein, and had
no outward semblance of heart-break in 4
wear or two. He looked old for his years,
folks said, old and worn, somehow, and at
twenty-five was bearded as a pard. and
grave and cynical as the ancient owl in his
native woods. Where he wandered and
what he saw would fill many a volume, if
Phil were fool enough to write about it !;
but fortunately for you and for me, he
never has attempted that ungrateful task.
For fifteen years he was a wanderer on
the face of the earth, and only returned a
short while since, because there were no
new fields he cared to explore.
His soul was not so dead when he reach
ed his native land that he was altogether
remiss i'm the required enthusiasm. For
the first time since he had left it Phil felt
glad that he was alive, and when he gained
his ancestral wood, he looked even iocular-
ly for his cynical friend the owl.
He could see the gables of the old Mason
mansion yOnder. Gerald and his mother
were both dead, and Clara lived in the old
house with her step-daughters. She had
no children of her own, but report said she
was happy with those of her husband. The
boy hal died at school, but the girls had
grown TO wOmanhOod, and Jessie, Phil's
little favOrite, was reported to be beautiful.
How clear the atmosphere seemed to
Phil Since he had left Syria he had found
no such vivid sunshine. One could see
for miles and miles-he almost thought he
could discern the spikes in the old Mason
fence. Phil found he was getting into the
habit of wondering about the people yon-
der, and he determined to cure that at once.
He would 90 and see his old friend Clara
and the girls.
So cutting a sturdy slip from one of his
own hickory saplings, he resolved to
walk over to the old place and see what
fifteen years had done by the way. One
landmark after another was passed. Phil
began to think that either the world had
stood quite still or that time had dealt very
tenderly with this bit of land, over which,
years agone, he had Travelled so joyously.
Yonder comes another pedestrian. She
is woman, tall and graceful, but her step
is slow, and there is a sadness about her
figure, somehow, that frets Phil; 4; it seems
to Jar with the glad bright landscape
about him. In the distance he can see
that she is pale too, and, alas! yes, she is
no longer young. But from out a neigh
boring copse there springs another figure,
and catches up with the tall pale lady.
Her hands are full of wild flowers. Phil
can see the glow on her cheek; and now
he is close enough to find that this one is
Young and beautiful, and that her pres
ence is in tone with the sweet summer
day.
with the slight courteous inclination
that is exchanged on a country road be-
tween strangers, Phil passes on, but is
stopped suddenly by a voice that is
strangely, sadly, wonderfully familiar.
1t is he" said the tall, pale lady; 81
am certain of it; but as he has forgotten
me, let us go on, Jessie"
Il knew your voice, Clara cried Phil,
''but had forgotten your face" Then
he Joined them and they walked on home
ward. He talked to his old favOrite, little
Jessie Mason, now woman, winsome,
bright, and lovely. He told her how lit
! tie changed he had found the neighbor-
hood about his old home, and what a de-
light it was to him.
THAT YOU owe to mamma" said Jes-
sic. ''She won't have a tree cut down or
a new one planted. and if even one of the
old rusty spikes in our ugly fence gives
way, she has another one in its place i'm
mediately."
Phil looked over to Clara. How strange
! it was TO see her so changed, and every
| thing else so familiar He felt a keen
paug when he found himself within the
! Mason inclOsure. 1t seemed to him as if
he had been dead long time, and his
! spirit had suddenly taken a fancy to stalk
about the old torture place.
| But this wore away after a visit or two,
and Phil made many visits there. Clara
was not very strong, and the younger
daughter was away but Jessie was al
ways ready TO walk or drive with Phil.
| He declared that he must make pilgrim
ages to all the favorite hooks of his boy
hood; that he had neglected them for for
/ eign shrines, and must make amends.
| Weeks merged into months, and sum-
mer was on the wane, when Phil at last
made up his mind to wander abroad nc
more. but to settle down under his native
/ skv. and marry, and be happy-reasOnably
happy. not madly or rapturously; that
was gone with the past. But why should
everything be lost? reasoned Phil.
Here was Jessie, this sweet little wood
land flower; she would make yonder viii
/ derness to bloom and blossom as the rose
She was bright, loving, winsome, in form
and feature, young. Uery young; but thai
mattered little. so long as this time the
years were on the right side.
Jessie was fond of him evidently-Phi
/ felt certain of that-and would in time
smooth all these creases out of his life
They would be happy, reasonably happy
without doubt. He would cherish he