Staunton vindicator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1860-1896, 1876-06-16


tcning about with the brisk wintry all
Sally's was always the biggest apple iron
the finest tree in the orchard; the mos
luscious grapes from the grapery foun'
their way to Sally's desk; and in the III
tervals of his possessing penknife young
Master Randall left no blunt pencil il
Sally's satchel.
When it became necessary that he should
be gent to a place Of instruction befttin!
his station in life, and the fiat had gon
forth that the dear old days at the village
school should become part and parcel o
the past; when he must bid goodbye tt
his romps in the new-mown hay, his race
with the young colts in the ten-acre field
his berrying and picnicking, his coastnG
down the glorious old hill when he mus
part with his dog Lancer and his gun ant
his pony-above all, with Sally-it was
heartlending time. Whatever grown W
folks may think of these childish grefs
they are as tough to bear as the heayiel
ones that come later, and they leave great
ugly scars that are sometimes only hall
healed over.
When Will Randall cut Sally's name
and his own deep into the bark of the old
walnut tree at the foot of the lane, il
seemed to him that the knife went into his
heart with every turn of the letters in. her
precious name. Tears rolled out of his
eyes in spite Of his manly endeavor to
choke them down; as for Sally, she had
given way long ago, and with her sunbon-
net tight down over her face, was water
ing the gray old moss at the foot of the
tree with floods of childish woe.
At last it was done; there were the in
itials linked together deep in the rugged
bark: the crimson light from the western
sky shone full upon each and all. Will
put his knife back in his pocket with a
click Of determination, gulped back his
tears at once and for the last time, and
taking SalIie from the ground, he smooth
ed back her yellow locks, coaxing her into
quiet with the solemn promise of his 10y
atty henceforth and forever to the love be-
tween them. He declared that the names
linked there upon the tree should never be
separated while life remained to him, and
with many a VOW Of fealty coined from the
books he had devoured among the lumber
in the garnet, and simple plants of love
brought up from the depths of his little
swelling heart, Will babe little Sally good
bye.
But alas for the memorable DEGREES of
fate and fashion! Seven long years had
passed and gone since that last trysting
time, and although the two names were
still linked together upon the old walnut
tree, the two little lovers had drifted far
apart.
Young Master Randall went from one
place of instruction to another till he
reached the satl2naotn1 borauno of veritable
college. Taking advantage Of the absence
of their son and heir, the big folks at the
hall went abroad; the house was closed,
and although many an apple and bunch of
grapes from the old place reached Sally,
with the rest of the villagers, she never
cared to taste these luxuries from stran ger
hands. viii spent his holidays away, and
Sally would not even have heard the sound
of his name had it not been for the sojourn
of Angelica Crane at boarding school
near the college. Perhaps Sally would
rather not have heard his name than thus
from the lips of Angelica, whose bump of
reverence was small, and who held the
young squire pretty much as she held
everybody-important in the ratio that
they contributed to her own pleasure.
The acres of Farmer Crane were broad
and wide, and outnumbered by many
score those that belonged to the Randall
family; it was whispered that even the
goodliest property of the old squire was
heavily mortgaged to the shrewd and: fore
handed countryman, and that a match be-
tween Miss Angelica and the young squire
would not be bad thing for the latter.
On the other hand, these plain folks at the
Crane homestead had spared no pains to
show their willingness to further whatever
plans were made for the joining of these
two goodly estates.
Angelica herself had confded to Sally
that she had more strings to her bow than
one, but that she knew which she pre-
ferred, and had often tortured the poor
little maiden, when during Angelica's
holidays they had spent night Or two to-
gether, by reading her, among other. love
letters, some productions from the elo-
quent and ardent pen of Will Randall,
poor little SalIy's perfdious lover. Long
after Angelica's curl papers had ceased to
rattle upon the pillow, the soft silken rings
of Sally's yellow hair were wet with tears
of envy and girlish despair.
But years went by. and old time soft
ened the bitterness of those holiday stabs
by dealing others of more vivid and
startling character; when cares and griefs
close at hand crowded about her and
hemmed her in, she became resigned to
this one among the rest, and even talked
with Angelica of her loves and lovers with
a GOODNESS that astonisheq herself. There
became a less and less grievous similarity
in the description of the young squire to
that shy, sweet memory Of Sally's of long
ago. He had now, it appeared, an Incl
pient moustache, his hands were white,
he was more and more perfectly splen-
did, with every fresh confidence; and this
brilliant figure left the old, simple, tender
likeness all to itself in Sally's young heart,
and it became dead and buried like all the
glad things of life, along with her father,
the schoolmaster, and the pale young
mother she could just remember; and as
she turned the ice-cream freezers that
night in the cellar of Farmer Crane, not
one thought of Jealous spite or envy of the
fair Angelica came into her little head.
She did listen to the music, and heard
the noise above, and it was ga sort of
nice,' as Mrs. Crane had said; and as she