The true northerner. [volume] (Paw Paw, Mich.) 1855-1920, 1876-07-28

ub lltdft WIFI EVERY bufu VI tio iOtoeio
iii her precious name. Tears rolled out
OF his eyes in spite of his manly enoeav-
or to choke them down; as for Sally, she
had given way long ago, and, with her
sunbonnet tight down over her face, was
watering 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 west
ern sky shone full upon each and all.
Will put his knife back in his pocket
with a click of determination, gulped
back his tears ut once and for the last
time. and. taking Sally from the ground,
he smoothed back her yellow locks,
coaxipg her into quiet with the solemn
promise of his loyalty henceforth and
| forever to the love between 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 lum-
Der in the garrett, and simple plants of
| love brought up from the depths of his
little, swelling heart, Will babe little
Sally good-by.
| 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 wal
nut tree, the two little lovers had drifted
far apart.
Young Master Randall went from one
place of instruction to another till he
reached the sunanpuna bon,tn1 of a veri-
table 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 vii
layers, she never cared to taste these
Injuries from stranger hands. Will
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 a
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
forehanded countryman, and that a
match Between Miss Angelica and the
young Squire would not be bad thing
for the latter On the other hand, these
plain folks Mt the Crane homestead had
spared no pains to show their willing
ness 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
preferred, and had often tortured the
poor little maiden, when during Angeli-
cas- holidays they had spent night or
two together, by reading her, among
other love letters, some productions
from the eloquent and ardent pen of
Will Randall, poor little Sally's perfd-
ious lever. 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 as years went by, and old time
softened the bitterness of those holiday
stabs by dealing others of q 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 GOODNESS that astonished
herself. There became a less and less
grievous similarity in the description of
the young Squire to that shy, sweet mem
DRY of Sally's of long ago. He had now,
it appeared, an incipient mustache, his
hands were white, he was more and more !
perfectly splendid with every fresh
confidence; and this brilliant figure left |
the old simple, tender likeness all to it
self in Sally's yonng heart, and it became
dead ana buried like all the glad things |
of life, along with her father, the school
master, and the pale young mother she
could just remember; and as she turned |
the ice-cream freezers that night III the |
cellar of Farmer Crane, not one thought !
of jealous spite or envy of the fair An
gelica came into her little head.
She did listen to the music, and heard |
the noise above. and it was &C. sort of |
NICE" as Mrs. Crane had said and as
she turned and turned one freezer after
another, Sally became interested enough |
in her work to forget more important |
trials close at hand.
1t made the soul of the farmers wife
glad within her, when she went down to
taste the cream, to find it beginning to
be all that her fancy painted.
cts prime" she said, smacking her
lips and holding the spoon to Sally's
pretty mouth. "Jest taste it, and tell
me if that amt fur ahead of Towers
stuff in town. 1t stands to reason,
Sally; there's real cream in that ar
none yer nasty skimmin's ! Now keep
right on, dear be jest as keerful as you
kin, cause now's the resky time when
the hull thing kin be spilled by mite
O. keerlessness. just turn and turn,
dear, first one, then t'other, this away,
and that away. The idee of that pesky
da'tor o'mine tellin' me only q mint ago
she knowed it'd be lumpy and soft
And, Sally, she's the most unfeelin' -