The Bossier banner. [volume] (Bellevue, Bossier Parish, La.) 1859-1952, 1878-04-04
g No more?" repeated old Ware, va

cantly.
f" She died last night,'' answers Re-
becca, and her lip tremhles little.
There is no reply. Rebecca does not
break the long, long pause. She is used
to the old mans moods. Finally, she
sets her face to the road again; it is get
ting late.
g Rebecca,'' says the old mar, abrupt
ly, placing his bony hand upon hers,
Rebecca, you-you needn't put her in
Potter's Field. She mightn't rest easy,
You know"
81 have no such superstitions,
FRIEND" said Rebecca, smiling sweetly.
''It can make very little difference to
her now where she,rests, poor nameless
wanderer.''
She had name once,n said Tim
othy, standing erect, with strange
flush on his face. "A bright and beau
tiful woman once was my wife, Eliza
Zeth Ware. -
A long and weary winter has passed;
summer has frightened and faded :
the autumn twilight is settling softly on
bloom and barrenness, as old Ware
stands at his gate once more, looking
down the road. In his hand is some
thing wrapped in white, which he sets
| upon the gate-post as q gray-clad grace
full figure comes walking up the road.
Rebecca,' he says, 81 return your
Napkin
'Nay," says Rebecca, recognizing her
own initials" nay, friend, have an
ABUNDANCE
"Open it," interrupts the old man,
abruptly. The gentle Quakeress is used
to humoring his moods, and as she un-
ties the linen, diamond ring rolls gilt
tering out upon its edge. There is box
of shining trlnkets within and small
gold watch
r They were all hers once, in the old
times,' says old Ware, huskily, "before
she left me. You may keep 'em for her
sake, an We will" He pauses; there is
no answering movement from Rebecca.
''Or," he adds, with irritation and sud
den energy, "I'll just heave 'em over
board when quit here for good and all.
Yes, I'll quit here for good and all
never had no home nor no friends-she
spoiled all that-and I may as well in-
ish it out that away
Rebecca clears her throat. alt has
long been borne in upon me, Friend
| Timothy" she says, in q high, con
| strained voice, as one who delivers Il
difficult message it has long been
borne in upon my mind that thee is liv-
ing too much alone. There is none to
look after thee, or fix thee up bit com
Portable for the winters and | have had
a clear leading from the Lord which
have suffered hitherto to be hidden in
my heart-it is that | should offer thee
home with me, Neighbor Timothy, if SO
be it seems good in thy sight"
"a homep' said Timothy. looking up
queryingly at his weather-beaten old
mansion.
As how, Rebeccap There was
a group of small boys hidden just
below the hedge, in the opening where
the great apple-rree dropped its fruitage
on either side of the rails. Tom and
Jim and Dick were there, bare-legged,
and sly as weasels. Of course the APP
Piles belonged to them on that side OF
the fence; but then night was the safest
| time for getting them. There was no
withstanding the logic of old Wares
dog by any argument of justice and fair
play. The twilight had quite faded
now, pale moon shone in the heavens,
and there at the gate stood Rebecca,
with her hand in Timothy's.
"Whist, fellows! whist! We needn't
to rum" cries Tom. !" She's goin' to
have him for her ole man. Bully for
her! She'U never set the dawg onto
feiler.'
And with full pockets and beating
hearts the youngsters file off past old
Wares very gate. Tom gives a loud
whistle when the feat is achieved, and
stands a moment looking back with an
eye of approval. 81 knew il all along
back" says Tom, oracularly--" course
| did; didn't see ole Tinware looking
down that ERE road time an agin arter
here Why, she could sweeten crab
apple, she could"
And think that she did, for the BOYS
of the village had grand dinner one
day, at which Mr. Ware and his Quaker
bride walked down among them, snil-
ing right and left, and Tom and Dick
nodded knowingly to each other and
said, 81 told you SO. - Haaper's Weeklg.
GENTLEMEN of the jury said
Tnscarora lawyer, 60 what kind of
swearing has been done in this casep
Here we have q physician, man who,
from his high and noble calling, shoald
be regarded as one who would scorn to
stain his soul with perjury, or be guilty
OF giving utterancc to an untruth. But
what has he testified, gentlemen | put
the question plainly, as you all heard
Where was this man stabbedp' And
what was his replyp Unblushingly, his