The Wellington enterprise. [volume] (Wellington, Ohio) 1867-188?, 1879-10-02

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showed the small round table laid for
two and almost lost in the great room,
which, however, with its open fire and
the soft light of the student-lamp held
its own cheer.
Miss Ruth, she's at her old wavs,"
Linda said, as she went presently into
the kitchen. 1Pve been a-wonderin'
what she'd find to take up, but she's
got her hands full now."
"No good won't come of it." George
answered discontentedly, as Linda end
ed her summary of what she had been
able to CLEAN from the conversation.
Longs it's beggars and riff-raff you
don't so much care; but this is Just a
lettin' herself down TO low people that
won't know but what she's always done
it. I'd speak to Miss Dysart. Miss
Ruth don't see-"
Its past any time for speakin',"
Linda groaned, as she rubbed off the
waffie-iron. "It's all cut and dried.
Laws! was sure there wouldn't be no
mussin' here, but it's begun. an Miss
Dysart she'll be spendin' all her money
sure's you're born"
George shook his head, and continued
to shake it as he moved about, but the
opposition from the kitchen did not
reach the parlor.
Ruth devoted the evening to looking
over a vast collection of photographs
and stereoscopic views, and to assort-
ing them in carefully numbered and
marked piles, while Aunt Mercy made
various changes in the contents of an
old fashioned bookcase in the corner
of the dining-room. The south parlor,
where they always sat in winter, had
two deep recesses each filled with books,
Ruth's special favorites being in her
own room overhead. In fact every
room they inhabited became the library
temporarily, for Ruth and Aunt Mercy
had a fashion of looking up any ques-
ton that interested them, and bringing
to bear every encyclopedia or reference
book which could throw the slightest
light upon it, and their library was not
only well-filled with standard and gen.
eral literature, but had a range of au-
thorities seldom found outside the walls
of professed students armory. The
temptation had been strong to lose her.
self in this society and forget human
claims, and Aunt Mercy, who had
mourned a little that this remote vii
lage must swallow up her child just
when most eager and most ready for
work, smiled as she saw her absorption,
and child herself for forgetting that
something always waited the ready
hand.
Sam Sherburne walking moodily out
of the tavern, smelling of very strong
tobacco and with heavy eyes and pale
checks, was surprised and disconnected
as, the next afternoon, Ruth met him
and held out her hand.
ssVo aro rpino ho San,a ~ Sh 10
said. "Let us walk together, Sam"
then Strengthened himself and furtively
brushed off some lint sticking to his
coat. He had often in the summer
taught her how to manage the oars;
and had looked on with pride in his
pupil when her own light boat she had
branch back Of the old house. He
tea, but since fall~this had not hap
pened. He knew she must have heard
of his wildness, and dsupposed she would
not care to speak to him.
Sam was one of the New England
boys who had no overmastering long
ing for a college education, who had
never taken very kindly to his books
and who was merely a healthy. fun
loving fellow, with some common
sense, rather rudimentary as yet, and a
great longing to .'see the world;"
meaning by this either going out to a
clerkship in some narrow store, or pos
sibly getting on one of the lake boats.
But he was the only boy left; the farm
waited for him, and was one of the best
IN, fha pansoh
could not understand why the steady
round of work was not satisfying.
A deacon in the Congregational
Church, and with sheaf OF doctrines
handed down from his father and des-
tined in turn for Sam, who would never
listen three minutes TO their expound-
ing, the good man shook his head sor-
rowfully and added one or two more
clauses to his daily prayers. The
mother and he sat contentedly by the
little stove in the sitting-room. She
darned and patched and turned, with
the lifelong habit of saving as strong
now when its need was past as in the
early days. They took the county pa
per, and had few books bought from
persistent book agents, but there was
no sense of brightness or cheer in the
narrow quarters, and Sam shot out
after tea and could never be found till
bedtime. Even the dingy kitchens of
the Canadians were better than his
home, for there at least was Jest and
laughter, or a dance suddenly impro-
vised if Baptiste appeared with his
fiddle. This was bad enough. the
father thought, but when Sam was
discovered playing cards with the
Brown boys in the barn boundless in
Isdignation had its way. Sam was
thrashed and ordered not to go near
them, and the cards went into the
kitchen fire.
The natural result followed. Out
wardly submissive but inwardly rebel
lious the boys had their way, and now
| at eighteen Sam seemed suddenly to
have gone to the bad altogether; re-
| fused to enter the church and, it was
reported, had been seen drunk in the
streets of the county town. The Brown
boys ran a saw-mill at the foot of the
hill, but their father did most of the
| work and sighed dolorously if anyone
asked why he did not keep them there.
Ruth looked at the lad as she walked
a tall, sturdy fellow with honest blue
eyes but a weak, uncertain mouth and
chin. As she talked he gained conf
dence and answered with something OF
his old freedom; full, CHEEKY voice
with very little of the nasal quality Al
which Ruth still WINGED.
AZ wanted to see you, Sam," she
said presently, "for 1 want to tall
over something with you and think
/; you can help me. Will you come tc
our house to-night?'
Sam hesitated and celored.
~ don't know about tonight, Mis-!
Ruth. promised Harvey Brown to g
up to the line with him."
els it special businessP"
"No-o, not so very"
''Then bring Harvey and John, too, '
said Ruth. ~ want all three of you
Will youP'
"Yes, ma am," said Sam, confound
i 4 i.