The Northern Pacific farmer. [volume] (Wadena, Minn.) 1878-1885, 1879-11-06
AN OLD PLATE.

cried Mrs. Hunter. II would almost be
willing to bet that we shall find andirons
there. Please stop the horses, Mr.. Freke.
must go in"
Mr.. Freke obediently drew rein, and
the glossy bays arrested their trot before
the whitewashed gate, which hung, he
noticed, by a single hinge. The house,
shabby and defaced as it looked, was evi-
IDENTIFY no common farmstead. It had
been somebody's residence" once, and
still wore that look of better days gone-by
which, to the experience of brlc-a- brac
hunter, suggests cobwebbed cup-boards
and low-raftered garrets full of cherished
odds and ends. Mrs. Hunter tapped
smartly once or twice, then turned with
a laugh to Mr.. Freke, who, having tied
his horses, had followed up the walk.
ut is no use," she said: ''these coun-
try people never use the front rooms of
their houses. I shall go round to the
kitchen door. always try to make an
excuse for getting into the kitchen, and
this time we have legitimate one, as no.
body answers US here"
Soround the house she went, over weeds
and grass tussocks, and lows growing bri-
ers which caught at her silken skirts as
she passed, and knocked at the kitchen
door,wh was fastened only by heavy iron
iron latch. Once, twice; then boldly lifting
the latch, she went directly into the kitch-
en-a large square room, with windows
on two sides, and floor Of worn, uneven
boards, which sloped in unexpected rises
and descends, and made walking uncer-
tain pastime to unaccustomed feet. A
fireless stove occupied the deep chimney,
on one side of which stood wooden set
tie cushioned with faded calico. Rows of
milkpans tilted on their sides stood On
the window-sills; there was sink paint
ed red, table, two or three cane chairs,
and on the wall fy-speeked certificate
of membership IN the Bible Society bear
ing date many years back. Over these
articles Mrs. Hunters experienced eye
darted in a seconds space; then only
pausing to say in whisper, ''That's rath-
er nice settle, isn't 1t2S she walked rap
idly across the room to a cupboard, whose
half-open door showed CLEAN of crock
cry inside and presently exclaimed:
''There, didn't I tell you so, MIR. Freke?
Here is find! Do you see that large
plate on the upper shelf? Old burnt china
as am alive, of the finest kind, and a.
real beauty Who would ever have ex-
pected such thing in house like this?
All dusty, too; don't suppose they use
it, or care for it in the least. People of
this sort will never do. Well, I call this
luck
She had the plate in her hands by this
time, and was turning 1t over to examine
the marks on the bottem. It was rather
dish than plate, being large enough
almost to merit the Understanding
''plaque'' of the modern ;argon Its pat
tern of blue, pale crimson, black and
gold had grounding of blue so light as
to be almost white. A tiny heraldic
shield, inserted into the design on one
side, bore twisted monogram in faint
lines of black, blue and gold, and alto
gether, despite a crack and more than one
nick in its rim, the old plate was uncom-
mon enough to excuse Mrs. Hunters ex-
citement. Sire was still examining it..
regardless of dust or gloved fingers, when
clear young voice from tho doorway
uttered these words: II beg your par
don, but did you want auything9"
Mrs. Hunter jumped, Mr.. Freke jump
ed also. His ''feeling" tor china was
feeble; certainly it would never have led
him to enter a strangers house unbiddcn
and rifle its cupboards, and a sudden
sense OF guilt sent the blood rushing
furiously to his face. In the doorway
behind them stood a girl in bingham
dress, with white apron tied about a
very slender waist, and thick rolls OF
bright hazel hair twisted round a pretty
head, out of which looked pair Of grave
and astonished brown eyes. A remark
ably pretty girl, and a lady too; voice
and accent testified that, as we'll as the
gentle selt-possession with which she
now confronted these unlnvited guests.
Mrs. Hunter recovered first. Women
generally do on such occasions.
I beg your PARDON" she said, with her
pleasantest manner. eve knocked sew.