The Lambertville record. [volume] (Lambertville, N.J.) 1872-1968, 1879-12-03
MISCELLANY.
III .TaE DAIsrs RBoPHEoy

Rich man, poor man, beggar-mans thiei,
doctor. iawyer-there JULIA my fate Is at last
decided. Three times the daisy has said am
to marry lawyer SO let me hear no more
about Luke Harewell's well-stocked farm or
the Significance of Squire Days Chances into
our pewsat church !" and Kate Morrison
looked up into her elder sisters face and
laughed merriiy. Julia's annoyed expression
was very amusing to her.
You are so foolish, Kate" said Mrs. Bert
ram IN, a tone of vexation. Nota day pass
es that you do not get some new freak into
your head and you are as persistent and
stubborn 10 clinging to it as-as-"
mule, said Kate, as her sister hesitat-
ed Tor comparison. Don't be afraid OF
hurting my feelings, Julia you know | am
hardened by seedlings, and willing to confess
that do cling to an idea with tolerable firm
ness. but always did believe 10 telling for
tunes oy the June daisies and am morally
certain that shall marry lawyer shall
wait ior MN II am as gray as badger when
ne comes along" aud again Kate laughed,
tossing her long curis with determined mo-
zion OF her small head.
DON'T know where you ever obtained
such notions, kate,' said Julia, whose fair
brow was still drawn with its vexed express
sion. am sure mother mas taken the same
pains IN your bringing up rs she did in mine,
and tried to instii into your mind correct ideas
of woman's duty. And yet, here you are
twenty-three unmarried and unsettled. Why,
/ was engaged to Charles when was only
nineteen and married at twenty" e
But then you had such good offer, Julia.
| There are not many men like Charles
The wife's face wore serene expression
again as her sister paid this tribute to the
manly excellence of the absent husband.
"But you seem SO hard to SUIT, Kate" she
argued am sure Luke Hartwell is a very
fine young man do be little civil to him /;
and there's Squire Day, who is as rich as
prince and owns the finest span of horses in
the county"
wouldn't marry man for the sake Of
his horses, " said Kate, setting her lips firmly
together.
But you would learn to love him for him
self after time, Kate
I'm afraid 1t would be very long time,
Julia. The old scarecrow wears false teeth,
red wig, and has six cross red-headed, unin-
teresting children. know couldn't do my
duty to them"
But suppose mother should die, Kate p
Luke Hartwell will have the farm at once,
and you win De lett pcnuncss.
VIII teacn the district scnooi when that
happens, SAID Kate cheeriiy. Ihe squire
Is one OF the trusCees' ana ne would see tnat
got II II was just the least Dit pleasant to
him..
very well, SAID Juiia, now really nusheu
with anger. 20 your own way. Inc doc
tor said last week that mother was oreasing
up very iast indeed, ana you VIII ieei sorry
for your oostlnacy wben you see Luxe hart
well In possession OF TINS place"
On, my lawyer VIII come along oetore
that evli DAY comes, SAID Kate. IL Is OF
no use TO croak yourself hoarse, Jniia' Inc
daisy has spoken, and l have faith In its
prophecy. felt sure was not doomed 10
be the wife OF Luke Hartweil or the second
Mrs. Day
The sisters had now crossed the meadow,
| 1890 Wv ~."S-~ >-'-''S ~~>- oSS.- -SS~'- -
Kate, and were within the sweet old garden
of Bower Farm. Julia went at once into the
house, but Kate stood under an Old, gnarled
apple tree, and looked around her. Was this
dear old place with its wealth OF fruit and
flowers to pass away from them, and become
the property OF Luke Hartweli IL seemed
hard that at the mothers death it should not
become the property OF her daughters. The
cottage was half smothered in creeping roses,
white and red, sweet honeysuckle and passion
flowers. Three old oak trees mounted guard
in front, and at the back stretched out the old
orchard, in which Julia and Kate had played
in childhood. The commodious barn, the airy
stable and the grass-grown farnyard were all
dear to Rates heart from long association
with her life. The farm had belonged to Mr..
Andrew Hartwell, an uncle of Lnke's. He
had loved Mary Penrose, but she had given
her heart and hand to Arthur Morrison, who
had led her sad life for twelve years and,
dying, left her penniless. Andrew Hartwell