The Albany register. [volume] (Albany, Or.) 1868-18??, 1880-06-18
Barbara

Ana leaning over tHe lAtti0 "ANNOV
gate, Ier dark locks falling about her
IN pretty, careless tresses, Barbara
looked wistfully down the shady street
and then up to the tossing elms, where
the busy birds were chattering. And
sad to relate, a cloud of dIscontent
crept over Barbara's low, white brow.
"No, there were no letters for the
Leightons," said Eben, in rather saw
aye mood ssI made especial inquiries
for you,'' and Eben's lower lip trem-
bled a little and his voice sottened won-
derfully for him. "I suppose you are
anxious to get away from the old place,
Miss Barbara 90
"Yes, 1 am" said Miss Leighton,
sharply, with an imperial air. ''I am
rick of it ali. should be glad to go
anywhere away from here's
Eben made no reply. He looked
down at the tangled curls, the soft,
wistful brown eyes, the dimpled hands
clasped over the mesh of hcneysuck'es
then away over the tops of the
snowy balsams toward the great world
where Barbara's heart was. He was
thinking with one cruel pang which
gripped his heart at that moment of
what life would be at the farm with
out Barbara He had tried of late to
liYe without connecting her in any way
with his days and nights, his duties,
his hardships and his joys, but he had
made sorry work Of it. 1t gave Eben a
fright to know how much depended
on this proud, spoiled beauty, whose
dream now was to get away from such
as he-the common folks around Lar
borough.
Barbara at eighteen had great long
: ing for that gay world of which she
had read in summer evenings when sit
ting under the musky vines in the farm
house porch, or when lying amid the
cowslips in the meadow where, under
a growing weight ofcare, Eben toiled
with great brown hands in the c4pac-
ity OF help to the widow Leighton.
Eeben was as much part and parcel of
the place as the crumbling headstones
in the little graveyard on the hill,
where all the dead Leigbtons were "
ing. No one ever dreamed of his GO
ing away although his merits were
acknowledged, and il was oheerfuliy
admitted that the boy had grown up
to be handsome man, with shrewd
capacities as a financier, and turn for
machinery. A great many at the vii
lage bad dropped into the habit of ad
dressing him as Mr.. Hexford, and
Eben's muscles commanded respect
He had little snuggery in the barn he
called his workshop, where, at odd
hours and on rainy days, he tinkered
with Iathes and pulleys and edged tools.
When his farm work had been tidied
up and the cows had been milked and
turned into the green woodlands again,
Eben shut himself up IN bis workshop
and pottered over his numerous inven-
tions and thought of what great posi-
bilities might have been his il he had
been born something better than Mr.
Leighton's farm hand He realized
sensibIy that there were sti II possibilitie
for him out yonder beyond the long
dark line of elms and frs which he
could see from his study window
But his benefactor had died and Ieft all
the tangled threads OF his affairs for
youTg Hextord to unravel, and he
could not desert Mrs. Leighton and the
girls-Barbara and Theo. It would
not have been right or manly. Things
were going straight now, however, the
farm was in prosperous condition, and
even an Indifferent manager could have
kept the wheels moving which Eben
had fixed in their places. But Eben
remained on the farm while the season
waxed and waned, and the girls were
growing into fine, tall young women,
with restless yearnings for q buster life
than was to be had az Larborough.
lie had expected that girl so pretty
rs Barbara would be some time leave.
ing 50 dnll place. but he nevertheless
felt wild, savage pain at his heart,
when he learned that letter had been
sent TO distant aunt to see If she
would not look after Barbara while she
enjoyed the advantages of finishing
echool for young lsdies. The longest
GUNNER days would fade into short
summer nights, and by and by. when
she first yellow leaves would be drop.