The Worthington advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1874-1908, 1880-12-30
A, NEW YEARS CALL.

Each sunrise sees New Year born!
A NEW YEARS CALI.
"M+xweltOn's braes are bonnie
Where early fa's the dew,
And twas there that Annie Laurie
Gave me her promise true,
Gave ne her promise true,
Which ne'er forgot will be.
And for bonnie Annie Laurie
I'd lay me down and dee"
1t was my favorite song. I looked M
from the desk where was writing as
the fresh, young voice rang loud and
clear on the summer air, and drawing
the window curtains little aside peeped
out at young girl in my neighbor's
garden.
A young girl as pretty, ss blooming,
as pdre- looking as the delicate white
roses-blushing family in unconscious
ness Of their beauty-that had stolen
from their own trellis to climb the grape.
arbor, by the side Of which, to pluck the
farest and sweetest, for moment she
singing stood.
Then Tor another moment or two she
fitted hlthcr and thithcr among the 9TH
er flowers, the SUN making gold of her
flowing hair, until some one called
"Milicent'' from the house, and trilling
the last line again sd lay me down and
dee" like meadow lark, she vanished
from my sight.
My ncighbor didn't know was his
neighbor, though I was perfectly aware
lie was 'ny neighbor.
will explain. The cottage in Apple
land of which I was occupying the second
floor, belonging to an old friend OF mine
who had gone abroad. Knowing that
was anxious to secure secluded country
home for month or two of the summer
so that might finish and revisc-well
no matter what, buta work, flatter my
self, of some Importance, he had kindly
offered me the use of the rooms as long
as chose to remain.
Entire seclusion was my object in 60
ing to my friends cottage, and that was
thoroughly understood by the old house.
keeper, who never made her appearance
except at meal time, and who had men
toned my arrival to no ooe in the neigh.
borhood.
After dark used to let myself out at
side gate efectuully screened from view
by group of grand old apple trees and
stroll about for an hour or two, and then
let myself in again without any one be
ing the wiser.
Not very difficult proceeding, how
er, must admit, as my neighbor's house
and my friends house were about half a
mile from the village on one side, with
about two miles of dense woodland on
the other.
They had originally been built for
twin sisters who, marrying, refused to be
utterly separated from each other, so only
low fence divided the front lawns and
back gardens.
My neighbor, as discovered by peep.
ing at him on sundry occasions, was an
elderly, stout gentleman, with keen, dark
eyes, shaggy eyebrows, decidedly ford
complexion, stubby nose, stubby beard,
stubby hands and a projecting chin and
upper lip. His household consisted of
his wife: motherly looking old lady as
! stout as himself, cook as stout as her
mistress, coachman and gardener as
stout as the cook, rough coated, awk-
ward dog, answering to the name of
"Bub," and shaggy pony called ''Sis.''
Well, here had been domiciled for
two weeks, writing away as for dear life
as totally lost to the world as though
had never existed, until the morning
when I heard the meadow lark singing
"Annle Laurie"
Who could she be? She didn't re-
semble my nelghbor or my neighbor's
wife in the least. l resolved to find out,
if possible, and so the next morning i
said, carelessly, to the old housekeeper,
when she brought up my toast and cof.
fee, ''Have the elderly couple next door
any chil1ren?''
mo, sir" was the reply, ''not a chick
or child, which I don't mean they haven't
chickens, sir, for they have, only as the
saying is. Never have had, and never
will have, suppose, at their time of lite,
unless by miracle, though they're awful
fond of 'em. Seems to me as tolks that
arc awful fond Of young ones never has
'em; p'r'aps that's the reason they're 50
fond of EN- not knowing what worry
and care they are falling into ponds, and
out of trees, and downstairs, and get.
! ting the cholera morl'us with eating un-
ripe fruit--'
"And the young lady," I interrupted,
dipping crust into my coffee and nod.
ding toward my ncighbors garden, "whom
heard singing yesterday was--'
"Their neicc, sir, and is to have all the
money when she comes of age if she
don't displease her uncle. You see, sir,
Miss Milicent's mother lived next door,
and her aunt, her mothers twin sister,
lived here. They were the lovingcst sis.
tiers you ever knew, and died within q
few days of each other. one leaving q
daughter. Miss Mile. and the other q
SOD, Mr.. Chester, and Mr.. Gardner, now
our neighbor, was their eldest brother
though he looked not more like them
than you DO, and he's the guardian, and
he's expected here on visit this very
day."
Icouldn't tell tor the life of me why
split my coffee on the snowy tablecloth
and choked myself with the last fragment
Of teast, but do, and the old woman
hastens to my side, and thumps me upor
the back with all the force Of which sht
is capable, and says reproachfully: my
good gracious, slr, you even turned quite
black in the facet Don't do it again, sir
for what dreadful thing 'twould be Il
have you dead in the house and every
] thing 10 mysterious, and me p'r'aps &C.