The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1880-02-10

the door, and leaning her golden head against
it, have burst out crying like frightened
child, ii is hard tc say. Perhaps, however,
it does not often occur to a young lady to
send two lovers to the right-about in the
course of the same summers evening
can doobt will meier see ither ane O.
them again." she sobbed; 'but indeed, |
dinna care eff don't for him."
OF which was she thinking at the minute?
There was little stir OF talk and gossip
among some of the worthy folk of Alrmouth
on the following morning Good wives put
their heads together and little inquisitive
girls thrust theirs in to listen, and got them
well thwacked for so doing; and boat that
was to have gone out with the mornings
light lay hauled up high and dry Oh The
beach, with no owner near to launch il :
while little knot OF people, composed of at
least three old cronies, boy aud a hump
backed sailor who spent most of his time
loafing round the public house, stood in the
centre of the stee!, rough little High street,
discussing some event OF the previous night
with an eagerness which allowed snndTy
scraps of sentences, such as Murder, no
else;'' "An awful ficht;'' ''They say he
Gamma recuver," to res oh the curious ears of
some of the numerous. bare-legged. sandy
haired children gambolling round about.
Annice Ladlaw, coming up the stree; on all
errand for her grandmother, NJ ticed that
TWO or three of these stopped in their play
to stare and point at her, and one, a red
headed little maid of six, pulled an elder
sisters arm and cried:
There she goes herself. Isn't she
wicked?'
Poor Annice half stopped and stared. 1t
did not seem possible that the words could
be meant for her; but the child was looking
directly up in her face, and the sister looked
too, and gggled. She was just going to ask
them what they meant, when bigger girl,
whom she knew, and who was a sort of rival
belle among the fishing community Of Ain
mouth, came down the street and called her
''Eh, Annice, who'd ha' thocht to see ye
DOT this moInin'P'
can why no, Sarah Rigg?" demanded
Annice.
800, eff We dinna ken yerseP why there's
no use in askin'. But eff Id been the deith
o. my luver | know / couldna ha' Haunted
myself i the toon street the day after his
deid body had been tux DOT OF .
Annce turned as white as thistledown,
and clutched the other girls arm in her
little brown hands.
Sarah Rigg, what do ye mean?" she
stammered fiercely. WHO is deid. an what
is it a. we are talkin' aboot?'
/. "Whos deid! Who but your luver, John
Garth, fighting wi big Andy Robson at the
inn; butseh,ye ken weel eneuch ABBOTT it and
MAR beside if what folks say be true"
"Folks! What do folks say?' asked An
nice bankly. But John-John dead!"
she gasped out, forgetting all the rest. oh!
Sarah, Sarah, it Gamma be true"
"Weel. We ken best of coorse," replied her
tormentor, calmly; San as for folks, they
only say what Andy Robson did-that ye'd
tuik up VII gentleman from Loodon, an
for 10 \, Inv
lass. I've seen him foolin' roun' yer granny's
myself; and Andy said he saw him coortin'
VII we at the back O the hose, and watched
him later go in to We i the doosk whin your
granny were DOT. He was just chatfin ABBOTT it
VII few fren's at the Dudes Arms whin
John Garth came in an'-but there, yell be
weel acquented VII the whole tale already,
an canna stan haverin' here longer"
"Ye'll stand here till We have tauld me all
about it," cried Annice passionately, her
pretty face all blanched and quivering still
mot ABBOTT me, that is cruel lee, but never
mind it; tell me ABBOTT John, for PHYS sake,
Sarah, an leave the rest"
"John? Why, he stud minute behint
them. an then he GOT and caught Andy by
the thrawt, an says he, otis lee, We cooard,
every word; an daur We t, say it again,
or aught else agen' a maid O. yer ain tounp
an WI that he gave him one heft an sent
him sprawlin' on the flure. Andy was oop
in minute an wrestled wi i'm; an then
the lads came round to PART them, but it
was just too late, for whether Andy threw
John again the StOun wa or no Gamma say,
but he just dropped like log; and they tell
me he's meier spoke word sence, an his
puir mothers fairly brOken-hairted. Ye
ken weel the store she set by him; butch,
Annice! wherever's the lass runnin' noo?'
For Annice had suddenly released her COM
panion's arm, and darted off up the street.
She knew it all row, or thought she did,
and was speeding in the direction of til.
Garth's house, a low, gray stone, red-tiled
cottage, like ali the rest but built at one ex-
tremty of the town, ana looking across the
links to where Coquet Island with it's white
lighthouse gilt cred in the sunshine. She
could not believe John was dead, and dead
fighting for her good name. She must go to
him, see him, tell him he was right all aloug,
and that she cared tor him and him only
aye, even if his mother cursed her. Oh!
surely heaven would be piliful and let him
hear her. And so she few on, up the rough,
narrow lane which led to the cottage; her
light feet tripping and stumbling among the
stones; the big tears running unheeded over
her cheeks, and falling on to the tiuttering
ends OF her white kerchief; her breath COM
ing and going in quick grAsping sobs; until
one arm bandage1 against his chest, and
who was coming down The lane as if to meet
her. He put tut his sound arm, fortunate
ly the right one, and caush int her JUS in time,
his face full of wonder and apprehension.
why Annice-Annce ssie! WHAT'S to
do wi yc? Child, for Gods sake dinna tax
on that way
For it was John Garth himself; his sun
burned, rugged face rather pale, but other
wise much the same as usual; and she had
flung both her soft arms round him, and was
clinging to him like babe to its mother,
trembling from head to foot, and crying SO
bitterly she could hardly articuiate.
''Eh, John, John, they tauld me ye were
deid Deid, an Guild ma see ye any more;
an moo l see yere sair hairrt, an OH, oh, oh,
it's a my fault. But l did care for ye
John, did, an only took ae walk VII
him because was angeret VII you for scoId-
in me; an then l slnt him AVA. | tnocht
We too nasterful, an I was prood; but oh,
John, john. eff ye'lf only take me back the
moo, an let Inc COON t we when ye will pll
De sac guide, an pll never yex you or the
mither any more; dr. I'll wairrk, aye, NIGHT
an day for We both till your puir ARMS
well, ef ye can o'ny forgive me, john"
''Forgivs We, lassier' said John. He was
holding her very tight, her golden head hid
den on his breast above the broken limb,
and there was wonderful light and sweet
ness in the fshermans hard, honest face
"My ain wee sweetheart, eff l had no Arms
left dye no theenk my HART wud be srrons
eneuch to hauld ye in it again the whole
wairld? Aye, lass, even eff We had naught to
give me in retairn. Coon in an dry your
eyes, Annice. Twas ill O. folk to FRIGHT my
sma' sweet WHEY VII sic a foolish matter.
Why, even the mither'll tell ye twill be a