The Wellington enterprise. [volume] (Wellington, Ohio) 1867-188?, 1880-08-26


, s"Was you ever in her house?" asked
Stephen, pointing over his shoulder
with his whip. s -.f cg
"Oh! yes" I answered eagerly.
"She's one of my very dearest friends. :"
"Oh, no! didn't know that Sorter
queer, amt she?"
: Nothing more was needed to draw
me out. My shyness vanished, and the
praises of Mrs. Weeks were only inter-
rupted by our arrival at our front gate.
mex time you come, I'll show you
the barn. Good-byt" And Stephen
My fear of meeting Mrs. Witheridge
again was considerably soothed by
Stephens parting promise. He was as
good as his word. That wonderful
barn! 1t stood opposite Deacon With
eridge's house, thereby cutting it off
from a glorious sweep of hills. Yet it
may have been as well for Stephen and
me to enjoy the landscape at the rear
door of the barn as for Mrs. Deacon
Witheridge to close her front-parlor
blinds upon it all her married life.
! Here, at any rate, Stephen and /
found plenty to. talk about. My heart
was won at once by the patience and
good-uature with which he answered my
endless u,estions. followed him
about as he worked. till a shrilI voice
called from the honse. .Your milk il
waitin, for Won. You musn't he binderin'
Stephen"
Stephen stoutly maintained that was
no hinderance; and many a time after
that heightened my call till late in the
"Waysr mind Maria ~ said mvorand-
mother s;f she does stav a cood while
She can't come to auy harm up at Dea-
con Witheridge's." =
Stephen and L had many talks to-
gether. and had become very good
friends before our Conversation took a
personal turn.
"Why don't YOU 90 to school?''
asked. one day. -s-..' q. S'-l-'
AZ can't" he answered, and went on
shoveling. 4st..1 ,s';cy .-Gsr,
"Why notp Won't your father and
mother let you?', persisted
1 come out Of the poor-house."
1 instantly saw my mistake; but 1
than "Ohr'
Il amt goin' to die there. though; ;
not H can help il" he continued,
shoveling with desperate energy.
"Are you going to get rich?s' But 1
stopped suddenly. .9Why, Stephen,
what's the matter? Your face is all
white" cried
He leaned heavily on his shovel and
put his hand to his forehead.
"rm all right now. l guess put in
little too hard" He went on work
ing; but lifted his shovel slowly and
heavily, bending all the strength of his
slight frame 10 the task. Suddenly,
who should emerge from behind q
patch of corn but Deacon Witheridge
himself.
"Wal, sir! Smart kind of working
I call this. Why, feller like you dom {
earn his salt"
Stephen answered nothing; but made
q weary effort to shovel faster. The
Deacon frightened me, and 1 did not
dare to STAY longer. Sss p ;-.- .
When reached home I went straight
to my mother. = = = -
.. .Mamnia," 1 burst out, "didn't
Stephen ever have any father or
motfer?pC pEa 1.Jr-SLI = 80 =,
"Stephen? Stephen?.,l Oh! yes.
Deacon Witheridge,s bow. Poor fel-
loHi When he WAS a little bit of a
DAOV. DEAR tn6V found 0lm on the DOOr-
house steps. They took him in and
kept him tin Deacon Witheridee want
ed a boy to bring up. am afraid the
little fellow has had rather q hard
time.n she added, half to he rself.
could think of nothing that after.
noon but Stephens story. NY nowl-
edge of the world was entirely obtained
from Sunday-school books. IL hap
filled with an entrancing tale, whose
plot I distinctly remember. The hero
was a founding, whose elaborately.
embroidered clothing gave no clue to
his origin. He fell into the hands OF
monsters in human shape, from whom
he suffered untold persecutions. The
heroism of the early martyrs was moth.
inc compared with the lofty endur.
ance of this Young saint At last his
so-called parents fall into deep disgrace,
and in the midst of the GRAND catas
tronhe our hero is discovered to be the
son of a neiohborinu Duke. from who,f
palace ne had been Stolen by a revenge
ful nurse. Now. as I reyolyed this talt
in INV mind / was struck with the
marked resemblance between the for.
tunes of its hero and of mine. Nj,
| imagination seized the meager facts O
Stephens story and woye them into 8
romance, whose reality did not for s
moment doubt. Some day. I fell as
sured. a fine carriage would draw ur
before Deacon Witheridpe's front-dool
| and a beautiful lady, in black velvet
dress (that was one of the points in
sisted upon), should alight and claim
my hero as her long-lost SON. had NJ
very definite idea where this lad,
| would come from, or what would aft
erward become of her; but her suddet
appearance seemed a necessary dra
matte situation dwelt, with a deligh
which sayored Of the malicious, on tn,
| astouishment and chagrin of Deaoos
covered that Stephen was a amillionaire
IL suited the purpose of NV story I.
paint this worthy couple in the bIackes
colurs. Hard. unsympathetic and erasp
inu- thew certainly were: but ann ola,
that they are to this day serenely un
II