The Bossier banner. [volume] (Bellevue, Bossier Parish, La.) 1859-1952, 1880-03-11
hap, with a pleasant word for every

chap. with pleasant word for every
one." .
/" You remember him?"
eyes, we'll never thought very i'll
of him, myself. A hasty word, "a blow,
these come over-quickly when the blood
is young" ~
s'Do you think / am like him?'' The
speaker drew himself up, and stood look
ing with something almost like anxiety
into Farmer Stisted's red, comely face.
"When knew him." he added, tive
used to be often thought to resemble one
another
al can not see it myself, SIR" said
Mr.. Sisted, slowly; /" but then, sir, beg
ging your pardon, it is not easy to draw
comparisons between the young and the
DID,
The man addressed unfolded his arms,
and leant once more against the stile,
heaving quick impatient sigh as he did
so. alt is fortunate, is it not, Mr..
Sisted, that hearts do not alter as quick
ly as faces do?''
"Nay, sir, I can not see as you're right
there. Hearts grow older along with
the faces they belong to, else husbands
and wives would not get along as well
as they do. AS we grow older ourselves,
we do not miss the youth in the face OPP
posite; leastways, / don't in Maggie's,"
said the farmer, simply.
Perhaps that is because you see the
youth still there; you remember it, you
see. But if you had grown old far
apart, it would perhaps have been diff
ferent."
"Maybe," replied Mr.. Sisted, doubt
fully, apparently a little out of his
depths. ssBut come, it is time was
back at the farm. Perhaps you would
like bit of breakfast with us, sirp
There'll be but little doing in the village
yet awhile, and my wife will be glad to
see you.'''
The stranger accepted the proffered
hospitality, and he and the farmer
turned away together.
Maggie proved quite as hospitable as
her husband had predicted, and when
breakfast had been partaken of, and
still, talking Is sw gRae 1ss % MS WORK *,
CARED Sisted.
He had half mind to ask her about
this village tragedy that was occupying
his mind this morning; but "betteI
not" he decided, SHELTER wait now !,
And he had waited so long, that a little
longer could not make much difference,
So he just dawdled on about the farm
and the pleasant farm-garden long
enough for the days work to be well in
hand, and then he wished his hostess
Goodbye" and with quick, impatient
steps took his way to the village. 49,.
Once there, he walked straight to the
footpath across the meadows that led up
from Bythorpe Village to Bythorpe Man
Or; but at the entrance gate he paused.
and gazed with tender ewes at the little
house on the opposite of the road, that
exactly faced him-the little creeper-
covered cottage where the Doctors
widow lived. ...r.-
He even made one half-step toward if
put No." he murmured, "she comes
first: We will go there together But
still ne fingered, as if longing to pierce
the mystery of those drawn blinds; and
even as he thus paused there was the
sound OF horses feet, and there came in
view, down the narrow street, carriage
drawn by two fine chestnuts.
Before it the village children fell
hastily back, and, standing on one side.
gazed with mingled awe and admira-
ton. And assuredly it was sight to
call forth admiration, for everv thinp
seemed so perfect; the carriage itself.
the prancing horses, the fair-haired girl.
SO like the young, lovely mother by
whose side she sat, the two little golden
headed children opposite: There was
surely no fault to be found anywhere.
Only, to wayfarer standing by the
roadside gazing at them, the sun seemed
OF a sudden to be darkened in heaven.
The earth to have lost the beauty of a
morn. r
Helen!' he cried, in tones of an.
gulsh wrung from breaking heart. but
she did not hear.
She saw him, of course. for she was |
ooklng at him, wondering, maybe, who
his stranger was in familiar little Bv.r
horpe. But that was all.
The dust from the CARRIAGE wbee1s
made thick the air for a moment. and
'''
VINO Is IL! ne questioned, when he
ould command his voice, turning to a
1llager standing by his side.
Yon lady? Lady Edmeade. She's
ON TO Lunnon. She was daughter of
ne old Squirrels, 3" he added, "and mar
led Sir Wilfred Edmeade.''
Has she been married longPn
LET us see,now. Twill be fourteen
ears come August, for it was the same
ay, mind well, as my youngest was
orn. Eth, but she has bonnie chill
ren," he murmured as he turned away. $
And Robert Sutton found himself
lone in the bright early sun, scarcely ,
'ur hours since be saw it rise for what /
as to have been the happiest day of 8
IS life, and already the end had come. |
he waited thus, reviewing this ending +
his romance, for few seconds: think. +
e OF the sunny-haired, broken hearted q
H. who had chung to him those long. a
ng years ago, the tears streaming down a
Or cheeks. !;
hi |