Shenandoah herald. [volume] (Woodstock, Va.) 1865-1974, 1880-07-21
Barbara.
NYas there any mail, Eben 2

wlstfully down sthe shady street and
then up at the tossing elms, where the
busy birds were chattering. And sad
to relate frown of discomfort crept
over Barbara's low, while brow.
| No, there were no letters for The
Lelghtons,' said Eben, IN rather
savage mood. 4 made especial in
quiries for you,' and Eben's lower lip
trcmbled a little, and his voice softened
wonderfully for him. Il suppose you
arc anxious to get away from the old
place, Miss Barbara p
Yes, 1 am said Miss Leighton
sharply, with an imperial air. L am
sick Of it all. should be glad to go
anywhere away from here
Eben made no reply. He looked
down at the tangled curls. the soft,
wistiul brown eyes, tie dimpled hands
clasped over the mesh Of honeysuckles
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 griDped his
! heart au that moment Of what life
would be at the farm without Barbara.
| He had tried of late to live without
connecting her in any way with his
days and nights, his duties, his hard-
ships and his JOYS, but he had made
| sorry work of it. 1t gave Eben fright
| to know how much everything depended
on this proud, spoiled beauty, whose
dream now was 10 get away from such
as he-the common folks around
Larborough.
Barbara at eighteen had a great long
ing for that gay world of which she had
read in summer evenings when sitting
under the musky vines Of the farmhouse
porch, or when lying amid the COW
slips ID the meadow where, under a
| growing weight of care, Eben toiled
with great brown hands IN the capacity
of help to the Widow Leighton. Eben
was as much Ipart and parcel Of the
! place as the crumbling headstones in
the little graveyard on the hill, where
all the dead Lelghtons were lying. No
e one ever dreamed of bis going away,
although his merits were acknowledged,
and it was cheerfully admitted that the
boy had grown into strong, handsome
man. with shrewed capacities as a
6nancier and turn for machinery. a
great many at the village had dropped
: into the habit Of addressing HIM lately
as Mr.. Hexford, and E5en's muscles
commanded respect. lie had a little
snuggery in the barn he called his
workshop, where at odd hours and on
rainy days he tinkered with lathes and
pulleys and edged tools.
When bis farm work had been
tidied up and the COWS had been MIXED
and turned into the green woodlands
again, Eben shut himself up in work
shops and pottered over bis numerous
| inventions and thought of what great
1 possibilities might ..have been his ii he
b had been born something better than
8 Mr.. Leighton's farm hand. He realiz'
, ed sensibly that there were sull posi-
bililes for him out yonder beyond the
dark line of elms and frs which be
could see from his study window. But
his benefactor had died and left all the
tangled threads of his affairs for young
. Hexford 10 unraYel, and he could no
: have deserted Mrs, leighton and the
I, girls Barbara and TheO. 1t would moi
have been right or manly. Things
were going straight now' however; the
, farm was in a prosperous condition, ,and
:. even an Indifferent manager could have
kept the wheels moving which Eber
|
had fixed in their places. But Eber
/. remained on at the farm while the sea-
sons waxed and waned, and the girls
were elowing into fine, tall young wo-
= men. with restless yearnings for 0uslel
life than was to be had at Larborou2h
He had expected that girl so pretty
as Barbara would be some time leaVln!
so dull place, but he nevertheless iel
a wild, savage pain at bis heart whei
n he learned that letter had been sen
to q distant aunt 10 see If she would no
look after Barbara while she enjoyed
the advantages of finishing school 10
Young ladies. The longest summer
DAYS would fade into short summe
nights, and by-and-bye, when the iirS
yellow leaves would be dropping init
pools and hollows. Barbara would g
away-perLaps forever.
u Eben was too much ola man TO sigh
and too muscular 10 do without his sup
per, but he fell into the habit OF taklnI
long walks alone, or Of sitting unde
the honeysuckles on the porch where
, he could see the moon rise and wher
. he could hear the young ladies singin
rather plaintlve songs accompanied b
the cracked strains Of the old harp
slchord in the best room.
y. He had just plucked the first rounC
full rose of May, and, twirling
thoughtfully in his fingers as he strolle
down the garden path to his workshop
o. when he heard the breezy dutter Of
- muslin rope and light football benin
behind him on the gravel walk. Ii
N turned with blaze Of fire in bis blac
eyes and the rose extended. His han
~ dropped to his side. 1t was Theo VIII
'Se' came rapidly after him swinging awhi
ly sun-bonnet by one string.
'st Theo was saucy, petulant, proyok
nc inc Young persOni of sixteen, who's