Gloucester County Democrat. (Woodbury, N.J.) 1878-1932, 1880-12-30
ton Of a few books upon the table and


the little work-basket which once be-
longed to her mother, she stood beside
the window and looked out upon the
soft green fields stretching on everv side
of the old farmhouse, the shady road
which led down toward the village, the
grand old elms and naples clustering
about the yard and lining the road as
far as her eyes could follow it.
The house faced a fork in the road,
and stood between the two branches -
one, the old Albanyroad, famous during
Revolutionary times. and the other lively
with the teams and light wagons going
to and coming from Lake Oscawana,
some miles above the village Of P,
where our story is located.
The summer breezes we're laden with
wild-fower fragrance and tbs sweet
breath of the wild herbs and forest pine,
and the summer sunshine fiickered mer-
rily on the green lawn beneath the
stately trees, which held their heads as
proudly as though the weight of hun.
dred years or more were not upon
them. And the little red. bushy-tailed
chipmunks frolicked and chattered in
the boughs of venerable willow which
clung to life tenaciously, notwithstand-
ing that age had stolen the sap from
one-half of its noble old trunk. That
willow had history, and it seemed
well aware of its Importance.
1t was the only tree on Farmer Jones'
place that could boast of having been a
riding whip in the hands of an Ameri-
can officer during the Revolutionary
war.
The riding whip stuck carelessly in
the soft earth when the soldier dis
mounted for refreshment at the tavern
which was this very old farmhouse
put forth, strangely enough, tiny shoots
and roots, and grew into strength and
beauty, and saw the traces of war and
bloodshed disappear, and peace at last
where all had been trouble and disquiet.
But we have left Faith too long at
the window, and return to find that
the dinner-bell has rung and she has
gone downstairs.
The summer days sped on, and Faith
had grown fond of the little red school
house on the hill, where she taught her
sunburnt and tow-headed pupils to love
her even while climbing the tiresome
hill to knowledge and wisdom.
There were now no words of kindness,
no hints thrown out at her by envious
hearts and tongues, no tears caused by
words and deeds of injustice.
And so Faith grew merry and glad
with the joyousness of nature and its
sunshine.
With Mrs. Jones' boarders she had
little to do beyond the ordinary courte-
sizes of social life. And as she was the
only working bee among a swarm of
tiuttering young butterflies, it may be
imagined that her path and theirs diff
fered considerably during the days of
such idleness for them and duties for
her.
But one grief had our heroine, and
that was indeed the only cloud in her
summer sky.
The brother Of OF one the young ladies
in the house with Faith had in every
way betrayed his preference for the
latter; and, being rich, young, and with
a fair share of good looks, it seemed
hard that Faith could not welcome his
love.
For weeks he had devoted himself TO
her in every way possible, without ven
turing beyond respect and courtesy, and
Faith was not blind to his devotion nor
to his kindness.
But the Thoughts of her inmost heart
by her aver5ed face, her un willingness
to allow him tete- a-tete with her, and
in a hundred ways besides he knew
that as yet the one sweet woman in the
world for him had not learned the lesson
he h4d learned through her unconscious
charms.
But, Though she had not &C learned the
Lesson" for or with him, somebody who
moved the fields and merrily whistled
over his work, pausing only to touch
his broad brimmed straw hat when he
saw the young schoolteacher coming up
the hill each day, was hoping with all
the strength of his honest heart that
she would learn it for himself, as long
before this it had suddenly come to him.
Only one of Deacon Hills farm hands.
there was yet no finer specimen of man.
hood to be found than young John
Grey.
The deacon's house was only a short
distance from Mr.. Jones', and in going
Ind coming to and from school Faith
had to pass the fields where the old
deacon and his "boys," as he called
hem, were at work over the hay.
But it was on an afternoon, soon after
Faith had commenced teaching, that an
happened which introduced the !
girl and John in a manner utterly sans
eeremonie. She had left the school |
house en- route for home, when cross
cow appeared before her in the road,
md with lowered horns and angry eyes
refused to allow her to pass.
Terrified begOnd measure, Faith in
screamed, and john Grey,
alone in the field near by, sprang into
he road to assist her. The cowar-ily
cow started off at a run, but Faith
thanked the young fellow with her gray
sweet eyes, as well as her lips, and when
they parted at the foot of the hill they
FELT well acquainted, and each was CON
scious of newly-learned pleasure, not
exactly TO be described but simply felt
And ever since, when Faith had
passed him, there had been friendly
smile ard nod, and little by little John
had ssuwn to watch for the dainty fig
are which never failed, rain or shine, to
pass the fence where he was at work, on
It's way to the building near by.
In some way, Faith had made the ac-
luaintance of the deacon and his wife,
and had finally learned the habit of
spending an hour with the kind old lady
after school hours, and frequently she
remained to tea, and it always happened
LtldI u Oun WAS Luc one uebdil6u ID 65COTb
the young lady home.
The degree of respect and affection
bestowed upon that young man was
plainly perceived by Faith, and after she
grew to know him better, she did not
wonder at it.
Intelligent and gentlemanly in con-
versation and manner, and winning in
every way, what wonder that his kind
ness and evident liking for Faiths So
ciety was pleasant to her teart, so long
starved and lonely in its longing for