The news and herald. (Winnsboro, S.C.) 1877-1900, 1880-04-13
Lightly Won and Lost.

The last load of hay had been carried
from the upland; and stored within the barn
The heaviest task OF summer had just ended,
and nearly every one on tho "Old Rowland
Farm was rejoicing over the fact. Farmer
Rowland sat back in his easy chair, with
look Of satisfaction OH his honest face. The
meadows and the uplands had each yielded
plentiful crop of grass and clover that
year. The skies had been fair, tho weather
calm and bright; men, women, and chill
dren had worked throughout the season
with will; and only one or two slight
thundcr-showcrs had fallen before the fra
grant loads were cut, and rakcd, and tossed,
and dried, and stacked, or stored in the
barn. An English farmer, in the same
frame Of mind, would have called for an
extra tlagon of old October ale, and his good
wife, hale and hearty, would probably have
shared the sturdy draught with him. But
MIR. Howland only smoked his pipe on the
porch of the farmhouse, without even
drop of cider to wash it down withal; and
his wife piled her knitting needles in her
own particular easy chair beside the open
door, and never dreamed of s'stimulants"
of any kind, save such as her own content
ed mind and calm, approving conscience
gave her, at the end Of the unusually heavy
household tasks, which had been SO faith.
fully attended to during the past four busy
weeks. Did l say that every one on the
old Howland farm was rejoicing, because
''the haying'' had come successfully to an
end?
Nay there was one--lhe farmers only
daughter, and the hcircss of the green do
main--to who each successive swing of the
laborcrs' scythes had been like the mcasur-
ed stroke of doom. There was ono who
had long looked forward, with tears of sad
ness, to that day of all; one, who, now
that it had really como at last, was more
unhappy than sho cared 10 say. or would
have dared to show.
Pretty Alargery Rowland sat on the orch
ard wall at tho foot of tho "tcn-acre lot, ="
tying many a knot in the pink strings of
her straw bonnet, and listening eagerly and
anxiously to every word that fell from the lips
OF tall, athletic, handsome, but somewhat
stern-looking young man, who leaned
against one of the apple-trees beside her,
talking in a low, even, composed tone,
while his grave blue eyes were studying tho
far away landscape, rather than the sweet
face beside him. Alas! its usual light and
bloom were overshadowcd now Poor
Margery was but sixteen; and with all the
ardor of girls Grst love she loved this
uhn or ,f.I H.
side talking Of the morrow, which was to
separate them, perhaps, forever.
He was poor, and also ambitious; an Or
phan, without resources, without near rel
atives, almost without friends, for his proud,
self-containcd spirit was by no means apt
to win him favor, except from those who
knew him well. In winter no taught the
district school; in summer he worked from
place to place among farmers, studying
meanwhile fitting for college," as only
New England lad can do.
He was ready now to go. His work
upon the Rowland farm was done, and the
money received for it, would help him
far upon his way. Early the next morning
he was to leave the farm. By nightfall of
the next day he would be regularly entered
as student at Yale.
Margery listened to 1t oil.
"And when will you come back 2" she
asked at last, with little sigh.
"Rack2' He glanced down at her wist.
full face, with look of surprise. "Bac1
hereS Nevcr--that know of"
She turned deadly pale. But he was
looking away toward the distant mountains,
and did not notice it.
''My life lies yonder, Margery, beyond
those hills. Once clear of this little town,
know nothing that will bring me back"
She was silent.
"Ah the relief" he exclaimed sudden
ly, to 'think that have dono forever with
this rough, rude labor that drags man
down to the level Of the beasts! In future
shall WIN my bread by tho exercise of my
brain. can hardly wait for to-morrows
light to dawn, l am 80 eager to be away"
Still she was silent.
Hc stood lost In revorie for few mo.
ments, and then suddenly rousotl himself.
Well, must 60 and pack my books and
papers, suppose. I shall be Off rly--
before those dark eyes of yours are open,
Margcry. SO will say good-by now"
He held out his hand. She laid hers in
1t, and looked him bravcly in tho face.s
''Good-by, Clinton Parke! / wish you
al the success in llfe that am sure yo,,
will deserve
"Thank you. / will try to deserve THO
highest, he answcred, alitt|e puzzled by
hor werds apd the look she gayo. :'Goodr
by.'
Not q word as to her future, not word
este their past. Full Of his his own egotiati,