The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1881-12-10
A FARM HAND.

-es SCNtStS SVu NHoW OCCldiO'e'
Edna Wentworth, taking one of the
squire's great, brown hands betweerl
her soft, white ones, and looking up
into his face.
"A secret, Edna! What can it be?"
he asked, in his grutf tones.
Something which happened while
| was visiting cousin Grace in n "
York"
"Ah ! some fine city notion, | sup
pose. | told your mother that three
months in New York would Spite
you for a plain farmers daughter.
Well, tell me the secret"
The girl hesitatsd, 1 hush a uilf
harrassnient Iingfng her fair cheeks.
"You will not be angry. papa ?"
| she filtered.
Mot unless you have gone and lost
your head and heart over some city
fop. You remember told you ---''
She INTERRUPTED him with a gest.
ure, and then summoning all her
courage, exclaimed
II have lost my heart, but not my
head. And it is to no fop that have
given it, assure you. He is "A noble,
true-hearted man. ana there is nc
reason why we should not love each
other"
She spoke rapidly and with
warmth. But the expression upon
the. stern countenance of Squire
Wentworth made her pause, and the
color left her cheeks. She knew her
father to be very firm man she
knew that he was as full of whims
and unreasonable notions AS human
being could hold; and, withal, she
knew that he possessed an indomi-
table will which he exercised upon
occasions to the extent of obstinacy.
And now she saw storm in his
face, and she shrank from it in fear.
1t was not long in breaking.
EDNA Wentworth, how dare you
come to me with this? How dare
you throw yourself away upon a
brainess stranger, when you know
that | have chosen for you, and chos-
en- wisely; too? What will John
Hayden say if he learns OF your
folly ?'
The voice of the old man was
hoarse with rage, and he glar-
ed upon his beautiful daughter as
though his heart was fl led with hate
instead of love toward her. And
yet it was his love which prompted
his Indignation at what he chose to
call her folly.
Papa, | told you long ago that
could never marry John. like him
as a friend, and no more. And-and
it is two late now, / have pledg4
ed myself to Paul Gregory !" Edna
returned. her voice very low and
tremulous, yet quite firm.
And then-but we will not repeat
the torrent of unreasonable words
which came from Squire Went
Worth's lips. We doubt if he could
have repeated them himself an hour
later.
Edna fled to her room and there.
throwing herself upon her couch.
wept and prayed in such hopeless
misery as had never come to her be
fore.
And at last a sort of peace came
upon her and she rose with d bright
look in her sweet face.
Very deliberately she seated her-
self at her little table, and producing
writing materials proceeded to indite
a long-very long --epistle.
1t was duly sealed and directed to
Paul Gregory. New York. And
within an hour it was posted ard no
one except. the village postmaster
knew such letter had been sent
through the mails.
"Could you give man job
through haying ~
The speaker was a tall, broad.
shouldered fellow, evidently upward
of twenty-five years of age. His
face, though not very brown. had
ruddy hue, and his large, blue eyes
and handsome features could not
have failed to impress a stranger fav-
orably.
Squire Wentworth surveyed the
applicant for "job" with critical
eyes.
The stranger was clad in plain.
substantial manner, his pantaloons
tucked in the top of his boots and
his broad, panama hat slouched over
his face.
The squire noticed that mis- hands
were almost as fair as a woman's, but
he saw that they were large and
muscular.