The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1883-05-12

20, no." said the girl, quickly: "I,m
well I'm very well, Cyrus, an hope, % her
mind falling upon her accustomed set
phrase for letter-writing,-"Ih hope you are
Cyrus" '"'
WAL" said Cyrus, happily content.
I've got somethin' to tell you too, Octavv..
GU tell yours first, an then I'll tell mine.'
he took her hand; it was cold and re-
luctant hand, but he was too happy to no.
tice 1t, and they walked along in silence till
they reached the meadow-bars.
Ihey heard the plaintive bleat of the
young lambs in the sheep-fold, and the
nigh, continuous thrill of the frogs in the
nelghborlng marsh. Suddenly Octavia with
drew her hand, and, STOPPING, picked two
or three blades of brown grass and com
pared their lengths with great interest.
"We-you know we've ben keepin' COM
pany now most five years, Cyrus" she
began.
YES" assented her lover; "thet's sou
AM, you see, we might 90 on am on.
Cyrus, in just the same old way, An, then
the city is so different from here; it makes
the village look so small an mean. You
don't know how it looks after you've ben
away in the city,"
Cyrus looked puzzled. He could not in
the least catch the drift of what Octavia was
saying. mo-" he agreed, 81 don't s'pose
l do" P0'o
The girl began to pull her blades of
grass into small pieces. 81 amt no
hand to beat about the BUSH" she broke
out suddenly. II never was. There
was gentleman down there to Lewiston.
he had a grocery, not a bit like Perkins;
store, Cyrus, but real elegant store, with
two front windows, an his name in gold
letters on the sign, you know"
The blacksmith looked at her steadily.
&G0en; i>be said. 49,, .s-,-------.s.
'Well, he was sort of keepin' company
with my cousin, JinnyBuck, though he says
henever had spoke word her about mar
ryin', an'-well, | couldn't help it if he
liked me bettern' he did jim. 1t wasn't nv
fault, as told her. [ never did nothin' to
draw him toward me; of course | wouldn't.
Jinny's the meanest girl! She cast it up
in
''Stop minute" Cyrus interrupted. 81
i guess l wouldn't mind about jimmy, if
| was you, Octavy. 1t amt about her
want to hear. l don't knO1 jimmy, we
see."
Octavia turned away and looked down
the long country road There was nothing
to see but the stone walls and naked elder
bushes; but, somehow, she did not want to
look at her lover just then. 81 s'pose l
may as well tell we first as last" she said.
"He KEEP a-comin' all the time an he would
meet me at the mills every night, just to
go everywhere an keep buyin' things for
me-there! he did just poster me so-an'
jimmy was so hateful all the time, am Aunt
Buck went am said I'd behaved bad to
jimmy, an must find some other place to
board, am | didn't have nowhere to 90, an
so-well, he's dretful masterful anyway,
Jim Haskell is, an he'd made up his mind
to hev me whether or no, an'-well,
couldn't stand out agin him, an the truth,
an the whole truth is, we was married last
Monday morning, an it's done anyhow,
an can't be undone."
Cyrus did not say anything. He put out
his left hand little blindly, as if reaching
for something. He struck the bars of the
meadow, by which they had stopped and
chung to the wooden post.
81 spose l might "a written" the girl
went on swiftly, without looking at him,
"but | thought / could tell YOU better than
to write, anyhow, an knew was comm
right home" The woman's small soul,
searching for self-excuSe and comfort, made
her abusive. Everybody tormented me
So" she said, petulantly. 81 was just
drove into it, anyway; | hadn't no say
about it; an now that I've come home,
father and mother are both down on me,
an now you bear malice. / just wish
was dead!"
Don't say tibet, Octavy," broke out
Cyrus, at length. "Don't wish we was
dead. You-you don't know what you're
''Well," said the girl, 81 don't care; do.
Everybody seems to blame me. l don't
know what L could have done. Everybody
is so cross. l hain't been treated bit like
a BRIDE"
"Hain't you?" asked Cyrus, looking at
her DULY. "Why, thet's too bad"
1t seemed to him as though that high,
H.
driving him quite mad. He could hear
nothing but the frogs. His head seemed to
reel and swim. He saw Octavia speaking,
her lips moved, but he could not hear what
she said. Suddenly the humming in his
head grew more intense, then came a. snap,
as if something there had broken. The
humming still continued, but the pitch was
lower and it was more monotonous. Cyrus
thought vaguely that it was like the noise
he had noticed at Hollis Mills-frst
with the doors wide open and then with
them closed. Again he saw Octavia speak.
81 can't hear ye," he said, in dull, slow
way. eye needn't whisper, Octavy; there
amt nobody to overhear Jest say it out
loud"
She did not answer him. She only stood
looking at him oddly. He noticed that the
young lambs had stopped their soft treble
bleating and the frogs had ceased croaking
in the low, green marsh. A strange, dull,
heavy silence had fallen over every
thing. Octavia's face, with its clear,
pink-and-white tints, moved in a Curl
Gus way, swimming to and fro be-
fore him. Her black hair, the scarlet
shawl, the golden ornaments in her ears,
all blended and became tremulous and
hazy.
Was she going mad, that she danced be-
fore him in that slow, mysterious way.
When Cyrus opened his eyes, the sun-a
low June sun-was shining redly into the
little chamber of his own house. A woman
not Octavia-sat knitting by the window
an old woman, with worn, brown face
and thin gray hair screwed into rigorous
knot, dismal gown OF the material known
as "mourning Calico" and string of gold
beads about her withered neck. The win
dow was open, and, just outside, an apple
tree rosy and white with bloom screened the
room from the sun. On the high red bureau
were bottles and cups and bowls with
plates set over them. Beside his bed ON
little stand was a glass half full of laven-
.der-water, with flies buzzing about it drow-
silly, drawn by the faint sweet odor.
Cyrus looked from these to familiar
pi9ture in a cherry frame. 1t was called
'"rhe Village Beauty" and represented a
red-cheeked, black-haired maiden in
tight red gown, feeding from her lips a
yellow bird who perched on her unnaturally
taper finger. Cyrus had bought it of a
peddler because he thought the girl looked
like Octavia.
His eyes wandered on languidly and
fell at last upon the patchwork quilt of
yellow "rising suns" upon green ground
work; and then he came to notice his own