River Falls journal. [volume] (River Falls, Pierce County, Wis.) 1872-2019, 1883-11-29
RICH OR POOR.

80 you've come back again, Jerome?"
SAID old Mr.. Sewell. "Well, we heard
you was thinkin' of returnin' to Elm
Mountain. Bad pennies always come
back-ha! hal ha! And you did not
make such big fortune as you calcula-
led, eh?"
Jerome Clay leaned over the old zig
gag rail fence and rubbed his eyes. Had
time stood still all these years while he
had been in the South" For here was
| Farmer Sewell IN the same old blue
checked overalls, with the same bat
tered straw nat, the same wrinkles be-
tween his brows, driving the same old
red cows home through the twilight lane,
where the scent of trampled spearmint
came up, and the melancholy notes of a
whppoorwill sounded family on the
purple silence.
And yet-and yet twas twenty odd
years since he had left Elm Mountain,
with all his worldly goods balanced in a
! bundle on his back. He had been a
| dashins la1 OF twenty-one, then; there
were silver hairs in his black locks, now,
and he left dead past buried under the
sweet magnolia groves. And here was
! Moses Sewell, Just the same as ever,
| only trifie yellowerand more dried up.
Yes" Clay said; quietly, "Pve come
| back And you are right when y0u say
| that fortunes don't grow on every bush"
aGoin' toiyour uLcles house," said Mr.
Seweil, leaning over the bars. He's
| dead and buried, poor fellow. Always
| had a weak chest you know. And the
gals amt no younger. The three old
maids we call 'em-ha, ha, la, hap
And again the old farmer chuckled
himself into a state .of semi sutfocation.
Come in and see us" said he. My
| daughter Aurilla," she's come back a
widow and does tailorin and plain SEWN
The Old woman's stone deaf but she's
| dreadful quick at catchin' a persons
meaning!"
And off he trudged over the patches
| of sweet smiling spearmint, his broad
figure vanishing Into the gloom like q
shadow.
"Three old maids, eh?" repeated Jer-
ONE Clay to himself "Clara and Bess,
and little Kate, the golden-haired beau
| ty, the soft eyed poetess, the wild little
| sprite who was mixture of Undlne and
| Queen Nab. Then, surely, Father Time
has not atood still"
The light shone out, as of old, from
the red-curtained easement, the great
fire of logs was blazing on the hearth,
and the three cousins greeted the re-
turned wanderer with unaffected
warmth.
They were changed, of course. What
else could have been expected? The
beauty had grown sharp and freckled
and her lovely hair5had lost its burrish.,
4 Oh Oh 20
used to be in the old days about her
ribbons and frils. Soft-eyed Bessie's
sweet voice had degenerated into a
whine; she had grown round-should-
cred and lost one of her front teath
and little Kate was stout, middle-aged
woman, who reminded one of Undlne
no more.
But they were cousins still-the girls
who had played and romped and
| flirtedwith him in due arithmetical pro-
| erosion. And there still existed a bond
| of steadfast friendship, and he told them
| the story of the Southern wife who had
been buried for five years under the
magnolias, and they all sympathized
and beauty even cried little.
81 have brought my three children
TO the North" he said. 81 left them III
New York, and if can get some genu-
inc, whole-souled woman to take charge
| of my home, I'm thinking of settling
here in Elm Mountain. Clara, dear you
used to DO fond of me in the old times!
| What do you say to undertaking the
| charger
The beauty seemed to grow smaller,
| sharper, more business-like, in second /;
| if cousin Jerome had come home q mil
| lionaire, she would have jnmped into
| his arms.
But Clara Nicely was not Economically
inclined. To her, love III a cottage pos
| sessed no charms.
II couldn't Jerome, she answered,
| quickly. "Pm not very strong, and l
| couldn't assume any responsibility of
tins arduous nature. Besides, I'm not
| fond of children. I'm greatly obliged to
| you, Pm sure, but II rather not"
Jerome Clay bit his lip.
"Of course" he said, cit is for you to
| decide. But if Jessie"
The poetess shrugged her shoulders,
| and laughed a light, shrill-sounding
caehination.
cousin Jerome" said she, GIFTS just
| as well to be frank about these matters.
| | wouldn't marry poor man-not if
| loved him like Romeo and Juliet. It's
bad enough to scrape along as we do
| here. with only half what one requires
1
poverty, with two or three children be-
longing to another woman no, l thank
| you"
For time, as may easily be perceived,
| had eliminated great deal ofpoetical
| element from Bessie Neely's soul.
The qamdam Undine did not wait for
| the question, as far as she was concern
| ed but added, promptly, tn 1t she quite
agra ed with her sister in all these mat
ters
ITS such pity you didn't stay here,
where you were well off, Jerome" said
she. in the plying, palronizing manner
which your genuine man most abhOrs.
Dear pa, you know, always disap-
proved of your going south. And you
might have got the situation of agent to
the Waite Castle Place, at eight hun
bred a year, and cottage found. if
you'd only been here on the spot. Pa
used to know the old agent, and could
have recommended you"
Jerome smiled.
"White Castle?" said he. "Thats the
big house on the hill, where we chill.
dren used to peep at the roses and
white grapes through the glass sides OF
the great greenhouse. A grand place,
as | remember it..
"And the position of agent is most re-
sponsible. and highly considered"
broke in Bessie.
Jerome Clay went away feeling rather
depressed.
il is not the lot of every man to be
thrice rejected in one evening.
They think | am failure in life, I"
said he, half smiling. halfsighing. We'll
perhaps they are not wrong. Peoples
ideas differ"
Aurillia Haven, the old farmers
daughter, had been a wild hoyden of a
schoolgirl when Jerome CLAW went
south. She was silent pale woman OF
three and thirty now, who did the
s'tailoress'' work Of the neighborhood.
and had hard worg to get along.
But her dark brown eyes lighted up
when Mr.. CLAY spoke of his far-of home
and her cheek glowed scarlet when Mr..
Sewell chuckled ont:
so the three old maids wouldn't
have nothing to say to you? Ha, ha,
han'
'tDo you blame them?" said Jerome.
"WelI, no." confessed the old man.
Gals naturally want to better them
selves nowadays. If you'd come back
with your pockets full of gold, they'd
sing different song, you'd see.
Aurilla looked plying at Jerome
Clay. She, too, had found life failure.
and in her quiet way did all that she
could to comfort the tail, quiet man,
Who had hired the spare chamber In