The Bossier banner. [volume] (Bellevue, Bossier Parish, La.) 1859-1952, 1883-08-30

4StsFAno th@Ah lOdAlA1S ss5aiAot t1tS Wiz
dow in anything but a cheerful mood.
She had intended to break him of his
vanity, and then marry him; for there
was everything that was good and gem
erous in John, and it never occurred to
her that they could do without each
s-other. And now he was gone, thimble,
needle-box, ring and all
Mary didn't cry. The hope that
Sarah had gone as usual to prayer
meeting, and in the meantime Johns
anger would abate and his love return
to her, held its own against the bitter
ness of self-approach aud regret.
But when the next day wore on, and
the evening was far advanced, and the
possibility that Sarah hadn't gone to
prayer-meeting, and that at this very
moment she was entertaining her future
husband on cider and ginger-snaps,
grew to a certainty, there was nothing
for her to do but to go out of sight and
sound OF tickle humanity, and bury her
grief in the neighborhood of the spring
where John and she had so often list
ened to the music of the falling water,
and the song of love within.
John must have had a similar inn
pulse, for when she drew near the
spring and pulled her handkerchief
from her pocket in preparation for
good cry. she saw John with his head
buried on his knees and oh, Joy? dress
cd in the ordinary working-clothes in
which she always liked to see him.
Her first impulse to make up was re-
strained by the fear that he might be
T. GaTS II fc hafh 1sa
big lump in her throat and tried to look
very Indifferent, as she said:
Good evening, Mr.. Redpath. Per-
haps ! may congratulate your
No you mayn't either, I've cot
nothing to be congratulated for, except
that made a scare-crow out of my
thirty-dollar suit. But it don't seem to
be success even there. The crows are
| as hard on the corn as ever. =
This time the tears came very quickly
to Mary's eyes. She knelt down on the
grass beside him, and said softly:
John, please give me my thimble
again?''
The iron thirnble was fished from the
depths of Johns pockets and handed
to Mary in silence.
The mOmentary stiffness was again
broken by the same pleading voice:
John, please give me my tin needle
case.
The needle-case changed owners in
the same mechanical fashion. y
You look very nice now, John. You
look like man, you know, that one
could love and look up to, said Mary,
at the same time pushing back the
slouch hat and peering closely in his
eyes.
Mary, viii you take the gold ring
nowPn
Mary held out her finger and John
slipped the gold ring on just as he had
slipped on the brass ring ten years ago.
Mary, may / kiss you now?''
She only nodded her head, and John
was tinlid, after a certain adventure the
day before.
'tYou won't treat me like you did the
other day, Mary, if / kiss you?a''
Mary laughed, a little confused, as
she answered: II daren't now, YOU
know; weir engaged. 7
1t was a long while before she made
my effort to free herself from his arms
after that
When they walked home past the
corntield in which the crows were still
busy getting their late supper, in spite
of the fashionable scare in the center
of the field, John, remembering that
other fellow, who had caused him
sleepless night, wanted to know who
his formal rival was
He is John Redpath, the farmer,
and want you to be good to him, =
said Mary, archl{. s.srhe fellow /
didn't like is Mr. Redpath, the dandy,
who isn't even successful as a scare
crow, you see. Is it any wonder ]
would have him.
Both laughed, and were happy.