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

adore her; but sometimes, while he found
the hymn for her with stumbling eagerness,
she would laugh at him behind her "Acad'
envy Collection" with Maria Thayer, who
sang treble beside her in the choir.
| One evenings warm, huShed evening
after burning August day-Cyrus walked
out to see Octavia and found her oddly
| silent and moody. She sat on the sunken
door-stone, with her elbows on her knees
and her firm white chin resting in her
hands. She wore pink cotton gown and
pair of gold ear-drops, shaped like
little cockle-shells, that Cyrus had given
her. He thought dimly that an angel might
have looked as Octavia did just then.
''Tired-dear" he asked stopping beside
her, He made a little pause before he
| called her "dear." Pet names come stitfiy
from country tongues.
"Yes," said Octavia, DULY. 81 be tired"
"Hed a hard day." he ventured, sitting
down unbidden beside her; "harder'n COM
mon, mean"
at amt that" replied Octavia "I'm
tired of it all, Cyrus-the farm, an the
the fields, an the cattle, an the spinnin',
an the dairy-work, an lynn awake nights
with the rain patterin' on the shingles or
the night-hawks cryin' in the wood-lot. 1t
amt the loOrk. Pm willin' enough to ,o0rk.
It's the SdnleneSS of it all that Pm so tired
Of"
Cyrus pulled a twig from the syringa-
bush beside the doorstep, and began to
strip the leaves off, one by one. "Wal, "he
said, slowly, "most works bout the same,
Octavy, arter ye've done it oncet."
ut isn't that, either, returned the girl,
petulantly. "You don't know what Imean.
Pm tired of eUerythin', Cyrus! !"
As she spoke, she turned her head, and
Cyrus's eyes followed the direction which
hers had taken, To him it was a peaceful,
pieasafiT scene enough-the sweep of green
i. a.
great red-painted barns, the courthouse with
its four long legs capped by rusty tin pans
to keep away the rats, the barn-yard full of
lowing cattle, the empty hay-rack with Oc-
tavia's little sisters playing in it. The bars
between the yard and the irregular meadow
lane were down and two boys sat on the
low stone wall playing something with
various willow sticks. The farmers wife
leaned from the buttery window for a
breath of evening air. Within the open
barn door the farmer and a neighbor chewed
long straws and examined new scythe.
Before the barn cart-horse, freed from his
harness, rolled uncouthly and fourished
his stiff, cumbersome old limbs. Seated on
a wheelbarrow was Hiram, the 'hired
man." in his brown-checked shirt, home
spun trousers and battered straw hat; he
sat slouching forward, with his elbows on
his knees; he was whiting a bit of soft
pine wood, but hewas not making anything
in particular, except shavings; and he was
chewing a straw-a long and yellow one.
Octavia sighed impatiently. "There J"
she exclaimed" | am so tired of seeing
men chew straws."
Cyrus dropped his syringa twig, now
quite stripped of its leaves, and it fell into
the grass. He had Just been thinking of
chewing the end of it. 81 don't chew
straw" he ventured.
Octavia turned and looked at him. He
was not chewing straw, to be sure, but
there was an air of rustic smartness about
him which the girl in her present captious
mood found infinitely annoying "You
don't understand me-" she repeated, pet
tishly.
"No," agreed Cyrus, 81 guess 1 don't. |
dunno, rally, what tits troubles we to night.
| wish did,
A silence fell upon them for moment,
through which came the voices from the
barn:
Got some new-fangled notions abaout
what he calls the rotation of crops. AlluS
was full o. notions"
oval, notions never'll raise wheat for
him in the Harskill medder; l say what |
allus held to"
81 thought" began Cyrus, timidly, shat
eft things went wal this fall might git holt
OF Hubbards lot, next the forge, an hev
the suller dug afore winter, SOS to begin
buildin' ez soon's the frost's outen the
ground in the spring. Mebbe then-ye
might hev home of your own-this time
next year-Octavy-dear."
For moment the girl did not answer.
Her face did not brighten, as Cyrus had
hoped it would. She neither blushed nor
smiled. "But then," she said, ''there is all
winter, Cyrus; an winter on the farm is
worse than the summer" She paused
minute, then suddenly drew from her pocket
letter written in red ink and scented with
musk. 81 had this yesterday" she said,
from my cousin jimmy Buck. She's nv
aunt Marthy's oldest girl-three years older
N me; they live to Lewiston; there's big
mills there, an lots of girls work in 'em.
They have. good times together. jimmy
says it's real gay. They have dances an
all sorts of shows, different from here.
jimmy wants me to come to Lewiston an
work in the mills along with her and Ell
Vlry. l mean to go, too, eff father'll let
me-" She folded the letter very small and
creased it with her thumb and forefnger.
She did not glance toward Cyrus, but
added, after an instant, "An he'll heu to let
me-"
Poor Cyrus could think of nothing to say
for time. His slow brain was completely
unbalanced by the adventurous spirit of
the girl beside him. For himself, he was
entirely content with his life. He never
aspired to go farther from China Valley
than to the county fair at North China, or
to Hollis Mills to witness a river baptism
ITS dretful FIR, Octavy," he said at length,
Lewiston is; | dunna, rally, jest how
many miles, but it's fur away; its consid'-
BILE of journey-dear."
Octavy looked at her lover with some
contempt. SIT amt so dretful fur" she
said. '''You don't know nothin' about trav-
elm, Cyrus"
"Thet's so, Octavy," the smith assented,
humbly: He looked a moment admiringly
at his fearless sweetheart; then his ewes
sought the ground and he repeated slowly,
"Thet's So" He appeared to be benumbed
by the length and danger of the Journey
and by the loss of Octavia.
81 should write to you, of course, Cyrus,
an you would write to me. The winter
would go pretty quick. 1t would be spring
afore you knew it,"
Octavia was determined young woman,
and it was not many weeks before she
really left China Valley for the midtown
OF Lewiston. She started one September
morning, in the old yellow-bodied stage
coach, drawn by two gaunt white horses
and driven by Mr.. Elias Huff, red-faced
and loudly cheerful. Cyrus went to the
village store to give her bunch of dahlias,
yellow and claret and white, and some
early Harvests" in small basket.
"'Lias'll look out for ye," he said, look
ing up at her as she sat flushed and happy
on the back seat of the coach. "Lias he'll
show you the other stage-the one We must
change into at Medder's Falls, We know.D
Eyes, Cyrus" she replied, with slight
restiveness.
Her old father, who had driven her in