Millheim Journal. [volume] (Millheim, Pa.) 1876-1984, 1883-06-07
IF THEY HAD KNOWN,

"Soyou'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! ha! ha! And you didn't
make such a big fortune as you calcu-
lated, 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 il the same old
blue-checked overalls, with the same
battered straw hat, the same wrinkles
between his brows, driving the same
ldred cows home through the twilight
lane, where the scent of trampled
spearmint came up, and the melan-
choly notes of distant whip-poor-will
sounded taintly on the purple silence.
And yet and yet it was twenty odd
years since he had left Elm Mountain,
with all his worldly goods balanced in
bundle on his back. He had been a
iashing lad Of twenty-one then: there
were silver hairs in his black locks,
now, and he had left dead past buried
under the sweet magnolia groves.
And here was Moses Sewell, just the
same as ever, only tritie yellower and
more dried up.
''Yes," Clay said, quietly, "Pve come
back. And you are right when you
say fortunes don't grow on every
bush"
Coin to your uncle's house?" said
Mr.. Sewell, leaning over the bars.
Hes dead and buried, poor fellow.
Always had weak chest, you know.
And the gals amt no younger-the
three old maids we call 'em-ha, ha,
nap
And again the old farmer chuckled
himself into state of semi-suffocation.
s"Come in and see US" said he. "My
daughter Aurilla she's come back a
widow and does tailorin' and plain
,ewin'. The old woman's stone deaf
out she's dreadful quick at catchin'
PERSONS meaningp
And off he trudged over the bruised
patches of sweet-smelling spearmint,
MS broad figure vanishing into the
gloom ike shadow.
"Three old maids, eh?" repeated
Jerome Clay to himself. CLARA and
Bess and little Kate, the golden-haired
beauty, the Soft-eyed poetess, the bright
little sprite who was a mixture of
Undine and Queen Nab. Then, surely,
Father Time has not stood stillr'
The light was shining 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 returned 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 hair had lost
It's burnish, and she was not quite as
tidy Us she used to be in the old days
Ebout her ribbons and frills. Soft
eyed Bessie's sweet voice had degener-
ated into a whine; she had grown
round-shouldered and lost one of her
front teeth; and little Kate was stout,
middle-aged woman, who reminded
one of Undine no more.
But they were his cousins still-the
girls who had romped and fiirted with
him in due arithmetical progression.
And there still existed bond of stead
fast 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.
'1 have brought my three children
to the North" he said. II left them in
New York, and if can get some gen.
nine. whole-souled woman to take
charge of my home, I'm thinking of
settling here in Elm Mountain. Clara,
dear, you used to be fond of me in the
old times! What do you say to under
taking this charger
The Beauty seemed to grow smaller,
sharper, more business-like. all in a
second. If Cousin Jerome had come
home a millionaire, she would have
jumped into his arms.
But Clara Nicely was not romanti-