The Kimball graphic. (Kimball, Brule County, Dakota [S.D.]) 1883-1905, 1884-05-30
ST. JOHNS EVE.

udIu III INOILH hauGS. VINO Snall gam
sayit? But who am I to describe her?
"Aour Patty be vine enuff to be q
lady born!" was the oftspoken thought
of her father and mother-the one UNI
der gardener the other ex-laundry maid
at the "Great House."
And, sure enough, Patty, according
to the %wiseacres, had for sometime been
in a fair way to have her head turned
by so many admirers.
A nod and q chuck under the chin
from the young Squire" and a'sWaal,
+ she beant noo!" from John Brown
the grizzled old earth stopper, as he
saw her whisk across tho court yard,
we're perhaps the highest and lowest
g%raduations of admiration directly <
pressed. But even "The Squire" him
self had been heard to say to "My La
dy;;" "Egad, Jane, that Holden girl is
devilish pretty!" And every farmer and
farmers boy, whip and groom, keeper
and poacher, within ten miles of the
Great House, was worshipping, or had
worshipped to his cost, at the shrine of
Venus Sylvestris.
However, Patty was "going along"
eighteen. and her little heart seemed as
sound as n bell; her cheek was round
and downy as q peach; her blue eyes
glanced clear and honest through the
dark lashes, and her whole demeanor
lefed the most curious of gossips to say
she had a thought other than to attend
upon her young mistress.
But innocent rs she looked-inno-
cent as she really was-Patty, like most
of the rest of ~womenkmd, Rugged to
her own heart her little secret; and
though scarce ten words had passed be-
tween them, she knew full we'll as he at
the time our story opens, Christmas,
IL, that William Halfacre of Ever
sley, "Gypsy WILL" as they used to call
him, was her accepted lover.
Simple enough, and in this wise, had
it come about.
One day in the August previous,
North Hants had challenged South
Hants to meet on the cricket field out
side of the garden gates of the Great
House and Southampton and Lynhurst,
Portsmouth aud Winchester had mus
tered against Bramshill and Basing-
stroke, the Vine and High Clere, to
Wy UlCAA 1SSPCGGlNo WOI ollos NJ OdJ
was it then, as now, of white fan
nels and straw hats, fancy club rib
bons, and silk waist handkerchiefs, of
four balls an over, and lightning-paced
round-arm bowling, done by gem
tlemanlike professional cricketers,
who make their cool hundred, and
lounge into the marquee for a cigarette
and a claret cup. No. In black tweed
broadcloth and white duck trousers,
white frilled linen shirts, and tall black
hats, did heroes of the close of the
asst century meet to "do each other to
death" with slow and fast underhand
bowling. And what need of q marquee
was there on that field where each
mighty linden of the avenue on one
side, or massive oak along the church
path, along the other side of the lawn,
was in itself q tent for q regiment?
What need of claret cup when the "old
October" foamed in the Great House
silver tanllards under a holly bower pre-
sided over by the brewer thereof-the
old family butler?
And among the heroes of the evil
lows" gathered round the group of
oldsters gravely discussing in
the centre of the field the merits of the
wickets-how man. runs it should be in
to the ditch, how many over, &C., &c
stood Gypsy Will, the fastest bowler and
hardest hitter in North Hants.
A second son Of the favorite old ten
ant, the Squire had a few years before
| given him a start on moorland farm
much too ~plodding o life for Will, who
soon exchanged it for an underkeeper-
ship; whereat the numberless ARRAYS
with poachers kept excitement alive and
stimulated his manhood into energy.
"Play" was at last called; and North
and South Hants bowled and batted,
ran and folded, and when occasion
came for it, ate and drank as if life de-
pended on it. The rector kept the
score, and cheered each good hit to the
echo; and the old Squire made his pad
groom lift him out Of his low phaeton,
standing under the lime trees, aud de-
posit him in o big arm chair, with his
equity foot on a cushion, a little nearer
the play, and even forgot to curse him
for o clumsy fool, 80 exciting was the
game.
At last the winning hit was made by
Gypsy Will. But the day was not oyer
yet, as ere the last cheers for the con
guerers and conquered had died away,
q fiddle and clarionet struck up a coun-
try dance, in which it was somehow fat
ed that Martha Holden and Will Hal
facre should "cross hands and downthe
middle"-a presage of what should fol-
low.
Suffice it for the present, that as Pat
ty walked back to the house with him
en- hour after, as the drowsy shard-bee-
tie took the place of the bees III the lin
dens overhead, and she stole a look into
Wills face and thought of his manliness
and beauty, she loved him once and for
all, and he looked down on her and
loved in return.
But the lime-treel leaves began to turn
and flicker down on the lawn, the brack-
en- bronzed under the sun, the last red
heather blossom turned purple, mauve,
and then brown, hepuppies came home
from walk, and cub hunting began
and still no sign from William.
November and the opening meet Of
the season brought its honseful OF
guests-its breakfast table set in the
great hall, gay with pink, green and
black coats, white brooches and boots
jangling on the stone hoor-the hounds
frolicking round the huntsmen on the
lawn, say only one, old "Harbinger,
the squire's pet, that was snoozing at
the old mans knees mside-and brought
for Patty its helter-skelter run with her
young mistress along the grass ride to
get before the rush Of horsemen to the
old summer house, where, encased in
sturdy %veiveteen, gun on arm and re-
triever at heel, stood Gypsy Will.
The sign came! A bow and a blush
for my young lady, a blush, a bow, q