The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1884-06-21
WENTWORTH'S CRIME.


IIrIarn W eru,r0 % U, ran1l1larIy e,sr,oci
Billy, was faithfully following the plow
He was not in any way conventional
plowman. Neither in the appearance of
the field, nor of the pillow, nor of the ami
mails, nor of Billy himself, was there any
thing to recall Holbein's picture of the
peasant and his misery, or that tended
concretely to realize the usual vision
brought up by the words ga man following
the plow." In the first place, Billy was
not exactly following the pillow; to speak
with scrupulous correctness, he was riding
the pillow. The animals that drew both
him and the pillow were neither slow, clumsy
oxen, crowding each other beneath heavy
yoke, nor yet galled-shouldered, bony
horses, but two strong, broad-breasted
mules, with great ears and neat, slim legs.
We hesitate to mention this fact, but real
ism and truth are the great things, after
all, and sentiment and the traditional
plowman must give way to them.
The pillow itself would have puzzled
any or all of the great farmers, from
Cain to the author of The Hundred
Points of Good Husbandry; and many
an honest son of the soil since the days of
Tusser would have considered it good for
nothing but old iron and firewood. 1t was
complicated affair on wheels, with a
variety of contrivances for regulating the
depth to which the ground should be
stirred, for chilling up" and for hosting
the shovels entirely out of the ground. In
fact, 1t was not even called pillow; it was
a cultivator, and Billy was not blowing
preparatory to sowing the seed, but was
cultivating Indian corn.
StllI the scene was picturesque enough,
Tor any one with an eye for color and an
accommodating sense of the general fitness
OF things. The long rows of corn, stretch
ing over the gentle rise of ground and con-
fusedly mixing up their broad, waving
blades Mt the summit a
and the broad, rectangular field, separated
from the open prairie surrounding it by no
other boundaries than the sharply marked
lines between the different shades of this
sylvan color, seemed like dark, square
cornered oasis in desert of coarse grass
and gaudy flowers.
- When Billy reached the top of the slight
ridge, If he had looked about him over the
thousand nils OF waving corn, he would
have seen, beyond an intervening stretch
of prairie that lay dull and darkened by
the shadow of a cloud, a distant field of
yellow barley fast ripening for the harvest,
and one Of wheat just turning, that flashed
brightly in the flooding light of the evening
sun. The western sky was fringed with
br1lliant-colored clouds, decked out in
borrowed finery to attend the glorious set
ting of their creditor, and Billy might
have let his eyes wander from earth to sky
and from sky to earth, in an uncertainty
OF aesthetic enjoyment; but he merely
glanced at the sun behind the clouds, and
calculated how many rounds the mules
could make before quitting-time. For he
was impatient to be at the end of his davis
labor; not because he found it hard work
to ride over the rough ground so many
hours every day, nor because he was
hungry-though blowing corn is both a
tireSome and hunger-giving occupation
but Billy was in love!
1t is quite natural and perfectly possible
for n nlOwmaO n bp in Of IA
Headrigg love and woo and win pretty
Jenny Dennison? Was not one of the most
promiscuous, and yet most faithful, lovers
we know of plowman? And was not.
But 1t IS unnecessary to quote precedences !;
for if Billy had been the first plowman in
the world who had ever loved and been i'm
patient to fly to the presence of his
charmer, the fact would not have cooled
his ardor nor SOothed his Impotence; and
when he had decided that he could com
plete that round and another before taking
out the mules, Billy sent his long whip
whistling about their great ears, and
hurried them through the corn as if the
sun were IN the eastern instead of in the
western sky, and they were starting fresh
in the morning Instead of reaching the end
OF long days work.
The faithful mules, however, knew their
drivers mood; the habit of weeks had
taught them to know that the remainder
of their task for the day was now a fixed
amount, and that as soon as it was finished
they would be led to the trough of cool
water and the manger of bright oats and
fragrant hay. SO they responded willingly
to Billy's urging, and soon came out at the
edge of the field; and then, beginning on
their last rOund-the rows were half a mile
long-tinished it in twenty minutes by
Billy's heavy silver watch, very reliable
timepiece for any period of time less than
an hour in duration.
When Billy had led the mules to the
watering-trough, and brought the wind
mill round to the breeze to pump fresh
water from the deep well-'a hundred and
thirteen feet, if it is an inch," Farmer
Fuller would often declare-he was some
what disappointed and surprised that no
one came to the door to tell him to hurry
IN, Tor supper was waiting; or else play
fully to accuse him of laZiness for ''turn-
ing out" so early; or to ask him how many
acres he had got over; or, under some pre-
text or other, to greet him and let him
know his comings and goings were matters
of interest TO at least one person the world.
81 wonder where she is" thought Billy:
and imagining that she had perhaps not
heard him talking to the eager brutes as
they made impatiently for the water,
though he had shouted "without any miti-
cation or remOrse Of voice." he began
whistling loudly for the dog. Tige came
running up readily enough--in fact, he had
been almost at Billy's heels for the last ten
minutes-but no one appeared at the open
door; and Billy was finally obliged to lead
the mules Off to the stable, and give them
their oats and hay, without getting a sight
of Eva Fuller's pretty figure in the door
way, or hearing her innocent laugh at his
dust-begrimed face; without an oppor-
tunity of showing how well he could
take harmless jest, when it came from
her.
"If that young Phillips has been around
here again, with his buggy and fancy har-
ness" Billy muttered, as he thrust the
pitchfork viciously into the Manager and
packed down the hay with a vehemence en-
trely needless-"why, if he has, there'll
be trouble on the ranch, that's ALL"
When he had washed the streaked layer
OF soil from his face, and tried in vain for
sometime to brush the kink out of the ends
Of his black hair-it was always a trial