The Somerset herald. [volume] (Somerset, Pa.) 1870-1936, 1884-09-24

despotism,
Fernando. | am quite sure you
have missed the way"
l burst out laughing at the be-
wilderment of my wife's voice.
1T looks like it, Flora, | must
say. Well, we must drive back to
the last cross-roads-fve miles if il
! is a step"
| looked around at the fine old
woods on either side of the solitary
road, in hopes of seeing something
like human habitation.
Look, Florence l cried tri.
umphantly, as l checked the horses
" isn't that smoke ?"
Florence shook her head.
Mist from some low-lying stream
more likely" she said, increduously
AS if my eyesight were not
more trustworthy than that / tell
you, young lady, that is smoke
There's rural cot among those ce-
dars, and l intend to cast myself
and you upon the hospitality Of
these dwellers in the wilderness.
am hungry"
so am l." laughed my wife
"but I don't believe"
Isprang out, picketed my horse
to tall sailing ard gave my arm
ostentatiously 10 my bright-eyed
companion.
" At all events" l said, well gt
and see.
Across the cool aisles of the mid
summer woods-through dense un-
derbrush and thickets of wild roses
that showered their pink petal;
round our feet as we walked-ovel
clear stream, by the aid of faller
log we made our way, until Flor
ence's doubts were solved by the ac
tual appearance of a little one-story
cottage or cabin of unpainted wood
in stump-dotted clearing, where {
melancholy pig, roofing under the
porch foundation, and a patch O.
yellow-looking, stunted cabbages ir
the background, denoted something
like civilization.
"Oh, Fernandez" whispered my
wife, as we saw a coarse-looking
shock-headed man, smoking shor
black pipe on the porch, with his Ell
bows on his knees and a greasy
newspaper before him, while two o.
three sun-burned elves in fadec
clothing played around his feet
"Let us 60 back This is such hor
rid placel" "
81 dare say we can buy a draught
of milk, or even raw cabbage
here" | reassured her. why, Flor
ence, child, you wouldn't make
much of soldier! !"
The man looked Up as We ap-
preached, and we explained the di
lemma in which we found ourselves
"Oh, of conrse-of course" he
said with gleam of courtesy which
showed that he had not always pass
ed his life in these dreary wilder
nesses. "Sit down; Jamie, cal
your mother. l believe my wife:
somewhere round at the back of the
house splitting kindlings."
Florence opened wide her soft
brown eyes at this speech.
You are an inyalid ?"
"An invalid?" with a hearty
laugh, which plainly indicated the
sound condition of his lungs at least
mot much of the invalid about me
| guess p"
Then why don't you split the
kindlings for her ?" asked frank
Florence.
He arched his eyebrows with lazy
scorn.
Il don't believe in this business
of Woman's Rights and Female
Suffrage" he answered, slowly puff
ing the black pipe. Pm for keep
ing women down where they belong.
If nv wife isn't hard at work, she'll
be whining and complaining about
the days when we were better Oft.
I'm not the man to humor woman s
whims. st. Paul's better than any
of your modern apostles, and he
believed in keeping women at
work.
Florence was about Indignantly
to combat this position, when a lit
tie bare-legged urchin came tum-
bling round the corner of the hut.
Mother amt splitting kindlings
she's gone to the spring for water
| hollered to her to come quick,
Poppy wanted her."
That's right sonny" said ouI
host, complacently.
Almost in the same moment, a
bowed-down, weary-loooking woman
emerged from the wall of the woods
below the mouse, carrying brim-
ming pail of water in either hand
a faded, bonnetless woman, whose
yellow, lusterless hair was twisted
into tight knot at the back of her
head, and whose brow was already
scanned with wrinkles, though she
had scarcely reached middle age.
Yet there was an impalpable some.
thing in the wan face that strained
my memory strangely.
Kate Dallasl" / involuntarily