The Abbeville messenger. (Abbeville, S.C.) 1884-1887, 1885-12-15
stood straining his eyes in the stormy
darkness. as if to catch sight of some
familiar face in the little crowd.

Wv OAAAAo VI Cd1o O1OAO0" WlllShCE0u
young giant. For had not she and
Zebedee played dominoes and fox-and-
geese together, in the days when she
wore blue ribbon sashes, and his hair
was a closely shorn mat of carroty-red?
ooh Cousin Zebedee, I'm so glad
to see you; and L hadn't any idea you
had grown half so handsome r
And she gave him a great hug, at
the same time holding up her rosebud
lips for a kiss.
But, to her infinite amazement, the
hero of the sealskin cap seemed a lit
tie backward in responding to her
cousin1y advances.
ell beg your PARDON" said he,
slightly receding, "but I'm afraid
there is some mistake. My name is
not Zebedee and the lady for whom I
I'm looking is some years older than
YOU"
Bertha Hooper started back coloring
and confused, and as she did so, a fat,
comfortable-looking old lady came
trundling along the platform in an
India shawl and a boa of Russia sable
worth its weight in gr~eenbacks.
"Charlie!" she cried, II thought I
never should find you, Is the carriage
here?'
Call here and waiting, Aunt Efie,"
responded the young man; but he still
hesitated a second as Bertha Hooper
stood with averted face and m~otionless
figure in the shadow Of the building.
Gan l be of any service to your"
he asked. ."If you are expecting
friends who have failed to meet you
ANYBODY here by the name of Ber-
tina Hoo-ooper P" shouted a %stentorian
voice, and a tall, raw-looking lad with
a lantern-also lighted with red glass
rushed shutting around the corner.
Zebedee HIMSELF red-haired and
stumbling and awkward as he had
been in the old fox-and-geese days.
"Oh!" said he, catching up his Ian
tern so that the scarlet birds wings
flashed out like a spit of fiame-scarce-
ly more scarlet, alas. than Bertha's
own face. "Here you bel Pm a
little late, for the roads is so alfred
bad, and I couldn't start the pony out
of a walk. Come on. How de do?
Be you very cold?"
"Zebedee,"' said Bertha, clinging
almost Historically to her cousins
arm. who's that young gentleman
with-with the other lantern ?'
"Eh!" said Zebedee. THAT Teller
with the old lady in a patchwork
shawl2"
"Yes."
Its Charley Harcourt, the squire's
son." said Zebedee. '.Just come from
Turin partsT"
"Zebedee," said Bertha, with a curl
GUS little sound between a laugh and
a sob, put me into the cutter, quick,
and drive me somewhere. I don't
care where! Because"
"Eh!' said Zebedee, staring hard at
his cousin, as he packed the buffalo
robe around her before touching up
the laggard old pony.
Because" added Bertha, in a spe-
cies of desperation, 81 took Mr.. Har-
court for you; and I Rugged him and
kissed him."
els that ALP" said philosophical
Zebedee. "He won't care"
"No!" said Bertha, "but I shall"
"You amt crying, be yous" said
Zebedee, noting the culver in his
cousins voice.
"How can 1 help til walled poor
Der tina.
"Twarn't no fault o'yourn," said
Zebedee, consolingly.
"Of urse it warn't," said Bertha,
impatiently. "How was I to know
that every lantern at Montcourt had
a red glass doorto it?"
And poor little Bertha cried herself
to sleep that night.
The next neutrality-suspicious. Day,
all showed up into glorious drifts ev-
erywhere-Mr. Harcourt drove over
to the Higgins farmhouse. The
young lady had dropped a fur glove
on the platform, and Mr.. Harcourt