The true northerner. [volume] (Paw Paw, Mich.) 1855-1920, 1885-09-10


white shirt-slceves drawing near.
"You have broken down." said the
owner, heartily, jumping down.
coming all to pieces" said Dora, still
trembling from fright. Gould you do
anything to help us? i should be. OIL
SO much obliged to you"
"Yes," said Ada, shaking the dust off
her silk skirts. I'VE are the Misses
Atherton. We will pay you, of course"
The man bent to examine the axle
tree. His side face was toward Dora,
but she plainly saw him smile.
Its not so very bad, then?" she
said, anxiously.
1T might be fixed, think. so you
could get home safely; but 1 haven't
much time. In fact, I'm in great
hurry"
what is your time worth to you?"
asked Ada, with the air she had once
seen millionaire use when speaking to
some workmen he was about to employ.
Sometimes more, sometimes less, {"
answered the man, with the same quiz
zical smile.
But he had procured cord from his
pocket, and, with deft fingers, began
mending the broken trace. Then he
produced some nails, and with stone
pounded away vigorously beneath the
carriage.
There by driving carefully you will
be able to reach home safely" he said,
at last, rising.
There was something in his composed
manner and distinct enunciation which
made Ada stare for an instant; but she
could see little beneath the broad straw
hat but curling black beard, tanned
cheek, and two piercing eyes.
what IS TO pay?"
Nothing"
He offered hand to help Dora into
the carriage.
She seated herself and drew out q
little embroidered portemonnaie.
81 beg your pardon" she said, ear
nestly, "but you must let me pay you.
You said you were in hurry; we have
taken your time, and you have done us
| great service. i have nothing but a
half-sovereign. Pray take it. 1 am
sorry it is so little" blushing, as she
| rendered him shining coin.
4
eyes--they had world of meaning in
them, those piercing dark eyes under
the hat-brim. Dora felt her heart thrill
| strangely.
1t relieved her greatly that the man
extended his hand aud received the
money.
Thank you," he said, quietly.
sWhat may your name be?" asked
Ada, who had led herself unassist-
ed, land your occupation You are quite
handy" patronizingly.
The man laughed outright, low,
mellow laugh.
My name does not matter; I am a
farmer. Good-day, ladies'"
He stepped back, lifting his hat,
smiling again at the look of consterna-
ton upon the features of the girls at
the grace and the face the movement
revealed.
4 kingly brow shaded by close
clipped yet beautiful hair, white fore
head, eyes dauntlessly bright, with
scorn and smile in them.
The phaeton turned one way, the hay
wagon another.
"Whoever thought that he looked
like that, under that old hat, in hay
cart?" said Ada, breathlessly. "Who
can it be2 How provoking he was
right down gentleman, though he said
he was only farmer"
Poor Ada! Her modification had
just begun.
That evening, with silk hat dotted
from the handsome head faultlessly ar
rayed, Mr.. Allen Waters presented
himself in the little parlor of the Hol-
! lyhocks. and, introducing himself,
begged leave to inquire If the young
ladies' had reached home quite safely.
Ada apologized quite eagerly and
tried to be sweet, but Mr.. Waters
seemed to have eyes only for Dora's
brunette face.
He came again and again to the Hol.
lyhocks, and at last one day boldly de-
clared himself Dora's lover.
"You have known mo hut such little
while, You don't know half my faults, y
murmured she.
II don't care if / don't" he laughed.
Il love you, and have loved you ever
since you offered me that half-sovereign
so charmingly, blushing and ashamed
of the small sum. Why, you little
darling, do you know your appealing
dark eyes kept me from meeting a man
who would have paid me hundred
pounds that day?"
"And you never got IL" cried Dora
aghast.
"No; but that does not matter
have your half-sovereign, and had rather
have it,"
Such an incorrigible fellow as that o
course had his own way, and Dora be
came Mrs. Allen Waters. She love.
her husband because, under all circum
stances, she finds him gentleman
And Ada is in the sulks.
Keeping Cid Letters.
A plea for the keeping of old letters