The Press., 1885-09-17
DOROTHY'S TOBACCO.

run the farm with any man on shares I've seen enough of that in fathers time. It was always the man got rich and father that lost"
 'You won't, eh? ?" said silas Green. red-s dening angrily.
 ''No," said Dorothy, .I won't r
 '"Then I guess you and the children will starve, growled Silas. Anyhow I guess nobody'll feel sorry for you.
 ''Its very we'll to talk about sympathy and help and all that sort of thing" said Dorothy Mallard. "But when it comes to actual business, I've observed that every mans hand is for himself. "
 "But no woman ever made farm pay, /" said Silas Green, sullenly biting the end of burnt match
 "Well, anyway, mean to have try at it." said calm Dorothy.
 She was not quite twenty, this positive young female-a tall, well-made woman, with bright, gray-blue eyes, D healthy red and-white complexion and very dark brown hair, brushed straight away from her smooth forehead.
 She was no city damsel, whose ideas of life are limited to six-button kid gloves, opera matinees and walks on the sunny side of Upper Broadway, but straight forward, business girl, who knew every de- tail of farm life, and could tell just when rye ought to go in and carrots come out.
 Her father had been complaining" as the country-folk phrased it, for years and now that he was dead, Dorothy felt a new avalanche of care descending on her. For there were four wistful-eyed little girls and one delicate boy to be provided | for.
 Silas Green and Dorothy Mallard had never been regularly engaged But it was an understood thing in the little communi ty that they. belonged to each other. They had "kept company ever since Dorothy had put her hair up behind with D comb. And Slas had perhaps learned to domineer little in good-humored way. Consequently he did not approve o1 this new outcropping of Dorothy y's. inde pendence.
 "Td marry her in a minute if she'd heal to my way of doing things" said he to be bound out. I know plenty of gooc sensible women who would give then their board and clothes for the work they would do. And, as for the boy, we would not quarrel about him. There's lots o odd chores a boy like that would be usefu for"
 But Dorothy's eyes had flashed indigna tion when Silas had hinted at some sncf arrangement. a
 ''Do! p she said, bitterly. "send littls Abel to the work-house. That's the way to manage. And, as flor the girls, it's { pity we don't live in Singapore or Bombay or some places where they fling all th' girl-babies into the river before they ar' old enough to be in the way. I wonder Silas Green, what you take me for?''
 So Dorothy gave up all ideas of married life and set herself to work to earn liveli hood out of the old .farm.fe
 'Its no use my Thinking of wheat, ant rye, and potatoes, and those sort o things" said she. ssIt would require to, much capital, and too. many hands. Be sides, father used to say that the marke was overstocked. TIE put the big corr lot into tobacco. That's crop that wo man can handle. Old Jubal will help m, about the curing for mere trife; and IT lput some grape vines up those rocky ter races by the south woods, and the bil strawberry field is coming into fine bear ing this year. I'm glad I set out tn lyoung plants last June. and watered 'en all through the drought, And then there the young chickens. We never did hav such fine lot before And Polly, ant Chatty, and Bess, and Bell are old enougl to help deal and know that little Abe fcan at least weed strawberries and hell pick worms off the tobacco leaves, chilt though he is. He'll like to think he' helping, too. There'sa deal of ambition l in that lad" &.t-
 Old Jubal was rheumatic old coloret man who travelled around the country mending gtinware and re-caneing chairs I l.. whole neighborhood but, nevertheless Dorothys Mallary contrived to get som good heavy work out of him.
 ''H darss anyfing dis chile un 'erstan' s it's de car ob tobacco" said old Juba] "Doan you fret, Miss Dawthy I'll guar antee crop turns out fust best"
 And so Jubal took up his residence il the barn chamber, where he smoked him self into stupefaction of an evening, ana told ghost stories that made little Abel hair stand on end, between the pipe light ings. .-..-...
 ''An old nigger of seventy and 8 chilt of seven p jeered Sllas Green. "Wel see what sort of farming that is p
 Dorothy turned short around upon him
 "I believe," said she, with glitterins eyes, "that you would be pleased, Silas- yes, actually pleased-if I was to fail il this enterprise of mine"
 l "Well, I calculate it would teach you pretty good lesson, said he, disagreeably But as the time went on the young chickens grew as fat as if they had beer in Dorothy's confidence, and were secretly preparing themselves for the gridiron ant the spit; the ripening strawberries crim soned all the field :; the young grape root, stretched their green tendrils snnward and the tobacco waved it's monster leaves as if it fancied itself down in old Virginis instead of growing on rocky Rhode Islant farm. ........,... ......0...
 Dorothy Mallard worked late and early She herself took her crops into town witl ! with borrowed wagon and the old blini pony, which having been turned out ints the world to die by a heartless clam-vender had been led home and fed on juicy grass l by Abel and Chatty, and who had actually developed into Q sort of Indian summer O usefulness under the unwonted stimulus o plenty of food and bedding and kind treat ment
 | And the tobacco field won such renowl throughout the neighborhood that gen | tleman from Providence-a famous cigar manufacturer up one afternoon te look at it.
 '.Pretty nice 'backer, sah," chuckle6 old Jubal, who in his ragged working suit was working in the little plantation, witt an occasional pnll at a clean clay pipe.