The Corvallis gazette. [volume] (Corvallis, Or.) 1862-1899, 1885-12-04

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to think of Lucindy's remembering me
all these years and sending her son to
see me. Not that | have forgotten
her-not a bit. Only with one thing
and another one hasn't time to think
and I went to the same academy,
and we thought sight of each other;
only somehow after both of us
married we sort of drifted apart.
Your ma she married wealthy city
man, while 1 got married to well-to-
do farmer, and so gradually We each
went our own way. Not to forget each
other though, as you see, and now, my
dear, excuse the liberty, but it comes
natural like, being your Lucindy's son,
I'll send one of the men down to the
village after your trunk, and you'll
just stop along with us and be as
welcome as my own son, if l had one,
and Marthy and l will do our best to
make you comfortable, and motherly
Mrs. Duncan laid her hand with an
approving pat upon Paul Dorseys
slightly stooping shoulders, while he,
coloring somewhat, endeavored to
thank her for her warm hospitality,
but was cut short with:
"Bless you, its no put out, we have
lots of room, and it will be real pleas
ure to me to see Luclndy's son max
ing himself to home in my house."
And thus it was that Paul Dorsey
became a guest at Willow Brook
Farm.
That evening after her visitor had
retired Mrs. Duncan said to her daugh-
| ter.
"Poor, young man, he hasn't got q
bit of appetite. l don't wonder Lu-
cindy is fretted about him. She writes
that he is always that taken up with
books, that she can hardly ever coax
him to go about with young folks and
enjoy himself. I've been thinking
Marthy, if you was just to kind Of
make believe you need his help now
and again about the garden and such,
it would do him sight of good, and
! he'd never suspect it was for the sake
| of his health," and Mrs. Duncan
| laughed a low, pleased laugh, at the
thought of the deception, while Martha
exclaimed:
"Why mother! you are getting to be
irregular conspirator. But am afraid
it won't work, he's $3.50 odd.''
Paul Dorsey had been told to make
himself perfectly at home; so the morn
ing after his arrival he withdrew from
the breakfast table to his own room,
and forthwith commenced to unpack
his books preparatory to good days
study. Everything was at last ar
ranged to his satisfaction, but some
how his thoughts were strangely wan
dering this DAY, although not a sound
disturbed the the cool quietness of his
surroundings. A pair of blue eyes
seemed to glance mockingly from the
musty pages hefain would master, and
he caught himself repeating aloud the
old-fashioned name of "Marthy,"
which took unto itself the sweetest of
sounds by reason of it's connection
with so pretty an owner. Suddenly,
with thud, the book fell from his
hand, as, exclaiming: "By Jove! that's
her voice." Paul Dorsey, with one
stride, was at the window making sad
havoc of the dainty dimity curtains
with his clumsy hands.
Martha, accompanied by tall,
stalwart fellow, was passing down the
garden path, her infectious laughter
floating merrily upon the balmy air as
she chatted away to the young man at
her side, who appeared to be enjoying
the subject under discussion as herself.
AZ they disappeared from view, Paul,
WIZ rather blank look, resumed his
seat and sought to apply himself to his
interesting task, but not with the old
ardor did he work, and for the first
time that he could remember, he list
ened anxiously for the bell to summon
him to luncheon.
The days slipped into weeks, and still
Paul Dorsey remained guest at Will
low Brook Farm, and it became no un-
usual sight to see him obediently fol-
lowing Martha's directions concerning
the uprooting of certain weeds, OF the
fastening of some vine more secure
ly about it's support. An honest,
brown tinge had replaced PauPs
once sallow complexion, and the
bookshelf, they had become Sec
ondary, q more potent charm having
outrivaled them. Mrs. Duncan con-
graduates herself upon her happy fore
thought that she was working such O.
change in her friends son, and Martha
admitted with slight blush, that Mr.
Dorsey was getting to be almost as
handsome as her cousin Joe-her beau
ideal OF manly beauty heretofore.
The sun burned scorching hot upon
the broad gravel path just outside of
the farms pretty parlor, but within
that quaint room restful coolness
held sway. Lounging idly in the
depths of a willow chair, was Paul
while Martha, seated at the old organ,
drew from it's aged keys low, plain
tive melody. As the last note died
softly away, whirling round upon
her seat, Martha exclaimed:
'fDo you know. Mr. Dorsey, you
have been wasting your whole morn
ing? don't believe you have look
ed at book for two days. last,
it must be owned, with slight air of |
triumph as she continued, penitently: |
'1 am afraid l have been to blame,
but tomorrow will leave you free to |
spend the whole day with your books, |
for Cousin Joe has promised to drive
me over to Dapleson to do some shop
ping"
HHanp Cousin Toa-t