Frostburg mining journal. [volume] (Frostburg, Md.) 1871-1913, 1885-08-08
cramming his head with knowledge,
and there's no stopping him."

III Cue evening wien jean lOlle
was sitting at her bedroom window,
the sudden remembrance of the gor-
geous envelope caused her to draw it
from Its hiding-place. The full
moon streamed into her little attic,
down on her face and the blotted
scrap of paper in her hand:
You have sent me away thinkin me
wickid as Kain. But eff ye'd red the
note Squeek Porter sent me, ye'd of sed
| did rite to lik him, wich I've don.
He writ all sorts of things bout you
and Jack, awfnl thing, but I've pade
him fur it with intrist. am goin
away, l don't no were, cause can't
bare noin you hate me. H. HARDIN.
"Poor boy. poor boy!' she mur-
INJURED, gazing at the dirty scrawl !;
the remembrance of the many little
things he had done for her the short
while she had been sole teacher of
the country school came back, while
his bad behavior was forgotten.
Many times had her name been
coupled with Jacks and Harry had
stretched the coupler upon the
ground, and presented himself before
her, black eyed, CORY, but victorious,
to be severely reprimanded. Now it
all rushed to her mind, and with a
sharp, uneasy pain, disturbing her
rest that night, and as itgrew strong
er destroyed all peace for many days
and nights.
The engagement with Jack was
broken off. His rough, ignorant na-
ture could not appreciate her finer
one, as finally jealousy superseded
all dellcacy, and when her many ear
nest pleas deferred the wedding day,
he came to her hot and angry, vow-
ing she never loved him, that all his
misfortune was traced "to the night
of the yellow envelope, and he had
better have died before he laid eyes
on her bonny face" left her and soon
dropped out of her life altogether.
Five years went by and time work
ed many changes on one and all.
The village school prospered under
the tuition of Jean, but such a
changed Jean! There was still the
curly brown hair, the soft brown eyes,
the firm cherry lips. but the white
round face that was wont to flash and
flame at the mlsdemeanors of the lit
tie rustics now was pale and thin,
just a faint tinge stealing over 1t when
some were unusually wild and trou-
blesome.
One evening in autumn as the red
sun kissed the tops of the trees good
night, Jean closed the school as she
had done in the long ago, and in her
slow, weary manner was coming
away, when a shadow fell across her
path, and, looking up, she found
tall, handsome man standing before
her.
81 beg your pardon, but you are
Miss Rolfe % he asked, raising his
hat. But she, at the sound of his
voice, had grown white to her very
lips, trembled from head to foot, and,
leaning against the wall, murmured:
at is-is-Harry!'
eyes, 1 am Harry" he answered in
the darkening shadows now seeing
her agitation, or mistaking the little
he did.
Jean grew white, as she noticed his
calm demeanor. "He has forgotten,''
she thought, call that his note i'm
plied.'
"You have been away a long time,
Mr.. Hardin. Allow me to say well
come home," she said at length,
though in choked, husky voice.
"Thanks, Miss Rolfe. 1 hardly ex.
pected you would be glad to see such
a rebel again for some time, though
during my exile believe I have rub
bed off some of my angles, and l hope
1 have learned to respect lady," he
continued, laughingly.
"Don;t you condemn yourself, Mr..
Har-" gasp. at was all mis-
take. am very sorry, and l have
bitterly repented." She would have
fallen but that he caught her in his
strong arms, his dark face illumined
by strong emotions.
"Jean, Jean, you repent! You led
me to think-oh, my darling, my
darling, you love me ev' he exclaimed,
as her arm crept softly around his
neck.
eyes, yes; Harry, you understand.
l am sorry you exiled yourself. l