The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1885-10-07

"No," said Tom; "beside, If it is, all
the better. Well get into the woods
before they catch us. We shall be out
of the town by daylight"
Then they walked on-poor Jane
stumbling often, but Tom held her hand
and did not let her fall. At length the
last little white house was passed; then
came the church with its tall St ire. and
then long pa!ing fences about bits of
meadow land. They were in the country,
but not yet in the woods, and both chill
dren were growing very sleepy ana very
tired-so very tired that finally there
was nothing for it but to sit down on
the grass under haystack, with Toms
head on James knee, and 90 fast asleep.
Sunrise awakened them. They ate
! their bread ana butter, started on again.
and in a few hours the woods we're all
around them.
"We'rc safe at last" cried Tom. "No-
body can ever find us here. I'll build q
house and plant my corn right away.
DO YOU know how long it takes corn to
grow2 And bcansl"
"No," ventured Jane, doubtingly-
mot long, guess"
81 guess not, : echoed Tom; but /
wish we had some more bread and but.
ter"
By-and-by the two explorers came to o
nice little spot in the woods close to
pretty brook. 1t was very damp, but
there was a clearing which it was easyto
plant. Tom dugit over with his fire
shovel, and put in his beans and corn in
straight rows. Then, with an old knife
that was his greatest treasure, be cut un.
derbrush and low branches enough to
make a queer kind of lcafy hut big
enough for both to creep into.
owe can cat outdoors. We shall only
want home at night and when it rains,"
said Tom.
But Jane felt doubtful. Her little flesh
was black and blue already, and yet the
grass was long in the bayfield,; here 1t
was sparse and dry. Beside, she wanted
her warm milk and water and her slice
of bread and butter. Tom found some
huckleberries hard by, but they did not
help the empty stomachs much, and even
at sunset the corn had not begun to
grow, neither did the beans show their
heads above the earth Suddenly an
awful thought struck Jane.
"Whcn it grows, Tom," she cried,
''we haven't any saucepan to cook 1t H."
"More We haven't" said Tom. Then
hope dawned upon him. 1--WE could
roast the corn," said he; land I bet
there's an apple tree somewhere.
They wandered about looking for the
tree or more berries of some sort. The
tree did not appear, but at last they
found some berries Just one or two alta
timc-and the poor children had nothing
else to eat. Hungry Tom could have
devoured his own shoes. Meek Jane,
before she lay !down 'on the hard yet
damp ground. asked just one question:
"Do you think the beans will grow to-
night, Tom2"
II told you to say Husband" said
Tom; then added, graciously, "Yes, Ma,
I suppose they will"
Then Jane put the "child" close to
her cheek, and slept the sleep of the
weary.
Good Farmer Morton and his plump
wife, coming homeward from visit to
their married daughter about dark next
day, let the old mare walk as slowl ly as
she pleased through the wood-path.
They had had tea and were in no hurry.
Suddenly, amidst the sobbing of the
little brook the old lady heard louder
sobbing still.
"Peter," she said, "therc's child
crying"
"I'isn't nothing but the water" said
the old man, whose hearing was less
sharp than his wife's.
Its child" persisted the old lady.
II VOW, think see one sitting on the
fence. Stop the mare, Peter! Who is
there?"
"Mc, ma 'am-Jane," said little voice.
II heard a carriage and l thought it
might be doctor. Oh, please he's so
sick!"
who is sick, dearl" asked Mrs.
Morton.
"My husband"
Husband? Peter, isn't that chlldz"
YES, ma'am," said Jane; "but he's
sick. don't know what ails him. He
shivcred, and then he was hot, and he
seems so strange. And our farm didn't
come up-I mean the corn and the beans
and it rained yesterday, and came
through the house and wetted us all over.
Oh, please come and see what is the
matter with nv husbandn'
"LorG, preserve u.s." cried the good
old lady: ''is that child crazy2 Come,
Peter, let's see what she means"
And the two good people followed
Jane to the damp spot where Tom, sud-
denly smittcn with aguc, lay delirious,
half in and half out of his leafy hut.
He could say nothing, and Jane. mind
full of the warning he had gwen her over
and over again, would tell nothing OF
the poorhouse, and only said they "had
no parents" and that she was his
"wife"
"VEherever they come from we must
take 'em home to night" said Mrs.
Morton. "Poor babies You carry the
boy, Peter; I'll fetch the little gal"
Jane looked up thankfully into the
old lady's face, and said: "Wait, please,
till | get the child"
THE child?" cried Mrs. Morton.
Gland sakcs!'
Then Jane dived into the hut and
brought forth her doll, with its scorched
features and yellow robe; at sight of
which the old lady laughed so heartily
that she had much ado to get into the
gig again:
The children were comfortably housed
that day, and the whole truth was
coaxed from them at last; but no one
had the heart to return them to the poor
house. Jane staid with Mrs. Morton to
be brought up as ''help," and Tom was
apprentced to carpenter. The inno.
cent little family was broken up; and
'the child" carefully treasured i'll James
trunk-for soon she had trunk of hel
own and clothes to fill twas only 8
memento of the past.
So the yearS glidcd on. Jane grew a
tall, slim girl; Tom a big, brown young
man. There was no sign of being "town
poor about either of them. They were
wholesome, wcllfed, bright young peo.
pie as you would wish to see. But one
Saturday afternoon Jane, washing the
dishes beside the kitchen window, look.
ing up saw Tom gazing at her, and
blushed rosy which certainly was
odd in wife of so many years standing.
"Come to ask you to walk little, il
you WILL" said Tom.
1nnn nror,icnd To f.nmn nc cnnn No .tthe