The Wellington enterprise. [volume] (Wellington, Ohio) 1867-188?, 1885-02-25

of all but muck and litter, with a
broken gate leading into rough field
road, all ruts and stones. Crossing the
cart-road just in front of the gate ran
footpath through the grass; and two
men, coming along the path from OPP
posite directions, had met precisely at
the entrance to the yard. ,
"Why, Marrish!' said he who came
from the east--a smart, good-looking
Young fellow, with bright face, a
ready smile, and something Of town
air about his look and bearing "Why,
Marrishl What brings you here of a
market dayP"
Business, my lad, business; that's
what brings me-" answered he from the
west. what else should bring man
anywhere, these bad times? But what
brings you7"
He was very different style Of man
from the other-over forty years old, at
any rate, and perhaps nearer fifty; a
working farmer, from his low-crowned
hat to his top-boots afteran ancient pat
tern, but lean and low shouldered, and
in many other ways not according to
the accepted model of his class nearly
eighty years ago. There was nothing
bluff or hearty about him, or any symp-
tom of generous fare. On the contrary,
he was lank and bony, and his cheeks
curiously, though not unhealthily, pale.
His face was not one likely to be readily
forgotten; though what physiognomists
would read in it can not venture to
say. / think, however, they would find
passion in the full, large, almost color
less lips and dull, gloomy eyes, and
power in the projecting brows and the
square chin. And therefore they would
be the more puzzled to reconcile with
signs of such generous qualities as pas
sion and power the pinched look of the
temples and the thin, vulture-like curve
of the nose. 1t was picturesque face
in its way, rs wholly free from British
bluntness as from British coloring; at
once calculating and passionate, bold
and mean; in some ways feeble; in
other ways strong. He might have
been fanatic or fnancier, as well as farm
er; but something beyond mere farmer
he must be, unless faces always lie.
The young man laughed. "Oh," said
he, 1--WE don't work at Millport every
day and all day long. We take a holi-
day now and again"
"AyeP Well, don't know much
about such things myself-time enough
for play when one can't workout |
wish you pleasant one. How does a
man get through holiday, if one may
be so bold?"
The other laughed again, and colored
little besides.
"Oh, somehow" said he. "Of
course, there's fifty ways-from the
very mischief downwards But, as you
say, it is hard to know what to do with
a few days. So thought I'd look up
Farmer Blackthorn-he was kind to me
when | was a lad-just for want of any
thing better to do"
"Oh! Just for want of anything bet
ter to dor " echoed Patience to herself.
"'Just for want of anything better to
dor A pretty reason, indeed, for a
young coxcomb to call on them that
were kindest TO him, just when they're
down! I'm glad the beers run out and
the milk skinned three timesr
"H'm!" grunted Farmer Marrish.
1--WE come over TO see Tom Black
thorn, too. But as mines business and
yours pleasure, you won't mind giving
me first turn, burst say?"
'"Not bit. You 90 in, and I'll have
stroll round. Don't look much like
high farming this, from the look of the
yard.
tom Blackthorn always was the
man for muck-specially in the wrong
place." said the man OF business, with
something like sneer. muck 5
money in the right place; but that's not
at mans door. Well, take your
stroll, Harlow. May be we'll meet
again before / 60"
Marrish pushed open the broken gate
and crossed the yard to the house door.
The young man leaned on the topmost
rail. and looked about him, little puz-
zled by what he saw. And, since he is
the principal person Of this story, i will
say at once that he was Stephen Har-
low. who had been left alone in the
world, at the age Of nine, by his father,
as drunken blacksmith as ever lamed
n horse or poisoned COW. 1t was
Farmer Blackthorn, Of Leys Croft, who
had saved the lad from the parish, and
had sent him out into the world to such
good purpose that, atthree-and-twenty,
he was already high in the service oi
firm of land-surveyors at Millport, 8
big town full two hundred miles from
his native village Of Merriam. 1t did
therefore, sound not little ungratefu
that he should come back 10 see his ben
efactor, and his old playfellow younl
Dick Blackthorn, not TO speak Of Pa
tience, Just because he could find moth
ing better to do. No wonder Patience
as she heard him, clinched her little ach
ing fist with indignation, and tossed
back her brown curls with scorn.
But what puzzled him was the genera
look Of the place, once so much tn
model Of all that was flourisbing; nov
so neglected and bare. The low, ston
house had a Naked comfortless sort o
look, instead Of the hospitable warmtl
with which il was identified in his memo
ry: The yard, all foul and Uttered
was silent, and empty Of man, beas
and fowl. Was It that his memor
played him false, and exaggerated il
own impression Of Legs Croft, TO b
disillusioned by becoming familiar wit
! MilInort a,J oil ita yloriasp II mich