The Somerset reporter., 1885-03-04
sKowHEGAN ME-, WEDNESDAY, NOON, MARCH 4, 1885.

Inc Deacon glanced mechanically up &c
the clock. Mary felt the blood growing
cold in her veins.
"TweDty minutes past nine-why, u
must be later Than that! Why land Of ia.
naaD, the old clock has stopped" The nlc
clock has stopped" The old clock bad
stopped; nor was it 1T all wonderful urd.I
the Circumstances. II wound IL up thi,
mornin, I'm sariiu,' said the deacon, very
much disturbed. at never saryed me
such trick afore all the years it's stood
there. Your aunt Jane used to say it VA.
a sign OF death or marriage In the fnmils
before the year was out"
There was suppressed SQUAD like 8
chuckle, behind tue clock-case as Deacon
Shermer funbled 90 the shell. for the clock
key, "These springs must be out of or.
der somehow" said the deacon decisiyely.
"How scared yon look, child! There ain't
no cause for bcin scared. don't put
much faith IN your aunt James old timc
superstition. Where in the name Of AL
posessed-is The key? could ha declarel
1 l left II III the case"
''Isn't it on the shelf, father?" asked
Mary, guiitily, conscious that it was snug
ly reposing in the pocket of her checked
eiogham dress.
mo, nor faint In my pocket neither.
And down went the deacon, stiffiy enough,
on his knees, tt examine the floor, lest per.
chance the missing key might have faieu
| there.
.'Well, never know'd anything so
strange in all my life," said the deacon.
at is r ally strange" faltered hypncriti-
cal Mary.
"Ill have regular search tomorrow,
said Deacon Shermer. at must be some
where around"
| eyes, it must" said Mary TREMENDOUSLY
| "Only," the deacon went on, slowly, re-
Stunning his place before the fire, 81 kind O.
don'l like to have the old clock stand still a
siugle night. When wake up. you know,
1t seems like 1t was sort U talking To me in
the stiffness" The deacon looked
thoughtfully at the fiery black log. Mary
| ddgeted uneasiy about the room, straight
ening table covers, setting back chairs and
| thinking-oh, if he would only 20 to bed
| AS he sat there his eyeids began 10
| drop aud his head to nod somnnlently.
| Mary's eyes frightened up with a sparkle
something like hope.
"Child!" he said, suddenly Strengthening
| up In the stif-backed chair, YOU'D better
go to bed I'll sit up a while longer till
the logs burn out"
"But, father, I'm not sleepy"
"Go to bed, my child" reiterated the
| deacon, with good-humored uihoriy
that brooked no opposition; and Mary
crept out OF the room, ready 10 cry wi h
anxiety and modification.
"If Tim will only keep quiet little
while longer" she thought, sitting on the
stairs while the newly risen moon streamed
in chilly splendor "Futarr sleeps SO
sound ly-and he is sure H. go to sleep in
his chair | could just steel IN and release
him as quietly as possible" She sat there
her plum fingers iIterlaced. and her eyes
liked Oh eamily on the floor, while all tn
time her ears were strained To the utmost
capacity to catch every sound in The ktch-
en- beyond. Hark! was thai the wall of
the wind, or WAS it something to her liter
ally nearer and dearer? Ycs she could
not be mistaken now; it was actually 4
snore.
Mary rose softly to hr feet with renewed
hope. Surely now WAS the accepted time.
Noiselessly as the floating shadow she
crossed the hall, opened the kitchen door
and stole across the creaking boards of the
floor. The candles were burned out, but
the shifting lustTe of the freight revealed
her father nodding before the fire, with
closed eyes and hands hanging at his sides.
Giles certainly asleep" thought Mary.
With o heart that hrat quick and FAST
she drew the key from her pocket aud pro-
| ceeded, in spite OF the nervous trembling
| OF her fugers, to lift it into the lock. So
| absorbed was she that she never noticed
the cessation of the heavy breathing
never saw the deacon start suddenly Into
wakefullness and look around him. Love
| is blind, and it is equally true that he is
deaf. The deacon rose quickly up with
shrewd twinkle in his eyes, and hand fell
softly on her arm, Possessing itself quiet
| ly of the key.
"Let me help you, said the deacon
Father, IL found the key" falterei
Mary, "and-"
'Found the key, chr returned the dea.
con, swell, that's lucky; and now we can
find out what's the matter with the clock. ="
Mary's hear, throbbing 20 wildly mo-
ment ago, seemed To stand still as her ia.
Their turned the key aud opened the door Of
the clock case.
"Hal-lo" exclaimed the deacon, as
Mr.. Timothy Marshall tumhled into The
room. So you was the matter with the
clock, ebp"
eyes, sir" said Tim, composedly. Il
hope l haven't seriously inlerfered with
the works of the clock"
"You've seriously interfered with met
said the deacon, waxiog indignant.
"What do you mean, sir, by hiding in my
house like a thi.f?'
"Indeedl JUDGED! father" cried Mary,
bursting into tears, ait wasn't his fault.
He didn't want 10 hide, bu. | put him
there"
"You did, Ell Aud may ask what for?"
"Father," faltered Mary, rather irrele-
vanity, II love him 4nd-hs iuves me.
as that any reason who he should hide
10 the clock CASE, Miss?"
"No-but-iather. no. father! | can
never marry MIR Stanley. He is so soft,
and l."
Mary's tears finished the sentence for her.
The deacon looked down (uot unkiDdly) on
her bowed head and the tender arm that
supported ii. Apparently, "the course of
true love-" roughly though IL ran, was ov-
erwhelming Vii his own worldly wise ar
rangem, hts n its tide.
And so you two young folks really
think ycu love each otherg" said the dea-
con medita;isely.
II love her win all my heart aud soul,
SIR said Tim Marshall, earnestly. I'm
not rich, know, but | can work for her y.
And can work for myself, too. faith
err" iuterposed Mary, with eyes that seone
like sufjeu' d stars.
"Aud you said yourself, sir" went on
Tim, 'thai the stopping of the clock meant
either, "a death or marriage Vi course
we don't want any death; so don't you
think the most sensible thing we can do is
to help on n marriage ms soon AS posslble!
The deacon laughed in spite of himself
"Il's ,a,e," he said. Come around to-
morrow morning and we'll talk about il.
No, Mary, I'm not angry with you, child.
s'pose young folks, will be Young folks,
and there's no use tryin' to stop them
As the deacon rehung the pendulum and
Sc, the iron tongue of the old clock talk
lug again, Tim Marshall paused GU the
doorstep 10 whisper to Mary.
"What shall it be, Mary, a death or mar
riage?"
And she in turn whispered, "a marriage,
l hope"
"My dar ling !" said Tim, "t's worth pass
ing a lifetime behind the clock-case to feel