The Penn's Grove record., 1885-11-14

| will. and she thrust the beechnut
under her glove. When she looked
back after she had gone down the road
apiece he still stood there with head
uncovered as when she quilted him.
Had she looked later she would have
seen the young soldier rushing with
mighty strides in a direction opposite
to what he had all day been taking, and
il she had read his thoughts she would
have known that he was thanking God
he had met her.
One evening i'll midwinter more than
a year later, there were gathered about
the open fireplace in the living room OF
the Philips mansion the young women,
Martha, her little sister Ruth, and an
elderly woman, who was plainly the
mother. A tap at the door did not fail
to cause all three to start a little.
Troublesome times again had come on
| this part of the country. Rumors OF
an advance prevailed. Father and
brother had again set out with the con-
| tingent troops to repel a threatened in
vasion. However, Mistress Martha did
not hesitate to open the door. So far,
at least, their home had been respected
by both armies. There stood on the
steps a tall man, whose great coat was
| slightly sprinkled with the snow that
was beginning to fall. He did not offer
to enter until hidden; but he said with
great courtesy that he was a belated
traveller, compelled to ask shelter and
| food, If so be the inmates felt safe in
extending such Inequalities.
IBID the gentleman In, Martha"
said the mother, and when he had,
with exquisite grace, bowed and thank
ed her, he asserted that nothing but
the direst necessity would have com
PEELED him to intrude himself.
sThese are, indeed, sad times, sir,n
said the mother. ''Twice before my
husband and son have been called away
to defend their country. l know not
where they may be tonight, but tue
good Lord will protect them and u.s."
SIS there then disturbance in these
parts?n asked the stranger.
"Have you not heard and seen, sir,
and you a traveller"
81 had supposed the operations were
to the west, else l would not have VEN
tured on my journey"
The old lady glanced quickly at HIM
for a moment, as though wishing to
scan SO strange a person as this, who
did not know what was going on about
him, but neither by hint or word or
action did she betray any surprise.
The stranger was young and neatly
dressed in a heavy, close fitting sur
tout that reached to his top boots. HIS
hair which was long, fell In curly locks
almost to his shoulders, and it was of a
yellow tinge, almost approaching white
ness, The old lady at ono perceived
that whoever her guest " ne was a
gentleman, and as he addressed linn
self entirely to her she soon found her.
| self Interested in him, Though she
frequently referred to the topic that
was uppermost in her mind, be seemed
to care little about the war. The old
lady decided that he must be a mer-
chant from below, who had yentured
thus far toward the British outposts-
which then included the Phillips home
| stead-for purposes OF business. Mean
while Martha had herself prepared a
repast, OF which she at length invited
the stranger to partake. Then for the
first time he took note of the girl.
"We heve simple fare now," she
said.
1.-THE simplest fare has always been
my choice and habit" he said, and
then added: t'This must be alonely life
for you, though perhaps an exciting
one.n
"Not lonely when father and brother
| are here and when there is no war;
"Yom father and brother are in the
ield7n
Wyes air
sit is a pitiable lot for you indeedl"
sNo, sir; no indeedl We are glad we
have a father and brother to fight for
our country"
The stranger looked at her for a mo-
ment with such admiration as could
give no offence. Then he said: "That
Is indeed true patriotism.
She was silent for so long a time that
he stopped for a moment as he ate and
said:
us there, then, to be fighting pear
byp"
"Father did say to us as he went
away: There will be no general battle,
but we are going with the contingent
and regulars to cut off the approach of
the British They do expect by night
or tomorrow to have thrown up such
forts or defences as will head off the
| British, and as it is but IL miles away
where they do so at the Carmel cross
roads. maybe father and brother will
be home Saturday.
Here the stranger seemed much oc-
cupied with his meal. nor did he pause
in the eating of it until, seeming con-
| scious that some one was gazing ixedly
at him, he looked up and encountered
the steady eyes of little Ruth. He
smiled pleasantly and said:
"How, then, little maid do you, too
miss your father?"
t.You do make me think of my pic
tHre man. the child said.
"IIave you a picture mann"
1.-THE man who drew my picture.
Shall I show it to your"
Indeed"
The child brought not only her own,
but the crayon of her sister.
s.They are we'll done; well done, little
maid; but you have grown older since
this was made.
"Yes, a year older"
"a year, indeed said he, half med
itatively.
"My sister Patty, looks every day at
hers, and sometimes l do hear her say.
L wonder If / shall ever see him
again.'n
"Hush, Ruth, the gentleman cares
for nothing of that sort, " said Martha.
"But / am interested"
As they sat by the fire, later, chat
| ting, and while Martha was medita-
ting upon which of the two spare rooms
to put the stranger into for the night,
there was heard without sound that
rose above the moaning of the wind.
"What is that?n
The stranger fastened to the win
| dow, and even as he did SO the sound
grew louder and more significant. 1t
was the yell of maddened men, and
now as the curtains were tossed aside,
they saw a yellow light through and
beyond the thick falling snow flakes.
| The light grew brighter and brighter.
'It is the army" said Martha.
(which one?n asked the mother.
"The British. l think. Look, they
are burning Neighbor Keelers house.
They will come here. They have threat
ened before. They will burn the house
and they may kill us. See there, over
the hill; they are coming. There they
have set fire to the hay-Iick. Mother,
be calm, they shall not hurt you. |
will not let them" and the girl turned
-