The Worthington advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1874-1908, 1886-05-13

AAc % " HOE AoouoS mug WIN pearls
And swore to give away his gun.
She smiled to find her point was gained,
And went, with happy parting words
(He subsequently ascertained),
TO trim her hat with humming-b birds.
Helen Gray Cone, in the Century.
TOO RURAL.
Ernest Bond had met Lemuel Dark
field, handsome and accomplished
New Yorker, in sunny Italy. Beneath
the genial skies of that gentle cline a
friendship had grown up between the
two young men.
Ernest Bond was also an American,
with all the CHEEKY manners and agree
able speech of that people. When he
finished his course at college, his
health was so shattered that the doc
tors advised a trip to Europe. AS his
parents were merely well-to-do far
mers, they could not meet the expen-
SEES of such journey. But a rich
uncle, an eastern banker, with more
heart than the generality of the species
warrant, came nobly to the rescue, and
offered to defray his nephew's expen-
ses.
Ernest accepted his unclc's favors
on condition that he should be allowed
to do some work in the bank when his
health permitted. The kind uncle
agreed to that way of balancing &C.
counts. So Ernest crossed the Allan
tic, visited many parts of Europe, and
after years stay, had regained his
usual vigor and was coming home.
When Ernest made the announce
ment that he was soon to start for
America, Lemuel Darktield, being a
gentleman of wealth and leisure, ex-
pressed desire to return with him
and see Locust Glade, as the Bond
Farm was called, he being quite unac-
customed to country life.
An invitation to do so was soon ten
dered by Ernest, and the young men
returned together. They were seated
in hack, which was conveying them
to Locust Glade, when Mr.. Darktield
suddenly remarked
"What shocking taste some of our
country ladies have! See that young
lady driving without gloves" And he
pointed with his bamboo cane to a girl
who had just passed them, driving
barchanded span of fine horses.
Ernest did not notice the criticism
which Mr.. Darktield had applied to
country women. He was engaged in
looking over his shoulder, not at the
fair driver who handled the reins so
faultlcssly, not 1T the glossy-topped
carriage, but at the fine horses trotting
along the highroad 50 proudly
by Jove.' he calculated, I'D al
most be rash enough to bet snug
thousand that those are my fathers
horses. But who can that girl be
who was driving them? Mother did
not mention any young ladies visiting
her, and it wasn't Janet, the hired
girl
''Perhaps some female horse-thief
has been taking an inventory of your
fathers fine stock. and concluded to
relieve him of the care of so manv,''
said Darkield, smilingly.
Ernest laughed, aud saying all would
be explained when they reached bis
home, the subject was dropped.
Locust Glade was fine old place,
situated about a mile and a quarter
from thrifty little town. just now
in the golden glory of mild breezy
September afternoon it was delightful.
At least tho travel-stained gentlemen
both thought so as they were being
driven up a wide lane, thickly fringed
on each side with locust trees, the
feathery foliage of which cast one con.
tinuous, delicious shade all the way tc
the commodious farmhouse, it's pale
lead-color just family disccrnible
through the dense thickct of the
locusts.
After Mrs. Bond, a kind, motherly
woman of forty odd years. had greeted
her son affectionately, with a thanks.
giving silently waited to heaven fol
that sons return to perfect health, sht
turned to tho tall, bearded stranger
who stood in the background, coolly
noting everything that characterized
Locust Glade.
After tho greetings were over Mrs
Bond showed the young men their
rooms, where fresh water and clear
linen soon restored them to their usua
good spirits.
When they were seated in the COO
and neat parlor of the farmhouse, Mrs
Bond said to her son.
Your father is down in the meadow
moving. He did not expect you to
day, and he was anxious to finish cut
ting, the rain delayed him so much il
getting up the hay. He intended try
ing to meet you at the station she ex
planned addressing both tho young
men.
Darktield thought that his friend
mother was very commonplace wo
man. What poor taste in her to Dor,
them with farm subjects.
Country customs, l presume" h,
told his spirit of criticism.
Had he reasoned. he might have seel
at once that kind Mrs. Bond wished t,
apologize because no one had gone t,
meet them at the station. But he sum
moned up enough politeness to reply:
''Do not apologize, Mrs. Bond. Hal
you sent the carriage for us, we shou}t
have missed giving you the pleasure o
SURPRISE
"By-the-by, MOTHER said Ernest, "
was sure fathers carriage and horse
passed us as we were coming from tn
station, driven by young lady,
$50 you recognized the team?" sait
his mother, with a laugh.
Eyes, but who was the fair driver?'
asked the son.
The gloveless nymph.' said tn,
critical Darkfield to himself.
"Oh, that was Grace smilingly an
swered Mrs. Bond.
"And who is Grace?" asked Ernest
"Gloveless Grace! A country god
dess!'' thought the young city man:
"Grace Lovejoy,' answered Mrs
Bond. ''She is principal teacher of tn
village school, and a dear good cir
she is. She insisted on boarding here