The Abbeville messenger. (Abbeville, S.C.) 1884-1887, 1886-07-13

ed to recover something which sho haG
inadvertently let fall.
my handkerchief, ma'aml"
Mrs. Pilkington made a grasp at it.
"Your handkerchief" she screamed.
"Mine, you mean-minxl thief! good-for
nothing!-my pongeo~ handkerchief, thai
you awe stolen right out of my bag
Well, I never!"
She shook Phoebe vehemently. Phoebe
began to cry in mingled terror and re.
sentiment, and just then up drove the
farm wagon at a gallop.
"Hello, mother ~ said Ezra Pilkins.
toms cheerful voice. ttTm afraid I've
kept you waiting a bit, but tho linchpin
cam out of the wheel, and I had to stop
at Tony Deephill's to get it fixed. Now,
then"
He drove the stout pony close to the
raised platform which extended away
from the station.
Mrs. Pilkington pushed Phoebe into
the back seat, and followed her with
AShIhAuS udSCc.
"Not that way" she cried, grasping
at the reins, as Ezra would have headed
for the highroad. "Drive straight to
Squire Pulteney's. This gals q theft
I'm going to have her arrested before she
is a day oldcr!'
"Eh" said Ezra, staring from his
mother to Phoebe, and then back again.
"She's stole my spotted pongee hand
kerchief-my handkerchief that I bought
a bargain on Grand Street this very morn
ing" shrieked Mrs. Pilkington.
"it's-it's my handkerchief" faltered
poor Phoebe, feeling as if she were in a
terrible nightmare from which there was
awakening.
"a likely story" clamored the enraged
"Pve always heard of the
wlles and tricks of these city minxes, but
l never realized it until now. Drive on.
quick! She shall be lodged
in the county Jail this very n,ghtl"
care you sure you amt mistaken,
mother2" said kind Ezra, compassionating
the look of pallid misery in the young
face.
mistaken, indeed" shifted the old
lady. "Drive on, I say! Don't lose any
more time, or Squire Pulteney will have
gone home for the night"
She herself took possession of the reins
and she spoke and chirrupcd to the
horses.
"But, mother" pleaded Ezra.
Even as he spoke, however, poor
Phoebe, driven wild by vague terror and
IN instructive desire to escape, had flung
herself from the wagon to the ground.
"Stop-fo for heavens sake, mother.
shouted Ezra. 'Don't you SEQ
that her dress is caught in the wheelssn
The little horse stopped. He always
on general principles, whenever
A suitable opportunity presented itself.
and the very slightest 'eWhoaw would
invariably bring him to a dead standstill.
Ezra sprang from the wagon to Olsen.
the helpless figure in the dust, and
Mrs. Pilkington scrambled after with a
vague idea that Phoebe might yet get up
try to run away.
AS she jumped down her satchel fell
into the road, and bursting open
The ovcrstrained latch, disgorged its con-
;ents on the dewy grass of the roadside,
irst and foremost among which was-a
pongee handkerchief.
"Good Land o'Moses!" piously inter.
Iected Mrs. P~ilkington, eff there amt
he drafted old pongee handkerchief,
allp
And she stared helplessly, first at its
orim and u~ndisturbed folds, and then at
Phebe's handkerchief-exactly the same
n color, pattern and fabric.
"She amt a thief, arter ALL" said Mrs.
her whole nature OVERLOADED
~ the rising tide of rcmorse. 5000,
:hild! and I'm afeard she's hurt a-tryin'
run away from nothing at ALL"
Phebe's ankle was slightly sprained,
hat was all, and by this time she was
bile to smile and answer kindly Mrs.
oilkington's numerous questions and con.
lolences.
"Can I ride homc7 Oh, of course ]
!" said she, in reply to Ezra's interro.
"My ankle is only the least bit
Old Farmer Pilkington was anxiously
out for them, when, considerably
alter than he had expected, the wagon
up and Mrs. Pilkington made haste
explain everything to him.