The Kimball graphic. (Kimball, Brule County, Dakota [S.D.]) 1883-1905, 1886-09-10
A CLOUDY DAWN.

teIl, as tne harsn, Gratlng, Dut most
summer-like of sounds came clearly
through the warm, still air this June
evening, mingled with the voices of
the children playing ir the garden.
Mrs. Hartley listened too, and look
came into her eyes as though she saw
some other scene than the sunny gar
den and fair, green fields beyond, and
the lengthening shadows cast by the
elms. their leaves glancing golden in
the setting sun.
l was sitting in the old-fashioned par
lor, with its heavy oak beams across
the ceiling. its dark, polished furniture
and old china bowls full of dried rose
leaves, and wide-open latticed windows,
through which foated the scent of mig
monet and pinks, while Mrs. Hartley
brought out the sweet homemade cake,
and the frothing new milk in quaint
mug of old china.
aye said Mrs. Hartley; "the corn
crake. So it is, Miss Nelly, so it is.''
Something in her voice struck mes
"Does it make you sad?" l asked
Il like to hear the bird, though it does
make such strange noise, it railways re-
minds me of summer evenings when
the grass is long"
"Yes, that's when it comes, you
never hear it after the grass is cut. 1t
reminds me O. my young days, Miss
Nelly"
[ mind well hearing the corn-crake
that summer that my mother died, and
l thought the sun would never shine
fair on me again, SO full O. trouble and
death was it-many long year ago
now was it, Mother had been ill
long while, and was nigh dying, for
her life seemed to 60 as the grass grew,
and we knew shc would never bide here
till the fall O. the leaf Father was
game-keeper, and we lived in that cot
tage by Northover woods. Me and
Tom Marsden-he was the blacksmith
at Northover-had been courting a long
while, with fathers consent, for Tom
was well-to-do and the forge was his
own. thought "A deal of him, for he
was good to look at, and strong; never
lad in the village could come nigh
him for looks and strength. And when
first knew him he was main steady
and we'll thought of by all. But there
was bad lot O fellows in Northoyer-
poachers and such like-and somehow
Tom got in with em. Father had spo-
ken to Tom about it for he said: its
40 good thinkin' tina can pla' wi mud
and keep thy own clothes clean; some
on it will stick for sure!"
Tom laughed, and told father he
could take care of himself, and, as for
catching stray rabbit or bird, it were
bit O fun on dark night, and no
harm in it either.
Says, father:
'Thou'lt not find it bit O. fun if I
catch thee at it
$50 they parted in anger, and father
came homo saying must think no
more O. Tom, for he couldna let his
lass wed poacher.
''This evening when the dusk was
talling.1 sat by mothers bedside think
Of it all. Father was in the woods and
mother asleep, SO the house was very
still, and all the windows open, for it
was that time O. year. And l heard the
corn-crake in the field nigh the cottage
IS plain as now, sometimes quite near
and sometimes father away, as it ran
about in the long grass. Presently it
stopped croaking as though something
had startled it, and then there was
little rattle about the lattice, like bits
o gravel thrown up. got up softly
not to disturb mother, and looked out,
and there stood Tom against the fence
with a gun in his hand.
"'I thought to have seen thee at
sundown, Eunicc. lass he said, I've
been waiting this half hour by the
brook.
"' couldna leave mother saws;
she's worse and weaker than while
back, and father has gone into the
woods. Hos main angered at thee,
Tom
80, aye. he says; "it's about the
birds. but it's naught.
| II shook my head.
Father says he'll not have me wed
thee if thou dost not mend thy ways
and leave going with them poaching
fellows. What dost thou want with
them? Thou never used to heed such
ike
"'Tis naught to fret about lass;
they're none SO bad as thy father
thinks. I'll get shut on 'em when
we're we'd
What art thou doing with gun?'
asked him.
Nay, lass, thou art getting too
curious. Maybe I'm going shooting
flittermice, he says. laughing
'Thoul't break my heart, Tom,'
says-'what with mother nigh TO death.
and father angered with thee, and thou
going on this gait.
M sorry thy mother is no better.
Eunice, he says, but as for the rest,
there's naught to fret about. I'll come
and see thee tomorrow
"And he went off smiling and wav.
ing his hand as he turned down by the
copse Then the corn-crake begar
AGAIN croak. croak, all round .the
meadow, and sat and watched mothe,
with heavy heart till the stars came
out, and young moon lying on hel