Devils Lake inter-ocean. (Devils Lake, Ramsey Co., Dakota [N.D.]) 1884-1905, 1886-08-14
CHAPTER XXI.
THE Inn.

CHAPTER XXI.
THE GREYHOUND INN.
Through u fruitful land, bounded by blue
hills, in places dark with the soft grouping
of trees, and here and tLere q break of lus
trous water, went the white level road
that led to Winston, ccrnfields to right
and left, and tracts Of vivid green soar
ing, and the bland eye Of the ocean shining
between the two tall heights of cliff.
Along this road, with steps that offered nc
defiance to time, walked Jenny md her Ole
companion.
At last, coming to a turn Of the road-a
truly magnificent bend of lofty hedge, with
golden monuments of hay behind, and O
rich cool orchard beyond ~again-there ap
peared at the very bottom, or end of it,
rather, TO: level US q river it ran just here,
a gray stone front with ivy grandly en-.
dowed, and further on a row of little cot.
tages, with Il church to the right OF them,
pointing: Il flaming apex to heaven.
"Here we are, dearie" exclaimed Mrs.
Mead. winston at last! And the Lord
bless it for coming upon us just when Tn be-
ginning to think thy box here hath SOM
pounds o lead at the bottom ont"
"Let me carry it now" said Jenny, in q
painfully lanEulu voice.
"No, no. I'm still good for that bit q dis
lance. Dye see that board hanging up yon-
der2 That's the Greyhound; an if there he
no fire i the kitchen thatIl bile us a dish o.
tea, Sally'll have no more O. my love,
though it bain't six o'clock yet, if tho sun
don't lie"
A little inn was the Greyhound, to take the
eye in IL picture as Il sweet bit of rustic
painting, for simplicity inimitable. The
building stood looking up the great high
way, of which the road from Greystone was
but a vein or tributary, so to speak. From
the upper windows Of this inn the highway
could be followed, rising and falling in a
white line, Until to right and left it van
ished i'll Il tiny thread of white among the
blue shadows. This was the great road to
London from tie southeastern coast Of Eng
land, and the coaches that ran upon it were.
by Greystone travellers. met twenty-one
miles onward at a famous nlcient city, tt
which they were baHJ BY Mr.. Franklin's
coach, chosen often iii preference to this
stage of Winston, as it saved a walk or the
hire of q hackney coach, and it was a pleas
ant ride.
Paying small hee6 to the scrutiny of SLOW
Dyes at the windows and doors of the cot.
tages, Mrs. Mead, preceding Jenny, led the
way to the door of the inn, and finding il
locked, put down the box and pulled the
house bell hard.
They had not long to wait. A servant
newly risen, came to the glass, and after q
prolonged stare at Mrs. Mead's features
opened the door.
TELL Mrs. Walker that Judith Mead Il
come from Greystone to see her. And take
this here box and lead us to a room VII chairs
int, whites our legs have life in EN-, if ye
don't want the job of carrying of u.s." ex.
claimed Mrs. Mead. And the girl, thus ad.
monished, Kidding the old lady of her bur.
den, conducted her and Jenny into a parlor
to the right of the bar.
With a groan of WEAKNESS the old woman
tumbled herself down upon a chair and
Jenny sank languidly upon a sofa.
swell, if ever I should ha' believed Wins
ton to be so fart" exclaimed Mrs. Mead, lift.
ing her bonnet off her gray hair and throw
ing it upon the table.
"How do we feel, dear hearth Tired YOU
look as I niver see the like; but I have prom.
ised thee a good snatch o. sleep betwixt
breakfast and the coach hour, and that Yell
git. And here is Sally, whose mother I re.
mimber as the prettiost- WASTED wench i
this part o the country. Don't courtesy tc
me, my dear, for my bones'll not allow OF
my rising. How are yellow are vel"
She addressed these words to a stout,
kindly-faced young woman, who had come
suddenly into the room, and now stood star.
ing at and courtesying first to Jenny and
then to Mrs. Mead.
"Sally," continued the old woman. tive
have walked all the way from Greystone to
get a sup O. breakfast afore t. coach starts.
What have ye got i the house to comfort
tn inside of IN old. friend-and a lady,
whose beauty should make We proud to
sarve hers Speak out, my love, and niver
fear to name thy choicest. Is it n pretty
slice from a tender side o. bacon, with the
eggs which the hens are now singing over,
and Il pot O thy best tea, wi cream to give
it a dainty color? That will do-that will
do, Sally; but I'll not gil We a farden for il
all. if ye don't make the saucy wench, rs
ogled me through your glass door, brisk in
cooking of it."
"What! Mrs. Mead? Who'd liver ha'
thought Of seeing You this time o marning!'
cried Mrs. Walker in a rich, clear voice.
"Where be ye going by T. coach2 Not to Lun.
non, Mt thy time O life! Well. we'll! only
last night did l say to Roger: Next time thee
goest to Greystonc, see that ye fill the big
gest basket wi the largest gooseberrios for
Mrs. Mead. that she may know Sally is
alive and wishes her health How strange,
now! AM it's breakfast you're wanting al
once! That you shall have, an quickly.
Hi! Martial" she called at the door; and q
voice answered, "Here be, missis!" "Run
out and bring In what eggs We can find, and
fitscf cat f1,n l.iff1n o,, n,J - -
with %jackanapes Johnny, I'll know you by
my clock, which I am looking at now!
There's breakfast for two to get, and if
your shoes hinder ye from running, toss EN-
Off"
She looked back into the room with q
merry laugh. which died away on her catch.
ing sight OF Jennv's face, for til, girl had
lifted her veil. Observing the change of ex.
preston III her friends face, Mrs. Mead
frowned knowingly upon her. with an ex.
trelnely suggestive shake of the head, and
then begged for the loan Of a pair of slip.
pers. which Mrs. Walker Immediately went
to procure.
snow. mistress" said the old woman, in
her kindest manner. and hobbling over to
Jenny. Eye must make yourself comfortable
here, and there's no reason ag'in' it. A bet
ter hearted young woman than Sally there
is not in this world. Niver you heed her il
she looks at Thea. 1t will be your teauty
that fetches her eyes md nothing else; for
this is a house of call, and them who kapes
such houses soon loses all curiosity. You
shall breakfast and then lie down fer a mos.
sci o sleep. Why, my dear, what beautiful
hair is yours. IT'S like putting ones hand
on feathers, and just the color O the hair o
~~xrH~ ~ <I,1SrH lr~ s--- V
windows when tho sun shines through
them"
This bit of praise was provoked by bel
gentle removal of Jenny's hat; then she
slipped the shawl off the girls shoulders
md knelt down To faka off her shoas md