The sun. [volume] (Morris, Stevens County, Minn.) 1882-1895, 1886-09-02

mum keep d brave heart lass. How is
thy motherp'
".She's no better. and asking for
father
"'Well. thou mum put her off, I've
III news for thee. por lass; thy mother
must know naught Of it. There's been
g bit of fight with them poachin' chaps.
an'-an' we've browt thy father
home
my heart seemed turned to stone.
is father killedp' asked. Thou may
a. we'll tell me. William
with that they carried father in
and laid him on the settle. He was
very very peaceful-like to look at
William said he had been shot in the
chest. and died quite quiet and easy.
But all the while l seemed to know
there was moro to hear-aye, and
worse, for, when was STOPPING over
father, one of the men said something
to William that didn't rightly catch.
and William says back to him, speak
ing low. Nay. there's no call to say
more to the poor lass; it'll do by-and-
bye With that they went away, and
took mother her tea, feeling all dazed
like.
"'Where's thy father, Eunice,' she
says.
"And l answered her:
"He's coming up presently, mother
and then she fell asleep again, being
| weak.
$50 the day wore on. and cousin An
ne came, and Squire Lawson and some
other gentlemen; but l didn't see them
for William was around again, and told
them all about father. When they
were gone I left Anne sitting with
mother, and went down to William and
asked him how it came about that faith
er was shot.
''There were bit O. fight with tn
poachers. lass, and one of them had a
gun
"'Was there only one gun, Will
liamP' l says.
"Only one, lass. dunnotthink thy
father was shot o. purpose. 1t war all
in the thick O. the bother. We were
fghtin' with ash sticks, an thy father
were in the midst, when the chap with
tn gun let fly at us an the shot hit thy
father. That's how it were done, Fun
ice.'
"'And where is he that did it, I
says. lookin' out O. the window.
He's away. lass. In hiding some
where. There's no call for these to
fret about that. Most like he'll get
away to furrin parts. I see thou
guesses who it is, Eunice. It's main
hard for thee, he says, taking my hand,
meaning kindly. for he was good man
was William. But I pulled my hand
away and ran out into the fields. 1t
was getting on for shutdown then, as I
leant against the fence, feeling sick and
giddy like, the corn crake began croak-
ing in the long grass as it had done
over night. And thought of yester-
eve, when Tom stood there with his
gun, and tried to turn him away from
those who led him astray. 1t had all
ended now; father was dead, mother
was dying. and Tom but would not
think of Tom. Then Anne came out
to me saying mother was asking for
me. So went in, and mother looked
at me and said
Thou art good lass. think thy
father is dead dreamt it just now
and thou art hiding it. IT'S no matter;
I shall know soon. The Lord bless you,
Eunicer
'.And after that she went into kind
of faint and died. So father and moth
er were both buried the same day, and
it was settled that should 60 and live
with my Aunt Deborah, some six miles
away. William was to drive me over
that same evening. Well, at shutdown,
all the things being packed and moth
ing left to do, went through the fields
to the side O. the brook, where I had
used to meet Tom. and there sat on a
fallen tree thinking of all the trouble.
and how all my life seemed dead and
buried with father and mother. Close
by me was thick clump O. palm, will
lows, and dog-roses, an grass all
a-tangle, reaching DER the bank; an
when I'd sat thinking awhile l heard a
rustling and q voice saying. 'Eunice,
lass! / knew the voice right well,
though it gave me a start at the mo-
ment.
"Is it thou, Tom,' asked.
"'Aye.' he says, parting the leaves
and looking through. I've been lying
here all day to get glimpse O. thee.
thought maybe thou would'st come
down here afore thou went off, an,
there's much that I've got to say to
theeP'
"1t may be much or little I an
swered him, but desire naught from
the, Tom. Dost thou know father is
deadP'
"'Aye, Eunice, but that was ill-luck.
l never meant to hurt thy father. It
were all done in tn hurry. I didn't
notice as he were among the keepers.
That's why nun run the country.
might stand to be took up it there was
naught against me but TIL birds; but
this O. thy father is q hanging matter,
SO I mum run the country. I'm going
on board ship tomorrow, and I've
brought the enow to pay thy passage
out to me, lass, and we'll be wed when
thou lands
Tom I says, it is not for we two
to wed now thou hast killed father.
wonder how thou canst think of such q
thing. Maybe trouble has made thee
dazcd like
| ~ didn't 60 for to kill thy father,
he says angrily.