Wichita eagle., 1886-08-28
lass. am one q them had a gun. =

| o. the bother We were fightin' 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,
Eunice"
"And where is he that did it" says, lookin'
out O the window.
"He's away, lass In hiding somewhere.
| There's no call for thee to fret about that.
Most like he'll get away to Turin parts l
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 pulled my hand away and
ran out into the fields. 1t was getting on for
shutdown then, and as / leant against the
fence, feeling sick and giddy-hke, the corn
crake began croaking in the long grass as it
had done over night. And thought of yes
tereve, 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 and mother was dying, and Tom
| but l would not think of Tom. Then Anne
came out to me saying mother was asking for
me. So | went III, and mother looked at me
! and said:
Thou art good lass l think thy father
+ is dead-I dreamt it just now-and thou art
/ hiding it. It's no matter; 1 shall know soon.
! The Lord bless you, Eunice!"
And after that she went into sort O faint.
and died. So father and mother We're both
/ buried the same day, and it was settled that
/ should go and live with my Aunt Deborah,
some six miles away; William was to drive
me over that same evening. Wen, at sun
down, all the things being packed, and nothing
j left TO do went through the fields to the
side o. the brook, where | had used to meet
Tom. and there sat on fallen tree, think
I ing of all the trouble. and how al my life
seemed dead and buried with father and
mother. Close by me was thick clump o
palm, willows, an dog roses an grass all
a-tangle, reaching Ger the bank; an when
1 I'd sat thinking a while, l heard a rustling,
an u voice saying, "Eunice LASS" 1 knew the
voice right well, though It gave me a start 1t
/ the moment.
rs it thou, Torn?1 I asked
Aye" he says, parting the leaves and
I locking through. I've been lying here all
day to get a glimpse o thee. thought may
/ be thou wouldst come down here afore thou
went Off an there's much that I've got to say
/ to thee"
! 1T may be much Or little" 1 answered him,
/ 'but l desire to have naught from thee, Tom.
! Dost thou know father is dead.7
/ Aye, Eunice; but that was ilI-luck.
never meant 70 hurt thy father It were all
done in tn hurry | didn't notice as he were
among the keepers That's why l nun run
/ the country | might stand to be took up if
there were naught against me but til. birds,
but this O thy father is hanging matter, so
| mum rUn the country. I'm going on board
/ ship tomorrow. and I've brought thee enow
to pay thy passage out to me, lass ard wen
be wed when thou lands.
/ Tom | says, its not for we two to wed
now thou hast killed father. I wonder how
thou canst think o such a thing. Maybe
trouble has made the dazed-like."
Il didn't 80 for to XII. thy father" be says,
angrily.
That don't make 10 difference" l says: 1T
was thy wrong doing that caused thee TO be
going with pcachers, and with 4 gun in thy
hand. Thou vast warned, an thou paid 10
heed | can never wed thee, Tom. l told
thee thou'd break my heart, and now thou'st
done it."
And l burst out crying, for it was al more
than l could bear. Tom came out o the
thicket and began saying something; but
didn't heed what it was, being so miserable,
when suddenly William came up beside me,
and put his hand on Toms shoulder.
"I'll not LET on as I've seen thee, lad. ne
said: but thou nun make thysen scarce.
Eunice is right: there can be no wedding be-
/ twixt You Thou mum go; and right sharp,
too7
Tom stood silent for a moment, and then
he said, quite quiet:
Wei, good-by, EuIlice, if SO be thou means
what thou says"
Aye said, Il 90 mean it, Tom. It's
/ good-by"
! "Good-by," he says again, and turned of by
/ the col)se; and that was the last ! ever heard
or saw o Tom asrsden.
/ | was full O sorrow for many a long day
after that. and thought nothing would seem
/ fair and pleasant to me again. But at last
began to sec | should never have been happy
woman with Tom. Everything IS for the
best. Miss Ecsy, though we can't see it ct TIE
time So when, at the end of two years. John
Hartley asked me to marry him, 1 said yes.
and | have never repented. Only when
hear the corncralla it brings back to me those
old days.
Mrs Hartley ceased, and we sat silent a
little space. The elm trees were casting
longer shadows, the sunshine was more
golden. the evening primroses were opening
their yellow eyes. the corncrake had gone,
ana the ehildrcn's voices sounded nearer and
/ clearer Mrs. Hartley smiled happily.
Il often think" she said, "of the old saying
Many a cloudy dawn brings IN a brigh;
day '"-Houschold Words.