The Wellington enterprise. [volume] (Wellington, Ohio) 1867-188?, 1886-06-09
binding them diagonally took the tops

lnd even rapluly growing arouhu nm
A clear spot. He began to initiate the
example of John Miles, with a partial
success.
He was as awkward in this as John
Miles would have been in drawing
room, and the warning cry of 'look
out for your shins" frequently came to
his ears.
But after short time he became
more skilled in the use of his heavy
sword, and found that by ordinar.
care there would be no danger of even
a slight wound.
Shock after shock Of tall stalks rose
in the field, leaving broad trail be-
hind them. Ever advancing into that
impenetrable jungle and sweeping all
before them, the young men moved on
without stopping.
John Miles seemed to work faster as
he became warmed up to it, and Wal
ter Browniield in his youthful ambition
strove TO keep pace with him.
The sun rose higher in the heavens,
and the morning, which at its birth
was cool, grewwarm before twas one
fourth over.
The hotter grew the day, the faster
John Miles worked. His strong arm
seemed never to tire. Starting in with
a merry whistle he kept it up through
the entire day. The higher rose the
sun, the hotter the day became, the
faster he worked, the shriller sounded
his whistle over the field.
Walter made manly effort to keep
pace with him, but found that impos-
sible.
The perspiration streamed down his
heated face, and even through his
shirt. The corn blades chaffed his
neck and the side Of his face, until
every stroke he made caused intense
pain. But he had started to do or die,
and made no complaint. On the road
was weary tramp and starvation; here
was labor and pain, but food and shell.
ter. He contrasted his pleasant labori-
Gus condition, with his life of few
months ago. How different. How he
had been humiliated. The sense Of
the great wrongs he had endured,
seemed to steel his arm and rouse his
fainting spirits.
Try as he would he could not COM
pete with the robust son of his employ
or. Like raging hurricane John
Miles swept around Walter, leaving
naught but the bare field, while the in
experienced youth was struggling with
q few hills Of corn.
Would that arm never tire, would
that piercing whistle never ceaseP
thought Walter, as he struggled to
keep up with the young farmer. John
saw that he was doing all IN his power
to keep pace with him, and knowing
that no farmer in the entire fat could
do that, he did not attempt to hurry
him. Thus hour after hour passed.
To the painting Walter, 1t seemed
ages; John Miles seemed TO gain un-
tired strength and rapidity with each
stroke. His blows fell faster and he
heaped the corn up higher while his
whistle sounded louder and shriller
upon the morning air.
They had Deen continually advanc-
ing into the dense wilderness, and there
had seemed no end TO it. Not breeze
was stirring or could stir in that dense
corn, to cool the brow of the almost
fainting youth.
At last when his head grew heavy
and throbbing, when he was dizzy
from heat, and felt as though he was
chilly instead of warm, they suddenly
burst through the wilderness, and a
neat little farm cottage that stood in
grove Of elms and oaks, was just across
the fence.
Lets 90 to Uncle Dams and git a
drink" said John, as the last shock
of fodder in the row was completed,
sticking the knife in the ground.
Walter was willing TO do any thing
which promised momentary respite
from the sultry heat of the burning
sun.
The sweet, cool breeze came to kiss
his forehead the moment he emerged
from the tall, dense corn.
They climbed the fence, and walked
through the grove Of elms to the cot
tage door.
A pleasant-faced old man. near sixty
years Of age, was sitting on the front
porch in his large, easy armchair, en-
joying the cool breeze that swept
round his cottage.
Hello, John, ye have been at
work this mornin'P" said the old
gentleman. "Who's this ye got with
YEP"
"This is our new hand, Walter
Brownfeld," answered John with his
native awkwardness.
"Wall, how dye do, WalterP" said
the old gentleman, arising and ex-
tending bis hand TO that individual.
/" You boys must sit down on the
porch, for l know you are hot and
tired; take cheersP" and he placed
two split bottoms for them.
"We're nearly choked for drink,
Uncle Dan" said John.
"In course ye are; might knowed
It; Jest sit still an I'll 20 an git some
fresh water from the spring"
The old gentleman put on his hat,
took his cane and went into the cot
tage, where he told bis wife, pleasant
old lady known all over the fiat as
Aunt Margaret, to hand him the water
bucket.
Aunt Margaret came out to talk to
the tired boys. The awkward John
Miles did not attempt another intro
duction, so Walter was compelled 10
sit in embarrassing silence until the
motherly old lady asked him his name,
where he was from, all about his par
ents, and numerous other questions FAR
more embarrassing than the silence.
Uncle Dan returned with a cedar
bucket (they call pail bucket in the
WesD full Of cold water, and gourd.
Walter was sure he never drank water
50 sweet, so clear and cold, and had not