The Warner sun. (Warner, Brown Co., Dakota [S.D.]) 1885-1???, 1886-07-02
THROUGH DEVIOUS WAYS.

The tenacious leaves OF the oak still
clung to the branches, but down the
paths of the garden the leaves from
the shrubhery danced their fantastic
dance Of death. At the door Of the
house the wind waited like q sheriff to
force an entrance. Within, four COus-
ins sitting together in the gray dusk
were talking on subject as full OF
matter to them as the evening was OF
damp. The stove had not yet been
put up for the winter, and muslin cur
tains hung limp at the windows, and
the colorless walls looked like mount
ing sheets OF mist, shutting them out
from all warmth, and comfort and
gayety. A smell of mildew came
up from the hay under the car
pet-a red and green carpet, polluted
by the touch of feet only Sundays and
company days. A black-walnut CEN
tre-table, uncovered, with four pain
fully bowed legs, supported the htera-
ture of the househoId-a photograph
album, a Bible carefully preserved, d
collection OF ethical essays known as
the Golden Treasure OF Thought" "
and supposed to be adapted to all
the needs and temptations OF the
human soul, and volume of miscel-
laneous poems which bore emblazon-
ed in gold upon its faded blue sides
"Pearls from the Poets" In one cor
ner of the room stood black horse
hair sofa, which sloped so violently
towards the front that any one trust
ing himself upon its slippery surface
was obliged to cling to the back as
sailor does to rope in high seas. The
cane-seated chairs placed geometrical-
ly against the walls of the room, were
somewhat disarranged now by the
shivering persons, two of whom sat
wrapped in plaid shoulder-shawls, with
their elbows upon the centre-table. a
girl a little older than these paced up
and down the room with her arms
folded behind her. She did not look
old; there were an activity and anima-
tion about her that seemed to defy
even the eencroachments OF an October
in the Northern Peninsula OF Michigan
The last member Of the quartet was a
thin young man with a patient. cadav-
erous face such as isolated farmers
often wear.
SThe land amt worth 50 an acre,
he was saying to his companions, tand
] don't know as we'll have another
such offer as we'veg got now. We might
as well sell and done with it. never
was no hand for breaking up wild lands
anyhow.
s'Nor T." exclaimed the girl who
was walking the floor mischievously
But no one paid any attention to
her.
1t might give Hattie and Nora a
start down In town in the millinery or
dressmaking business or something
light and genteel Neither of 'em ain't
much on farmin', an don't knows I
blame 'em much.p The girls referred
to sat silent, with that irresponsive-
ness of which only an American wom-
an is capable when she demurs 81
don't suppose David cares much what
is done with the land, but it wouldn't
be right for us to close the agreement
till he gets here, and he'll be here to-
morrow night at the latest. Thought
sure he'd come tonight. NY share
will give me boost over the winter,
for I'm not in state to sneeze at
ready money. What Margaret will
do with hers can't say"
II shall endow an asylum for indi-
gent cats, said the girl called Marga-
ret. 1t might 60 quite way if it is
expended for diluted milk, but don't
think there will be enough to do much
else with"
The cousins all looked littleshock-
ed at her fiippancy She was town
bred, and they had never gotten over
the idea that she might be little
dangerous. For q long time after her
mothers death she had kept house
for her father, but when he too died
she came to the country to live with
her cousin Seth. He and his sisters
lived on d vast tract of land which
their father had dignifed by the name
Of farm When, worn out with his
fight with the elements and the soil,
his narrow old soul had left his toll
worn body, his children found that
\ his farm was to be equally divided
between them; their orphan cousin,
Margaret, and the SON of his youngest
brother. This son was David, Of
- ~, x<t.41 !. lad o,,<.l,a,, ,,3 10 80 =