The Wellington enterprise. [volume] (Wellington, Ohio) 1867-188?, 1886-06-09

" NNSEo
;he fence.
81 don't know why he's here in the
Flat, but know he's all right, He's
a good honest young man. l can see
from his face.
CHAPTER ~.
BILL MARTIN.
Two weeks of farm drudging had
passed. John Miles, the tireless young
farmer, and Walter Brownfield had
been comrades in labor. Walter had
grown sunburned, and his once soft
hands had become hardened with toll.
Those who had predicted that the pale
slender youth could not endure the
fatigues of farm work, little knew the
power of endurance in that delicate
frame.
Corn cutting was over, but the plow-
ing and sowing of winter wheat and
general run of chores kept the "boys'
and hired hands of Mr.. Miles busy.
Walter learned that labor was not to
be dreaded so much as he had sup.
posed. Ben Miles, with his droll wit,
lightened their hours of toll. The
youth found that he could sleep
sweeter after hard days work, and
each morning awoke with renewed
strength and vigor.
He was intrusted with a team and
permitted to do some OF the lighter
work, such as hauling from one por-
ton Of the farm to another.
II was rule of Mr.. Miles, as il
should be of every good farmer, to lay
in his supply of winter wood in the
autumn. His vast forest land furnished
fuel, and John and Ben Miles, being
most expert with an axe, were to fell
the trees, and cut them into sticks the
proper size for the wagon, while Wal
ter was TO haul them to the house.
Walter found this labor even pleasant.
To see the great horses display their
giant strength in drawing heavy loads
of wood was enough to excite the adj
miration and wonder OF any admirer
Of horse flesh.
One day he was returning from the
forest with large load Of wodd on hiS
wagon. The path he was travelling
was what he called woods road OF
sometimes u 'blind road" 1t was used
only in drawing wood from the forest,
which was about once year.l The re-
mainder OF the time Il was peI9nitted TO
grow up in weeds and brush. - 4
Walters mind had reverted ITO his
past life. and TO one sad event 9epecial-
iy. He began to feel that he was a
mystery to the good people among
whom he was thrown. His past his
tory he could not reveal without a
blush upon his cheek.
In this rural district as a farm hand
he hoped to live in quiet seclusion free
from the vile ISLANDERS OF the busy
world. He felt that his quiet unassum-
ing manners were winning place in
the hearts Of the people with whom his
lot was cast He could be happy here
If he could only forget the bitter wrong
that had been done him. But, try as
he would, the recollection Of it was
ever uppermost in his mind. 1t was
not with degree of hatred or malice
that the memory of the wrong re-
mained at his breast, but with feeling
OF sorrow, regret and humiliation.
Other emotions stirred his soul at times.
The story might follow him; and the
humiliation would be ten-fold greater.
The wealthy farmer would either dis.
charge him and send him once more on
his wandermgs or else he would be os-
tracised by the family circle and re.
garded with suspicion. This he could
not brook, and he had determined In
case of such discovery to once more &c
into voluntary exile.
A man came out Of the woods and
stood in the road few rods In advance
Of the horses. He was burly fellow,
strong, heavy-set, with dark tangled
hair and short beard. A face that In.
dicated long exposure 10 wind and
weather, also that the possessor Of II
was addicted to strong drink. He was
dressed in rough garb, half farmer
and half tramp. His pantaloons were
patched on the knees, and his weather.
beaten hat had hole in the crown.
He was certainly not very prepossess'
ing In his appearance, and character
no one would care TO meet In lonely
forest road.
Walter trembled in spite Of himself.
Although there was nothing apparently
hostile about the man, he dreaded
meeting him. The meeting could moi
be averted, for the stranger coolly
folded his arms on his breast and
waited till the team came up. There
was grin on the strangers face which
he intended for an assuring smile.
"Good mornin'," said the strange
man, his grin deepening as the team
halted opposite him.
Good morning, SIR" returned
Walter.
pheasant day fur teamin'"
"Very good, sir" said Walter.
''You work for Mr.. Miles, guessp
"Yes, SIR"
"Yer names Walter BrownfeldP"
Eyes, sir, and as you know mine,
will you be so kind as to inform me
what yours isp''
II am Bill Martin, an l work fol
Jack Hawkins, who lives on the farm
jinin' with Mr.. Miles on the road u
Bushville." f
II am glad TO get acquainted with
you, Mr.. Martin said Walter, "bui
you must excuse me now as my time Il
not my own; must be going" ~ =.