The true northerner. [volume] (Paw Paw, Mich.) 1855-1920, 1886-02-11

ul AlLlNAA Va LILO ncW AA4atoN<A -
Locust Hollow, as the pretty village
was called, was regarded as quite an
event by the congregation. A pew min
lister is always an object OF interest to
the people for a month or two; then
the interest flags, and finally he IS ac-
cepted as a matter of course. and-gen-
orally to his delights no longer fused
over.
But this particular divine seemed
likely to keep speculation going for
longer period than the customary nine
DAYS, and. being somewhat humorous
fellow, he thoroughly enjoyed 1t.
For the Rev. jerome Grant was I'M
married by the gossips to
have no ady-love-young, handsome,
and possessed of private income.
which made salary secondary consid-
GRAFTON.
Now, in Locust Hollow there were q
number OF very plump and pretty
girls, with few slim graceful damsels;
but the plump ones outnumbered the
slim, as always is the case in country
villages, with their fresh air, healthy
diet and regular hours.
Among the very plumpest OF the vii
lace maidens was Gussie Elliston; and
Miss Gussie's blue eyes and red-and-
white complexion seemed to have
found favor in the eyes of MIR. Grant,
Tor lie speedily placed himself on ia
miliar footing at the long low farm
house. where he met with very warm
greetings from the farmer and his wife,
and dimpling smiles and shy bushes
from their daughter.
Among the very slimmest and palest
of those who listened to the young
minister Sunday after Sunday, was
Louise, the daughter of helpless wi
dow, who had lived little out of the
yillage. and who had therefore es-
capped the knowledge OF jerome Tor
some time.
Perhaps Louise's checks would have
had more color in them, and her eyes
less of that wistful tenderness, did not
the burden of her own invalid mother 5
support fall on her slight shoulders.
But day after day-on cold dark
DAYS. when winds swept welrdly by
the little cottage-on warm wooing
days when her pulses throbbed with
longing TO be out among the yiolets--
she sat quietly at the little window,
her brown head bent over the sewing
in iler hands, the garments TO be worn
by more fortunate ones than herself,
whtcn she fashioned.
Jerome had noticed the girls sweet
patjent face. and wondered why he
Only saw it on Sunday-wondered
how il was he had never seen it in the
many homes that had been opened for
him TO enter at, welcome guest.
But Gussie's blue eyes had been
enough like violets TO make him speed
ily forget the wistful brown ones, and
it was not until he had been installed
at Locust Hollow for three months.
and had begun to think that Gussie
Elliston would make very sweet min
ister's wife. that accident brought him
TO the door of the cottage which the
Widow Fennevale and her daughter
occupied.
1t was warm; the young man was
warm. too. and tired, from long
rambie; he was thirsty. as well; and
so. after hesitating few moments,
Knocked lightly on the open door, in
tending to ask for glass of water.
His knock had not been heard evil
IDENTIFY, for nobody replied to it; and
while he waited. a low murmuring
voice reached him from within.
IL did my best mother" girlish tones
answered YEARLY, ''and | thought it
very nice. often wonder how people
can say such harsh and cruel words TO
me. when try so hard to please them.
NIother-my poor mother-it is very
hard to be poor; to be q woman, and
poor-there is nothing harder in this
whole wide worldr'
The sweet voice had taken more than
WEAKNESS on its music. Ii became
passionate aud bitter, and ended in n
burst OF sobs.
The young man was profoundly
touched, but he lifted his hand once
more. and knocked more loudly.
This time he was heard, and Light
but languid step crossed towards the
door.
Ia a moment Louise Vennevale. with
undried tears on her long lashes, was
looking at him with wondering eyes,
brown as hazel-nuts.
He held out his shapely hand.
You are one of my people. are you
notP' Inc questioned, with a smile. II
have not called before, but you will
pardon that. and bid me enter-now.
Will you notE
Certainly"
And she led him into the tiny room,
where Mrs. vennevale lay Oh sofa.
Mamma, she said quietly, "this is
Mr.. Grant. He has come to see you"
And, greatly to the young mans
disappointment after placing a chair
fog him beside the sofa, she glided out,
slight and graceful as a spirit.
He remained almost an hour con-
versing with the invalid. He heard
the pitlful story-too sadly frequent for
men to mind it much to-day. in their
busy selfish lives; the struggle TO buy
little home for wife and child by the
stalwart young farmer, who had only
his strong hands and strong heart to
rely on; then the long lingering illness
of the woman, during which the first
mortgage had fallen on the farm; then
the sudden death. by sunstroke, Of the
man. and the helpless widows efforts
TO educate her only child before al
lowing her to take up the weary bur-
den that now she had borne for four
years with gentlest patience.
at breaks my heart TO see her work