The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932, 1888-04-05
GRANDPA VESTS STORY.

$50 it seems Fred Hayes has finally
Tilted Fanny Howe" said Grandpa
West, one rainy morning, as he stood
shaking off the drops from his great
coat on our kitchen stove.
Yes" replied l, as | filled a pan
with apples and prepared to cut them,
land more shame to him, too. Brought
her clear up to an engagement, and
then left town with another girl, and
without one word to Fan"
''Shame" repeated good Grandpa
West, with an indignant flash from
eyes blue and clear as at q. "It's a
disgrace to any Christian church
to let one of its members go on so.
Time was when he wouldn't have gone
scot-free as he has now,"
But what could have been done?"
inquired.
Done? He'd have had the full
broadside of church discipline on his
shoulders fifty years ago, He ought
to be dealt with as Harmon Page was"
concluded grandpa, meditatiyely.
How was that?" inquired /, inter-
ested at once.
Il wonder if you never heard the
story" said he, with curious glance
| understood better afterward. ''See
here; its a rainy day, and mother
won't be expecting me home. Hand
over a knife, and III help you with
your apples and tell that yarn at the
same time.
Well pleased with the plan, | took
another pan, and our fingers flew as
grandpa went on with the true and
authentic history of Harmon Page.
'You sce," he began, all this hap
| pened fifty years ago, and Amityville
wasn't then the slow-going, dull little
place it is now. it was comparatively
new, and was as lively and enterpris-
ing as the new places of the West are
today. There were u good many old
aristocratic families, though, and tell
We they held their heads high. The
very meetin' house slips had to be
| gauged according to the rank of the
buyer, and l tell you old Deacon Avery
would never have got the scowl out of
his forehead if Squire Page had hap
| pened to had a seat in front of his.
Deacon Avery had daughter-a
quiet, gentle girl, with slight, grace
full figure and face-well. you don t
| see such faces nowadays, clear, fine
complexion, with Il delicate pink
trembling up into her lips. when she
was spoken to. Her eyes were great
| limpd wells, changing with every
thought, and her hair was soft chest
nut brown, waving about her face in
| its own wayward style.
.'She was a lovely girl, became a
! professor young, and was always to be
seen in the end OF the deacon's pew
| every Sunday, rain or shine. She'd
never had much company, for there
! was kind of dignihed reserve about
| her that kept the fellows at distance.
| But when she was long bout IS or 20,
| Harmon Page began to GO with her.
He was a handsome, high-spirited
chap. lively and full of talk, and as
| different from Mercy Avery as two
persons could be. But they loved each
! other there's no doubt about that.
Many's the time I've seen her grand
| eyes sparkle and pretty cheeks flush at
Harmon witty speeches, till she was
really brilliant. And lie, with all his
proud spirit, always grew strangely
gentle with Mercy.
| so, in spite of the rivalry that had
| always existed between the two fam
] lies, no one would nave ulSturDeN> the
two, nad tnot been for Virginia W axe.
She was cousin of Colonel Ford's
| first wife, and came there visitin' from
the South.
Virginia was called a handsome
girl, with her brunette face, flashing
black eyes, and heavy black curls she
was never tired of jingling around her
| neck. She had a good deal, too, OF
what you call style and Amityville
| folks who didn't know as much of the
ways of the world as they do now
were completely fascinated with her
taking ways. The young fellows in
particular hovered around her like
moths around candle.
"All except Harmon Page. He had
engaged himself to Mercy, and at first
gave the newcomer the go-by. The
Pages and Fords had family feud OF
good many years standing, which
kept them apart for one thing, and
Virginia had plenty of company be.
sides Harmon.
But | suppose Harmon's indifer.
ence piqued the girl, and she snHbbed
the other boys and exerted all her
charms on Harmon.