Semi-weekly south Kentuckian. [volume] (Hopkinsville, Ky.) 1883-1889, 1888-01-27

nature would permit, Freddie-there
would be difference, Ifancy, even
then."
Max" joyfully springing to the
ground in her excitement-"I have q
plan to propose to you;" and with
many interections and ordinations,
and much exultant laughter, she pro-
ceedod 10 unfold its details to Max.
Couldn't have happened Mt worse
time" growled Grandfather Blythe, as
he contemplated his puffy. tender
ankle strcaked with yollowish green
n bad sprain that he had got from
chasing refractory colt.
yes" answered the doctor, cal
low young man, with straight, yellow
locks, immense goggles, and profess
sional gravity of manner, "this prom
ises to bo something serious. Mr..
Blythe"
And there Is the hay ready TO cut
and get in before 1t rains. and no help
hardly, and none to be got for love or
money"
Grandpa" said soft voice from
the other room, "herc is man who is
looking for work"
''Send him here at once" said the
old man. forgetting for moment the
agonizing twinges of his ankle in his
anxiety for his hay.
A tall form. with an awkward stoop
in his shoulders. clad in q long linen
duster, and surmounted by head Of
Struggling rcd hair, showed itself al
the open door.
"HumphT growled the testy occu
pant of tho lounge, 80 you want
Tf,,,'F-do I'm - X,9ega What can you dop"
Square. Brought up on ana mas q
see. and bin used 10 1t all my life. )"
Freddie" called tho squire, ''giv
him something to eat Is'pose he
hungry-thcy always are Aud afte
he's fed, show him tho way to tn
meadow"
Freddie, almost convulsed with mer
riment at tho gawky strangers man
ncr, camc forward obediently and Of
fered to conduct him to the kitchen
but he declined to eat "'till 'twa
earned" he said, slouched off with
limping gait toward the hay field.
Half an hour aftcrward Grandfathe
Blythe. watching the stranger from
the window saw him loading hay
with swiflness and dexterity tina
distanced all competitors.
His awkward moTements, his limp
ing walk, and his frowzy red hai
seemed to acquire almost dignity by
the facility and case with which he
worked.
Hes a prize. " chuokled Mr.. Blythe
"worth dozen ordinary pitchers. o.
course hen run away in day or two
these tramps always do"
"But, contrary to Squire Blythe S
prediction. ho did not. On the con-
trary, he grew more and more helpful,
rs the season advanced, and as Squire
Blythe grew more and more incap-
able of using his foot tho tramp's ex-
perience and advice proved valuable
to the irritable old man, until at last
he camc to be regarded as an author
ity. to DO respected. and consulted on
all doubtful points.
1t was Thanksgiving, and the odors
of fruit, spices and all sorts of savory
smells filled the Blythe kitchen and
dining-room. where Freddie fitted
about dimpling with smiles. preparing
tho Thanksgiving dinner
SANDY" as the red-haired stranger
was called, sat by the south window,
which was filled with crimson roses
and white chrysanthemumA
He held a newspaper in his hands,
as If engaged in reading. but his eyes
wandered from its columns TO where
Freddie stood, her sleeves rolled up
above her round dimpled elbows her
white hands covered with flour, her
checks flushed with exercise.
Grandfather Blythe walked into the
kitchen, leaning heavily on his cane.
Half way across the room ho paused
and spoke to SANDY"
Il want a competent man to take
charge of my farm next year." ho be-
gan, ''one who is capable, who UNDER
stands practical farming-in Short
want you. Name your price. and II
the terms are not too extravagant I'll
talk business with YOU"
"My price, sirp'
SANDY" had risen now and walked
across the kitchen to where Freddie
stood. my price, sir, is here"
"WhatP" Numbered the Squire,
''lo you mean to insult my grand
daughterp'
by no means, SIR" answered the
tramp. respectfully, removing his red
wig and disclosing the brown curling
locks of Max Stanton, the artist II
am of as good family as your own;
Il love your granddaughter and be-
lieve could make her happy. l am
fond of art it is true, but / think l
have demonstrated the fact that ! am
not, on that account, entirely devoid
of common sense.
Driven TO bay, as It were, the Squire
admitted the justice of the remark.
and, turning to Freddie, whose cheeks
were crimson as the roses in the win
dow, he asked gruflly. what do you
say, FreddieP"
We will not attempt to give Fred
dies answer. an answer Of dimples,
smiles. blushes, and incoherent not to
say irrelevant remarks, but we are
bound, as varacious chroniclers, to
record the fact that In the long and
happy years she spent as Max's wife,
neither she nor Squire Blythe ever had
cause to regret the events of this
special Thanksgiving Day. Julia
Milts Dunn, IN Graphic News.
Capable of Doing Any Thing.