The Forest Republican. [volume] (Tionesta, Pa.) 1869-1952, 1888-08-29
A SUCCESSFUL RUSE.
BY HELEN FoRREsr GRAVES.

'Please, sir" said old Zeruiah, the
housekeeper, "there's a man up in the
plum,treem
"Up in the plum treo2" repeated Mr..
Brown. And what's he doing up in the
plum trcel 1t amt the time o. year for
ripe plums."
"No," said Zeruiah, giving the fry
ing-pan that she was cleaning an extra
scrape with the knife, "'tain't time o.
year for plums to be ripe. But it's al
ways time o. year Tor young men to make
fools of themselvcs-and the third branch
of that Far plum-tree is on line with the
window of Arabella Arden's room."
'Ehf" said Mr.. Brown, dropping his
newspaper and opening his eyes very
wide.
"As true as you live, sir, )" said Zeruiah.
'But that was precisely what my
brother sent her down here for" said
Mr.. Brown, contracting his bald fore
head into innumerable wrinkles. "To
Keep her out of Hubert Wynton's wayw
"Humph" said Zeruiah. "The world
is wide but it amt wide enough to
keep two fools apart"
"tp the plum,tree, is he2' said Mr..
Brown, with sardonic smile. "What
sort of n looking fellow is he, Zeruiah2"
"Wal," answered the old woman, still
holding the frying-pan as Minerva of old
might have held her shield, "the leaves
is thick, aud my sight amt what it once
was; but he's got light-colored clothes
on, as was never cut in Bean Hollow
and mis- hat, that lays out on the grass,
has got a city makers name in it,"
"Good" nodded Mr. Brown. "You
ought to have been a detective, Ruey.
They would give you good wages, I'll
bet big apple. Where is the hat2'
81 brung it in and put it on the hall
table, answered Zeruah.
every well. Go out and chain Caesar
under the plum-tree. Give him a good
length of chai ,, Ruey. Then come bac k
and move all Arabella's things into the
west bedroom. i'H take the end room
myself. If there's any serenading, or
poetry-reciting, or anything of that sort,
I'll have the benefit of it myself"
A slow smile broke out over Zeruiah's
wooden face.
"But what'll you tell her ," said she.
"Tell herr Why that the end room is
better aspect for my rheumatism, said
Mr.. Brown, chuckling. "And make
haste, or she'll be back from Widow
Peet's. Everything must be moved be-
fore she returns. And pull the shade
down, so the city chap won't suspicion
what we're up to-"
Off trudged Zeruiah, who, in spite of
her having first seen the light on the rag
ged coasts of Maine, was at heart true
Spanish duenna, and took grim delight
in frustrating the intents of Cupid.
Bella Arden was young and pretty.
Bella had dared to ridicule her old fash
ioned ideas. Bella had nicknamed her
"Medusa,' and though Zeruiah had not
the least idea who "Medusa" was, she
dimly suspected that it was no compli-
mentary term. And therefore Zeruiah
was not sorry to see the pretty Boston
girl ''come up with, as she phrased it.
"Why, Uncle Brown" cried Bella,
when she came in, with her fair hair
blown about her face, and her cheeks
reddened by her brisk walk across hill
and hollow-"why have you changed my
room"
"Well, you see, my dear" said Mr..
Brown, craftily, "rve an idee that the
east room will suit my rheumatism bet
ter. You don't mindf"
"Oh, not in the least!" said Bella,
cheerfully. 'And I'll go right to work
aud arrange the things that that cross
old Zeruiah has flung about so recklessly.
Oh; y-the-way, uncle, there was no let
ters for me, l suppose" as she glanced
at the weekly paper lying unfolded on
the tab'e. 'For see they've brought
the mail"
''No, my dear said Mr.. Brown, no
letters"
And the cows came, with tinkling
bells, home from the fern scented pas
lures, and the sun sank behind the
maple swamps, and the purple dimness
of twilight began to brood over all
things, and still Hubert Wynton,
prisoned up among the tossing plum
boughs, waited in vain for some prospect
of his release.
''Confound these good people," said
he to himself "What on earth have
they chained that savage beast here for
Just noicl And believe must have
made mistake that is not Bella's room
at all. A stout old man has sat there,
reading the paper, all the afternoon, and
/ haven't dared to stir, for fear of being
shot for burglar. I've seen the darling
once or twice picking flowers in the
garden, and bringing water from the
spring, but / haven't ventured to call TO
her, for fear of betTaying my hiding
place. Shades of Epicurus how good
that frying chicken smells-Cofee, too !
I'd give q kings ransom for q cup OF il 1"