The Press., 1888-03-01

 with clothes-pin between her lips, had stepped back On the grass plat to regard them complacently when she heard the rapping on the front door, For moment she stood and wondered who 1t could be, for it was 8 very unusual thing to have anyone come to that door, all her friends, after the manner of country people, pre- ferring the back. Then she dropped the clothes pin on the grass and went to see who the caller was. --
 Jack Palmer grasped her hand as she opened the door-the thought passing through his mind at the same time how different it was to the soft hands he had for years been accustomed to grasp-and exclaimed in as impassioned tone as he conld command Ruth, dear Ruth, and do indeed see you once more ?, Miss Corbett wrested her hand from his grasp and looke q at mm Ill amaZement. Then light began to dawn upon her. "Ir it-can it be Jack Palmer?" she asked.
 "It is it c0n, replied that gentleman.
 "And what do you want?" Ruth went on, with cool, calm directness.
 "What-do -I-want?" statDmered the caller.
 "Yes, what do you waut ?' What do I want?' again It peated MT. Palmer. Why, Rntb, how cdn you ask came to see you.
 "And why?" pursued tue lady.
 "Why? Because my heart has return ed to it's old allegiance. Because l longed for my boyhood's home. Because, Ruth, want you to forgive and forget the past.
 "And then, said Ruth. "Then-then," replied the city gentle man, shifting his hat from one hand to the other, and wincing perceptibly under the steady glare of those calm blue eyes 'and then l hoped, Ruth, you would b. come my wife. ~. :,
 Have you lost all your mouey ?' asked Miss Corbett. "Well, yes, have lost the grt ater part mind to see you again. 1 did. upon my word, and ask your forgiveness"
 "Sorry to say doubt that very much. And now, Mir. Palmer, advise yon to re- turn to town as soon as possible, while hang out the rest of my washing.
 And you won't forgive me, Ruth ?"
 "WelI, really, I've quite forgotten what I have to forgive yOn for But, there, forgive you, if that will do you any good, and wish you pleasant journey back to your city friends.
 If ever q city gentleman walked off a front porch after an interview with an elderly rustic maiden, utterly routed and discomfited by that elderly rustic maiden, Jack Palmer was that city gentleman. He could not have felt more discomfted even if he had seen Miss Corbett, with tran quil little smile lowering about her mouth, go placidly back to her grass plat, pick ur the clothes-pin she had dropped to answer his knock and to let him in, and proceed to fasten handkerchief to the line there. with.
 Jim Barlow spied his old chum coming back and went to the door of the shop 'Hallo," said he "what luck ?" But the other never answered, but strode by, his iaunty manner all gone, without word ol sign.
 "Ha ha ! ho ho P shouted the black smith, nearly doubling himself up in the excess of his m;rth. The darnytr ray sort didn't work"
 That very evening as Jim Harlow wal on his way home he stopped for mo ment to speak to Ruth Corbett She Wal standing by her gate evidently on tht lookout for him.
 "Did you see Jack Palmer to-day 2 sh' asked.
 "Well, yes, I had that honor, replie the blacksmith. "Did yon?"
 II did," said Miss Corbett, "and all I'v, got to say is--and I couldn't bring mysel to say that if it wasn't leap year-that iii a pity you haven't little of his assur ance.'
 ''And, if had, what would I do witl it?" asked, coming as near to her as the gate between them would allow.
 ''Let it help you to ask me the same question he asked me" returned Ruth.
 "And that was-that was ?" said thu blacksmith.
 "Yes, it certainly was,' gravely assentec Ruth
 The gate flew open-Jim caught her il his arms-"It was, Will you be my wife ? he fairly shouted. "And I haven't thu slightest objection" said Miss Corbett.