The Press., 1888-03-01
A DERNIER RESORT.


 4 middle. aged man was walking mp the prettiest street of little country town one, afternoon in early June. It was a quiet, tree-shaded, grass-grown street, and the man, as he. walked along with jauRty, swinging step, seemed wonderfully wide awake in contrast to it. He was we'll preserved man, who must have been very good looking, if not positively handsome, in his youth. He was dressed m gray suit of fashionable cut, and wore his hat slightly tipped on one side of his abund ant brown, curly hair. This brown, curly hair was very lightly touched with gray here and there, so lightly, indeed, as not to be peTceptible to the careless observer. In his right hand, which was firmly held against the small of his back, he grasped heavy, gold headed cane He glanced from side to side, as he walked, at tho windows of the cottages with the air of. one who had been used to, and still ex- pects to, catch the admiring glances of peeping women. And in this expectation he was not wholly disappointed, for from at least half d zen doors and as many windows he canght their glances, though they Were really more of wonder than ad- miratiOn albeit, he chose only to admit the latter
 By Jove!" said he to himself in a drawing tone, as the last cottage passed he emerged into the highway again and came in sight of picturesque old black smiths shop, before which stood an inn mense weeping willow, Show little the place has changed. What sleepy old town 1t IS. I don't believe there have been twenty buildings added to it since I left here nearly a quarter of century ago. l And there's the smithy just the same as t1rR,n ,nT ' xo1 in paugh! !' And then stepping across to the shop where man of about his own age a stout, round-faced, merry-looking fellow was yielding a hammer with mighty force, striking brave sparks from the horse shoe he was fashioniDg and singing loudly the while to the musical clink, clink, clink that answered his blows, "Hallo Jim Farlow," said the new -comer in a louder and quicker tone than that in which he had spoken to himself, but it was not un- | til Jim Barlow was touched upon the shoulder by the gray -kidded hand that the loud singing and musical clinking ceased, and the blacksmith turned slowly about and gravely regarded his visitor with no hint of recognition in his honest blue eyes.
 "Why, Jim, don't you know me?" ask ed he of the gray snit "Surely you haven't forgotten Jack Palmer?"
 l l smith. "Be you Jack Palmer? If you be you don't look much like the Jack Palmer that used to work aside of me at this very forge"
 "But 1 am all the same" said Palmer, ''though fancy city life has removed all trace of the country youth. That is, all trace of his rusticity I f1Atter myself some of his good looks still remain. Hey, Jim?"
 To this speech, made with a self-satis- fled smile, Jim replied by another ques- tion "I suppose you invested that mon ey so's you made heap out of it?"
 "Well, did-at first, answered Palm CT, "but the heap soon dwindled away. It was only thirty thousand in the first place, you know.'
 "Only thirty thousand, :" replied Jim, with grim chuckle "w'y wen you first heard of it thought you'd go clean daft. swan I did. Thirty thousand, says thousand fur me that never got thirty dol lars together since the day were born, an that's six an twenty years ago. Thirty thousand, says you"
 "Yes, yes" interrupted his companion, hastily; ':I suppose it did look like large sum to me then, but when one lives in 8 great city and associates with wealthy people it soon begins to look like very small one, and, by love! it and all made by 1t got less and less as the years went on until l am actually down to my last hun. dred.'
 "Down to your last hundred!" echoed Jim Barlow. "Well, you must have lived high. And now, if may make so free as to ask, what have you come back here for You surely ain't lookin'-" and glancinp at the kid gloves he broke out into a loud guftaw-"you surely ain't lookin' for 8 job at the old smithy again?"
 ''Pshaw Nonsense P replied the oth CT, half angrily, and then he resumed in his former tome, "Old Corbett's dead, hear, and left Ruth all his property. Mus be worth tidy little sum 3"
 Tt is worth tidy little sum, and she' tidy little woman" asserted the black smith, with emphasis.
 'Plainer than ever, though, l suppose Naturally such homely girls make stil homeher old maids"
 'I never thought her homely nor neith CT did any one else but you, I guess : Palmer, and you didn't think so till yo1 got amongst them city gals. You treate, Ruth alfred mean, you did," and Jin Barlow turned to his anvil again.
 "Oh, look here, Jim, don't go to wor for a minute or two more. Does she liv at the farm? I know l didn't treat he e exactly right, but when one finds ones sel ID surrounded by handsome fashionable girl ;, one can't help but forget the rustic maid ems one leaves behind. But have goo reason to think I can still make it a U right. Better late than never, you know She has remained single for my sake, am sure, and have come here to rewar her constancy at last. In short, to marr her,"
 "To marry her?"
 "Great heavens! what parrot you are Jim. Yes, to marry her. She is derr fer ressort."
 "What's that ?" asked the blacksmith.
 "A last resort. l can't live any longe in the city. I'm over head and heels i debt there-owe for this very suit hay on. So I've made up my mind to retur to the home of my childhood, marry m old sweetheart, and settle down into quiet country gentleman. Not ba thing to do when one can't do anythin else. is it?"
 "Well, swan you are cool cad, sai Jim. But you won't find her at tn farm, but at the little red house just thi side of it, She isn't bit stuck up thoug she has come into fortune. You'd bette I.1