Washington standard. [volume] (Olympia, Wash. Territory) 1860-1921, 1888-12-21
A ROMANCE OF EARLY DAYS. IN
HOOSIeRDOM.
CHAPTER Y.
SUMMING
BY II. w. TAYLOR.

Third, the. But had better tell
this in detail. and as nearly consecu-
lively as may.
In the sparse grove of black oaks
and beeches that reached their bare,
ragged branches from the summit Of
the very little knoll that passed for
1.-THE hill" with the citizens of Sand
town, down to within stones throw
of the river. l saw. even while yet at
some distance, the two girls in lively
movement here and there. A thin and
wavering band Of blue smoke struggled
up among the gray branches of the
beaches and the sturdy black limbs of
the oaks and elms. and occasionally l
could see little tongues Of fame dart
ing up and falling back. In fact. look
ing around me. 1 observed that this
was not BY any means . singular spec
tacle. From almost every little hut in
the narrow outskirts in Sandtown,
women with sun-bonnets and half
hand gloves, and armed with rake or
broom. were going and coming and
raking and burning till the numerous
columns Of white, gray and blue smoke
might well have been that Of the first
offering to Ceres. tho spring-time sac
rifice Of the goddess of the fields and
OF the harvests to come.
Climbing over the rail fence,
walked on to the crest of the little
hill. catching confused rattle of girl
voices. as I approached the source Of
the blue smoke, which l, at length,
saw proceeded from no windrows Of
dry leaves and grass, but from q
cracking fire of dry. dead beech limbs
and strips of hickory bark. The first
glance was a disappointment to me.
There were three girls instead of two
the third. the odd. the unwelcome
one to me. a stout. strong, practical.
ugly. matter-of-fact young woman Of
about my age, and for whom 1 had
never had any liking, chiefly. and,
perhaps solely, because it was notori-
ously known that she was wrapped up
In an inordirate liking for me. All
the winter before at the Sandtown
school she had prosecuted me with
her lavish misunderstanding par
ticularly fine apples in my desk, SO
that should be surprised by them on
raising the lid to take ont my arith-
metio and slate; sending languishing
:" kiss-verses" always with the candy
duly lnclosed; putting rather pretty
book-narks, with appropriate notices
upon them ut the next lesson in gram
mar or geography; and very often
adding little dishes of candied honey
(gi which am particularly fond 70
this day. to my school dinner, If the
weather was such A. to make the mile
walk At noon sufficiently Objectionable
TO overcome the temptation Of q warm
dinner at home.
Then she Was perpetually near me.
and always ready to fetch any thing
wanted. or to help at any thing
might be trying to do. And she was
not to be swerved from her self-im-
posed servitude by any amount of jeer.
Ing remarks Of our schoolmateA and
baughty neglect at my hands.
Hero she was. and ~ usual, making
herself laboriously busy in the prepar-
atio4 Of . woodland dinner. to which
sha had brought, all and singular, the
tid-bits that were my special weak
nessea including . plentiful supply of
''candied" honey.
Where's Buckp I thought YOU
wore to bring Buck with youp'' were
the joint ordinations Of our two girls.
And I didn't know you was to have
that Fan Go-uns h-yur." ] retorted,
With hook Of cool disgust directed to
where that sturdy Aax-haired maiden
waa aepelelT, nay joyfuly. tripping
about the fire and locking up from her
work 1t me whenever her ewes could
~ sparea Gwo SECONDS as . tune nom
The exacting duties Of skilled cooking.
I'VE brought her to do the cook.
Ing. whispered my sister Liz, mis-.
chisvously. ''She's . splendid cook.
ron know. And such = dinner she's
getting"
':And then We know she Is SUCH an
Admirer Of yours Jim." said Polly, de.
lightsdly: She's perfectly happy 1t
his pleased minute" A serene smile
N Fans good-natured, strong face
attested this observation.
Nov don't be too cross to her,"
laid my sister Liz who always was q
dnd-heartsd thing. '.Trvst her a lit
10 bit friendly. wont your and she
|aughed In my face.
AT least till the dinners oyer.,'
'aid Polly, laughing too. .sThen Won
san b - ugly to her ~ you want to
se. Look at her carrying those two
buckets Of water! Amt she stronee
But you haven't told rs why you
lidn't wait for BucklS And she
;urnsd upon me with her large brown
- having some sort Of an expres-
non II them new to me. and not pleas
INT q me either.
BUCK went away some'rs this
noFnun." l answered. thinking about
he ambuscade and the Judges exor.
1ium.
Yes. I know he did" Polly replied,
quickly, and then looking into my face
= il thia interruption were only do.
igped to draw me ON to further expla-
lation. Wehad sat down upon the long.
Try wildhone-grass Of these woods,
He went away with that Teller
Martin. an he hain't come back VT
M what's more. hit may be . purity
,ood spell before airy ono NV I'm
'omes back-ef I know any thene
bout Ut" (Which the Lord knows (
lidn'tl
There were little nervous switchings
bout Polly's pretty mouth and what
re Sandtown people call "sickly
,rin"-which in polite literature haa
70 exact equivalent phrase, l believe,
md Is usually expressed by those words
the idea Of s'embarrass-
aent" along with tho smile. But it il
more than mere embarrass-
rent And therefore adhere to the
omely Sandtown phrase Liz saw
b expression in her bosom.compan.
ms face. and looked 1t Polly with her
rows drawn . little and . very grave |
nd thoughtful studiousness 10 her
henomenslly honest gray eyes. Pol
70 refuge was plainly an honest. in
ignant resentment, and she promptly
vailed herself of this old. old subtsr.
lge which. like the other old plans
aforementioned. are none the less po-
mt because Of advanced senility.
'.You two look ut me as If I'd done
dreadful" she burst out,
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