The Somerset reporter. [volume] (Skowhegan, Me.) 1868-1909, 1888-08-02
SELECTED.
CRANDPA'S STORY.

$50 it seems Fred Hayes has finally jill
ted Fanny Howe" said Grandpa West,
one rainy morning, As he stood shaking of
the drops from his great coat ON our
kitchen stove.
Yes" replied |, as filled a pan with
apples and prepared to cut them, land
more shame to him, too. Brought her
clear up to an engagement, and then left
town with another girl, and without one
word to Fan.
"Shame :" repeated good Grandpa
West, with an indignant flash from his
eyes blue and clear as at twenty-one, ;
its Il disgrace to any Christian Church
to let one of its members 20 on so. Time
was when he wouldn't have gone scot
free, as he has now.
But wha Id have been done?' in
quircd.
ozone? He'd have tie whole broadsidc
of church discipline on his shoulders fifty
years ago. lie ought to be dealt with as
Harmon Page was, concluded grandpa,
meditativly.
"IIow was that" inquired |, interested
at once.
Il wonder if YOU heard that story
said he, with curious glance understood
better afterwards "See here, it's rainy
day, and mother won't be expecting me
home. Hand over knife, and I'll help
you with your apples and tell that yarn at
the same time.
Well pleased with the plan, | took
another pan, and our fingers flew As
grandpa went on with the true and au-
thentic history of Harmon Page.
You see" he began, 'all this happned
fifty years ago, and Amityville wasn't
4, L., ala il
now. 1t was comparatively new, and
was as lively and enterprising as the new
places of the west are today. There
were a good many old arstocratic fami-
lies, though. and tell We they held their
heads high. The very meetin' house
slips had to be gagged accnrdin to the rank
of the buyer, and tell YOU old Deacon
Avery would never have got the scowl
out of his forrard if Squire Page had
happened to had seat in front of his.
"Deacon Avery had daughter-a quiet.
gentle girl, with Il slight, graceful figure
and face-well, you don't see such faces
nowadays. A clear, fine complexion
with delicate pink trembling up into
her lips when she was spoken to. Her
eyes were great limpid wells, changing
with every thought, and her hair was a
soft chestnut brown, waving about her
face in its own Maynard style
"She was lovely girl, became pro-
fessor young, and was always to be seen
in the end of the deacon's pew every sun
day. rain or shine. She'd never have
much company, for there was KIND of
dgnified reserve about her that kept the
fellows at distance. But when she was
long about eighteen or twenty, Harmon
Page began to go with her
ole was handsome, high spirited
chap. lively and full of talk, and as diff
ferent from Mercy Avery as two persons
could well be. But they loved each
other; there's no doubt of that. Many's the
time Eve seen her grand eyes sparkle and
pretty cheeks flush at llarmon's witty
speeches, till she was really brilliant.
And he, with all his proud spirit, always
grew strangely gentle with Mercy.
so, in spite of the rivalry that always
existed between the two families, no one
would have disturbed the two, had it not
been for Virginia Wake. She was a
cousin of Col. Ford's first wife, and came
there visiting from the south
"Nirgiua was called handsome girl.
with her brunette face, flashing black
ewes and heavy black curls she was never
tired of jingling around her neck. She
had a good deal, too, of what you call
.style,' and Amityville folks. who didn't
know As much of the ways of the world
as they do now, were completely fasclna-
ted with her taking ways. The young
fellows in particular lowered around her
like moths around candle.
IAN except Harmon Page lie had en-
gagged himself to Mercy, and at first gave
the newcomer the go-by. The Pages