Idaho County free press. [volume] (Grangeville, Idaho Territory) 1886-current, 1889-08-23
"Would you like some more?n

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hand against an upright wooden
post, and Jack planted himself.
May | smoker"
The girl nodded. After he had
lighted up she gravely asked him:
What brought you here to this
placer"
Accident, pure and simple"
did you hear of it?"
"Of what?"
"Of this cottage?"
Not word. | came from New
York. am bank clerk out for a
holiday" AS he afterward said, 81
did not want to dazzle girl in her
position with my partnership and
prospects,"
Il think you are t.llIng me the
truth" she said.
Very close to it," he chimed in,
with u hearty laugh, adding:
You live here all the year?'
"Nearly-at least as much as I
can" And rs if wishing to change
the subject: ''Do you get along holi-
day."
Not very"
1T seems nice way depending it,
then. Better, | mean, than lounging
on hotel piazzas."
"Oh, | detest them" and the young
fellow, without being aware of it,
spread out his idea to the sun.
The girl listened with evident
pleasure.
Cant help you to hull those
peas? | ought to do something for
my Bread" he laughed.
There was so much of the genial
courtesy and youthful frankness in
the way he made the offer that the
girl exclaimed:
81 think you had better. | shall
never have them done in time"
Jack proved himself an expert, and
was very, very sorry when his task
was ended.
Good day to you," said the girl,
gathering up her dish of peas.
Upon the following noon, Jack
WelIden, with a very handsome pho
tOgraph album, presented himself at
the little gate, and, strange to relate,
his enraptured ear was greeted by
the delicious voice of the hostess of
the day before. On that occasion,
however, she was not engaged in
hulling peas, but in spinning at n
quaint old spinning wheel, such as
might have been the valued property
of her great-grandmother.
ooh, you again!" she laughed.
Eyes, thought you would like
some photos of the Giants Toe, So |
brought them for you"
"They are beautiful, she exclaimed,
as she glanced over them, "but you
did wrong"
Il am very sorry"
'I'll take one"
'That's for the bread, and another
for the beer" laughed Jack.
These two young people got on so
well together. that the time slipped
past, and the spinning wheel was
woefully neglected.
'"This will never do" suddenly cried
the girl, leaping to her feet. "Here I
have been wasting my time with an
unknown gentleman, and"-
"But p
N'But me no butts, sir, but gol"
pointing dramatically to the gate.
"I'll be hanged if 1 dol" said Jack,
resolutely. "At least" he added
"until say what have to say, and
what thought | would never say"
And then, almost unconsciously, and
Obeying an emotion he was utterly
unable to control, Jack Wellden laid
his throbbing heart, with all it's
hopes and fears, at the dainty feet of
this dainty little maid.
"You are madl' was all that she
said, as she rushed from him into the
house.
When Jack arrived at the gate up
on the following day, a strange man
asked him his business. Stung to the
quick-love is always sensitive-Jack,I
crushing down all feelings, calmly re-
piled:
81 have none"
AS he wandered aimlessly through |
the woods, his resolve shaped itself |
thus: 'That girl shall be my wife.
What if she be penniless, and lowly |
born, a violet is born very close to
the earth"
Seated upon the piazza of the Pro-
file house in corner, out of the tide,
he smoked his beloved pipe, gazing
up at the moon, as in the wont of |
happy and unhappy lovers.
A soft voice behind him:
"Mr. Wellden?"
He turned. 1t is Mrs. Pomroy De
Smythe.
Where have you been hiding your
SETON the top notches OF in the
depths of the woods? | want you to
come over to yonder group, Miss Win
throp, our Boston beauty and great
catch, is with us. | wish to present
you to her on your dear mothers ac-
count"
This was cruel. Jack loved to be
alone, and alone he intended to re-
main.
81 am awfully sorry" he said,
"but'-and he placed his jaw in the
hollow ofhis hand.
"a toothache?"
ooh, oh! groaned the hypocritical
youth"
Il am very sorry; get some cam
phorated oil; putt And the
good old lady alter prescribing for
him, left him to his own reflections.
An hour later he felt that a five
mile stroll would be better than moth
ing; and as he descended the steps the
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