The Worthington advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1874-1908, 1889-11-07
BLUEBERRIES.
How I Finally CIT Debbie and
Blueberry Pic.

Debbie and we're standing on Sun
set Rock watching q forest fire on the
side OF old Shaunagunk. Debbie was
crying. A great tree she had been
very fond OF had burst into a red
blaze. changed to pink ashes, and
dropped out OF sight as we gazel.
Il can not bear to SEQ it, she said,
hiding her face on my shoulder.
mo matter. Debbie.' I said.
"There'll be plenty of blucberries next
summer. You know there always arc
the year after these fires. and am as
famous for eating blueberry pie as you
are for making it,
But Debbie would not laugh.
There arc always blueberries
enough she said. "But lored that
tree-the tree we sat under when"
when l asked you to be my wife,"
said l. land you said yes. otherwise
l should not have made that remark
about blueberry pies.'
But liked the tree, too, for all that.
Debbie took things of that sort very
hard. She could not bear to see
the flowers fade in autumn, or the
grass grow brown. She often said
that she believed the green things
growing had souls.
She had been just like that ever since
she was baby. when she petted every
thing In the place. The calves, the
lambs, the little piglets. even the old
black hog in his sly came in for a
share of her favor, though he was the
most unlovablc creature alive. And
remember that one Thanksgiving Day
tho turkey that graced tho feast had
been her special favorite absented
herself from table, and vas found,
after long search aud much alarm,
hiding in the garnet. II cant touch
him, mother she confessed. Il can't
we have boon 100 friendly"
''An odd child the farmers: wives
declared, and thanked Heaven their
own had more plain common sense and
less Imagination. But even then. to
my fancy, Debbie Doane was the
sweetest, prettiest creature alive. A
slender, blue-eyed, fair-haired wisp of
child. as light on her feet as any
bird. She knew all the birds in the
wood, it seemed to me. and where they
nested. and never dared touch one.
l had a boys natural brutality, Of
course, but for Debbic's sake kept
it under, until it died a. natural death
with manhood, for We lived in that
pleasant place among the mountains
-Dcbbie anG Until she was eigh-
teen. and one-and-twenty.
Our parents were friends. aud l was
an only child, while Debbie's little
brothers-thcrc were two or three OF
them. believc-had passed away when
they were babies. Our liking for each
other pleased our mothers, and when
one day began to know that did not
love Dcbb!e as Il sister, was sure that
DO one would disapprove; and up there
under the tree we had just seen drop.
we kissed each other for the first time
as lovers kiss, and said those things to
each other which only lovers say.
And so / had como to thinking OF her
az my future wife, and talking about
her making BURBERRY pie for me.
But long before the blueberries
spraug up over tho ashes o; the dead
pines every thing had changed.
Debbie's father was hot~tcmpered
man, and mine an obstinate one. They
got along wonderfully with each other
for many years. and it seemed to be one
Of those especial bits of spite which
Fate doles out to lovers. that they
should have their first serious falling
out directly Debbie and were engaged.
What was it about, you ask9 o: all
men on earth, farmers quarrel about
the smallest things. The ill-feeling
began about bit of meadow land.
worth next to nothing. was continued
by our old pear tree, which projected
its roots into Mr., Doanc's cellar, and
finished by one of Doane's cows, who
trOd down our corn; and one day the
two elderly mon faced each other. their
faces crimson, their eyes blazing, blot.
ting out the friendship of years by theil
mutual taunts and rcproaches, until,
at last, Doane struck my father, and
my father knocked him down. He fell
with his head against a bit of wood,
and cut it. and the blood flowed over
his face and neck. The women
screamed; Doane lay at length upon
the grass, d CORY spectacle. Mrs.
Doane called one farm hand to help
his master in. another to run for the
doctor. and the general impression
that a murder had been committed
was conveyed. 1t was q matter for &
bit of court-p!aster, after all; but d
lifelong friendship was over forever
and it was conceded on both sides that
Debbie aud l must break with each
other.
Upon the mountain, where the blue
berries were to be next summer, We
met for the last time. The ashes O.
the tree we had first kissed under were
all blown away, and only grim, black
stump remained to l.s.s where it once
stood. Debbie was very pale. but very
firm.
1T would be an insult to father If
should marry the son of Il Ian WIZ
tried to kill him. she said; land Mr.
Ashton did try, Eben."
MY father only resented a blow, .
any man ought" said.
''But how furiously," said Debbie
''how brutality"
And then we quarreled. until at las
we parted, going by different way
down the mountain, angry with eacl
other. as we had never thought to be
The quarrel between the two fami
lies changed every thing. My father
shortly found it too unpleasant to liv'
in such unfriendly fashion. and resolved
to move to the West. My mother fell
as glad to go as he. As for me