Connecticut western news., 1889-07-03
about your intelligence offices. And the train goes at eleven"
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tne tTdln goes Ut cleVeu. -
 ''What sort of place is it7" asked Carry, suddenly turning around.
 "Gineral house york;" said the old farmer, leaning against the side of the door. IA little of everything. Sort O handy woman about the place. Jest exactly the sort O work our darter would have done if she'd lived to grow up. Ten dollars 8 week and good home. dunno what you thing of it, but it seems to me a pretty fair offer.
 "Mothcr," said Garry, breathlessly, "I have great mind to go, if-if MT. Jessup will take me-"
 "And glad of the chance" said the old farmer, chee fully.
 "I don't know much about house. york;" went on Carry.
 "My woman'll teach you," said the farmer. 'She'd be doin' it herself if it wasn't for the rheumatism in her back. And you look like one who would be quick and handy to learn."
 "And I know all about her," said Mrs. Pell, ''and tell you, MT. Jessup, she's good, trustworthy girl as ever lived"
 'I could jedge as much as that by her looks,'' said MT. Jessup, shrewdly.
 So Carry Belton steered her little life- bark into this new current.
 She had not been a week at Jessup Farm before she wrote home to her mother:
 "DEAR MOTHER: am the happiest girl in all the world. This is a lovely place-all ap- pie orchards and meadows knee-deep in red clover and timothy grass. I help to milk the cows every night, and the lambs and chickens know mo already. Mrs. Jessup is the kindest old lady you ever knew; all she is afraid of is that I shall do too much Frankfurt is her nephew who lives here, and helps Mr. Jessup with the farm-brings in all the wood and water, and is always ask ing what he can do to help me. I suppose I ought not to call him Frank but every one else does, and it seems so perfectly nat ural. All that troubles me, mother, is being separated from you, and have such a de- lightful plau. It was Frank that first thought of it, and Mir. and Mrs. Jessup do not object. There is one wing of the old farmhouse that is only used for store place-two delightful rooms, with great fireplace big enough for a whole colony, and windows looking out on the river. They are little out of repair, to be sure, but I can easily whitewash and repaper them, with Franks help, and you are to come and live there. And all the rent kind Mrs. Jessup will accept is a little dressmaking now and then, such as you are handy with, for her poor on fingor- joints are all stiffened with rheumatism, and she cannot hold needle. And you can go into the city with your em- broidery every week or two-the fare is not so very great-and you can breathe in the smell of the new-mown hay, and gather wild flowers and sweetbrier, and oh, mother dar- ling, we shall be so happyp
 Mrs. Bolton read the letter through tears of delight.
 ''It will be like heavcn2" she said to herself. My dear, thoughtful child l But I wonder who this Frank is2 l wonder whether she knows how often her thoughts and her pen turn to him9 He must be good if he is with these kind people!"
 She went out to tho old farm. Garry met her at the station ill q wagon, with with handsome, sun-burned young man holding the reins.
 ''This is Frank Jessup, motherl" said she, with radiant face.
 The two rooms were in perfect order. A bunch of roses stood on tho bureau, and summer evening though it was, q fire of logs burned within the deep, | smoke blackened chasms of the ancient chimney, casting rcd reflections on the newly papered wails-'lest it should be damp" said Garry.
 And the first real homo feeling which they had known for years came, like the breeding wings of dove, over the hearts of mother and daughter as they sat side by side on the doorstep, under the green apple-boughs, with great star shining in the west, and the sound of brooklet gurgling along beneath the willows beyond