Johnstown weekly Democrat. (Johnstown, Cambria County, Pa.) 1889-1916, 1889-08-02

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has all the luck, said Farmer Crabbe
whose son was married to a pretty slat-
tern, who read novels all day and had no
more idea of housekeeping than the kit
tens that frisked ON her hearth.
at amt luck, said Uncle Joab; otis
faculty-that's what it is.
And his wrinkled visage beamed with
satisfaction as he stood there under the
great, feathery elm that Swallowed the
farmyard gate, thinking what q model
wife Lydia Watts would make his only
son.
1t had been the pride of John Fem s
lifn to make his farm the model farm of
the neighborhood; and when his son
came of age, he formally decided it over
to him.
"It's for Franks sake I've been max
ing it what it is, said he. "Let him go
on with it now"
"But father"
Joab Fem laid his hand softly on
Franks shoulder.
"My boy" said he, In a voice that fal
tered little, "what object in life have
beyond your happiness? Bring home "a
nice, stirring little wife; carry on the
farm as | have begun it and l shall ne
happy"
"You are the best father in the world y
cried Frank, fervently.
Farmer Crabbe trudged homo with u
setting of Black Spanish eggs ing in "a
hand basket, and Joab Fem strolled
leisurely along the lane, his hands be-
hind his back, his eyes bent meditatively
on the fresh grass, when suddenly the
sound of voices behind the vine-draped
stone wall at the left reached his ear
Franks voice, and that of Myra Miller,
the pretty little distant cousin who did
the housework, aud kept the family
stockings darned.
Don't, Frank !" said Myra. There
you've split all my blackberries r.
"Oh, bother the blackberries p inter
iected Frank Fem; 81 can easily get
some more. Here, Myra, let Ine carry
the basketW
"But-your father wouldn't like itw
"Give it to me will have 1t Why
shouldn't he like it, Puss9"
" Because - you know. Frank -
Lydia!"
"Oh, nonsenser' said Frank, cava-
lierly. Gas If Lydia Watts were half as
pretty as you. That's right-don't
shrink away so. Aren't we cousinsi"
And the CHEEKY young voices died
away among the berry bushes.
Uncle Joab stood quite motionless,
his hands still clasped behind his back,
his eyes still rooted on the grass, but
the expression of his countenance had
altered altogether.
'It won't do, muttered Uncle Joab to
him self. "It will never do in the world.
This little blue-eyed mite of a thing is
going to spoil all my plans. At this rate
| must send her to Cousin Peregrine
Birtwhistle's."
And the very next day Myra Miller was
ruthlessly given notice to quit.
"Have l done anything wrong, Uncle
Joab?" questioned Myra, looking visit
fully up into her relatives face.
mo, my dear, no, said Joab, twist
ing himself about rather guiltily. "But
old Mrs. Birtwhistle has the rheumatism
badly, and perhaps you can be made
useful there. Frank will soon be mar
ried, you know, and"
Myra's lip quivered; the tears sparkled
into her eyes.
"oh, Uncle Joab, are they really en-
gaged?"
"Well. no, not quite. But the next
thing to it, said Uucle Joab "Its an
understood thing between EN-"
Now this was trenohing on the abso-
lutte truth of the question, but Uncle
Joab had an idea that it would not do to
mince matters just at present.
The girls sweet, ilower-like face fell
instantaneously.
IL will go to Cousin Peregrine's." 3"
she said in a low voice. "Tm only
sorry hadn't known before p
And Uncle Joab felt particularly
guilty as he kissed her goodbye.
All this business was automatically
transacted in Frank Fenn's absence, and
when he came homo from town with a
pretty little churn which he had some
whore picked up for Myra, the girl was
gone.
"Where's Myra?" demanded the young
farmer, looking around In bewilderment.
"Gone TO stay spell at Cousin Pere-
grine Birtwhistle's," said Uncle Joab,
glibly. "They needed her there and so
she's gone"
"And left no word for me?"
"No," said Uncle Joab. But he knew
that the monosyllable cut Frank TO the
heart.
They were married, OF course. Pretty
Lydia Watts was exactly the girl to com
prehend the situation, and made the