The Carbon advocate. [volume] (Lehighton, Pa.) 1872-1924, 1890-03-22

pIowed land, though he went on WIN ms
conversation:
Left your words behind, hain't We?
Jerush' alters was a master hand to talk,
n I expect you've larnt how to keep
| still, N that's just principles for women
| folks. never see burrows run like them
on that hill lot-thevre all cuterin
Oughter be ashamed ont. Well, little
cretur, be yo glad TO get homer"
ooh, yes, father" with a very genuine
love look and smile.
"No desp'rit harm done, / guess"
"How's mother, father, and the chick
ens?"
Mothers real well, N spry as ever
She's follered up them old hens till they
da'sn't call their souls their own another
minnit, n went to settin' like sixty, Jest
TO git rid on her. There's moren six
broods. Git up, old hossl we must be a.
joggin'." And in half an hour more they
were at home.
''Well, here ye be, Sallyl I'd kind O.
gin ye up-thought you didn't mean TO
come at all, maybe"
"Why, motherl I'm sure you said
might stay till this week."
"Well, if 1 did, didn't lot on your
stayin' till Wednesday. Come, child,
take off your things and stir round it's
most tea time;" and with a cold kiss
that agreed well with her welcome, Mrs.
Tyler returned to her rag piecing as if
life and breath depended on it, though
her heart really glowed within her at the
sight Of her child's fair young face; but
she had held the mother love in fetters
so long that it was too cramped to assert
its strength even on an occasion of spe-
cial demand like this.
Sally went up stairs with wistful
quiver on her lips. What pleasant
time she had had at Westboro1 how kind
everybody wasl how glad TO see her!
And then, there was that letter-a bright
spot of sunshine in the chilly dullness of
home Oh, when would it come? The
weapons Mrs. Tyler had so long been
forming against herself were today set
in Sally's unconscious grasp, and she
used them 1t is the young souls instinct
to hunger after love, and bitterly are
those to blame-more bitter is their pun
ishment-who starve it at home and
drive it out to wander after food.
If the postmaster at Wing6eld had not
been deaf and gruff old man, who had
no curiosity left in his wilted soul, he
could not have failed to wonder at Sally's
persistent haunting of the ''store" where
his pigeon holes were fixed; and Sally's
ingenuity was taxed for a week to find
daily preteXts for her stroll toward the
few clustered houses that were the nu-
cleus Of the village; but at last she was
rewarded. If Joe had been delayed by
a sudden journey on business at the ex-
/ press orders of his foreman, the letter
was at least worth waiting for; it was
short, strong and earnest-a true mans
letterl and not the less precious to Sally
that she felt sort of pride in it. But if
her joy had come, 80 came the trouble,
hand in hand. AS she walked along the
green path homeward the little white
sun bonnet shading her face, utterly alb
sorbed in reading and rereading the
blessed epistle, not having the prudence
or worldly wisdom to hide it in her
pocket and read it at some other and
more Git time, she felt hand laid on
her shoulder, and there was her father
| Goodnessl how she coloredl
"What ye got there, so all fired inter
estin', Sally? Jerushy ben a-writin' on
ye some more?'
"No, father"
''What be you a-colorin' up for 50,
jest like our old turkey? 'Tain't none
O. them Westboro' chaps ben a-sendin'
| ye love letters, be it,"
The squire spoke in jest, but his word
was true.
"Oh, fatherl'
''The Lord above! Ef hain't hit the
nail smack on the head this time! Come,
Sally, let your old father see it. l don't
allow no fellers to go a-writin' to my
! girl 'thout I know somethin' who they
be, jest"
There was no place for Sally to escape;
disobcy she dare not Her hand shook
| with apprehension as well as emotion
when she put the fair sheet in the
squire's hand, and her eyelids quivered
| with half shed tears as she watched his
! inhexible visage
"Darn it ALI he's got brass enough for
a meetin' house bell! Wants to marry
ye already, n hain't known ye but about
three weeks; shows he's a fool on the
face ont. Now s'pose you think he's a
real smart chap. Why, Sallyl a-oryin',
my little galP Don't mean to tell me
you like the critter so much? Well, well,
well, I'll see about it, But 1 swan to
mani there's your mother, n I don't
know no more than Pharaoh which road
she'll turn up. Whe-wp and he took
to whistling "China" Eve degrees worse
than Dundee" Poor Sally's heart
| sank