The Bennington banner. [volume] (Bennington, Vt.) 1858-1894, 1890-12-25
nA1sY,s FARM.

wharton HILL, young lawyer, eiOmiy
winning name and fame in his PROBES
sion, was being vigorously handshaken
noisi " welcomed by the Trumans when
Ned exclaimed:
'Perhaps you didn't know that Daisy
was an heiress, Wharton"
"Ned-don't!' said Daisy, reproach'
fully.
"a landed proprietress," cried Tom
81 don't refer to the paltry six hundred
a year she draws from her fathers estate,
but to her own property"
Her farm, in fact;" cried Sue.
"Yes, her farm" echoed Ned, coming
to the front once more. when you are
tired of the law you can start gentleman
farming upon your country seat"
After they were all gone, having TESTED
a long time on this subject, Wharton was
surpried to see tears in Daisys soft
brown eyes.
"What is it, darling?" he asked.
"They don't mean to hurt my feel
ings," Daisy said gently, "but they will
Jest about my farm, and-and-l don't
like it."
"Then you really own farm"
at is not valuable possession, as you
will see when l tell you about it. When
was a baby, soon after mamma died,
was very ill, and the doctors advised my
father to send me to the country for
change of air. There was an old servant
of fathers family, who had married
farmer and was left widow with a small
farm.
"Such a farm, Whartonl The house
has only three rooms, and looks as If
high wind would utterly demolish it;
the land is so poor that is so slow star
walton to cultivate it. But it was all the
home Margaret had. You may judge
that she was very glad to receive the lib
eral price father paid for me, and my
own mother could not have given mt
more loving care.
every year father came to take mt
away, and every yaar was persuaded tC
leave me, until was eight years old, ano
a marvel of rugged health and perfect
ignorance. Then l was put in boarding
school, but ] still spent my summer
vacations with old Margaret, and my
trunk was always half full of com
forts for her. Having no one in the
world who claimed kindred with her-nC
one but me to love, Margaret loved me
with her whole heart.
six years ago, after father died and
/ came here to live with Uncle Tom
Margaret died and left me her farm. II
has been joke in the family ever since
The place is so utterly valueless that we
can neither sell it or rent it, and it rep
resents only the love of an old woman fol
her nursing"
Some time we will visitit. You have
not told me its locality"
SIT is in Pennsylvania, nine miles
from anywhere, father used to say.
because it is nine miles from the rail
road. But you can always hire a
carriage at G--to go over to Corn S
Mill, and my farm is very near Corn's
Mill"
After this explanation Wharton bore
the jesting about Daisy's real estate with
perfect good nature, and declared his
Intentions of erecting a palatial country
seat upon the place when he became
millionaire and judge of the superior
court.
Being people of moderate desires, and
having an income of about 5000 apiece,
Wharton and Daisy saw no reason to
delay their wedding, and were married
with a large assemblage of true friends
among them. They went to housekeep-
ing in little house, modestly furnished,
and were very fair couple of specimens
of love in a cottage"
But Wharton Hill was very ambitious.
Having studied his profession under
great difficulties, often going hungry
to buy needful books, often losing his
nights rest to pore over knotty points,
he was both fond and proud of his life
work, and strove to win good position
therein. His love for Daisy--true, hon
est love-was never allowed to interfere
with his pursuit of fame in his pro-
fession, and after he was married he
attacked his studies with fresh ardor,
spending his time in his Office when not
actually engaged in the business of the
courtroom.
Little Daisy, whose life was affection,
found time often hanging heavily upon
her hands, as Wharton became more and
more popular and the number of clients
increased. But she was always ready
with loving welcome when he did come
to his home, and she knew that much
of his ambition and ardor was for her
sake.
The third year of her married life was
nearly over, and her only child, Tom
Trueman Hill, was IS months old, when
Wharton, ever busy and full of energy,
began to complain of racking pain in his
head and loss of memory. Often in the
midst of an argument the thread of
his speech slipped from his mind and
cost great mental struggle to be re-
sumed.
He fought the symptoms bravely,
but Daisy was full of terror at the
change in him. He grew haggard and
restless, oppressed with vague fears of
loss of reason and really suffering great
physical pain.
At last, much against his will, he
allowed Daisy to call in the family phys
ician, whose only advice was simple, but
strongly urged, consisting of only two
words, perfect rest"
"The brain is overworked," he ex.
claimed, and no medicine will avail while
he persists in study and practice. Get
him away if yon can. H'm-this is
Maya good time for a country
trip. Take him to the country, Mrs.
Hill.n
Wharton rebelled. 1t was ruin to his
Office, where cases of Importance were in
his hands. He must work or they might
all starve. He would decline some of
the practice offered him; would take lit
tie trips during the summer; would, in
short, temporize.
And tlfen Daisy-little brown-eyed
Daisy-whose voice was as soft as flute,
who was scarcely larger than we'll
grown child of II, put her foot down.
Such mite of foot 1t was absurd TO
imagine that it had any weight in the
worlds machinery; but it was down,
and kept it there. Tom was lawyer,
and Tom could Wharton's cases for the
summer months. There was her farm
poor place, to be sure, but a least a
house, and with some furniture in it, and
surrounded by beautiful scenery, pos
sessing purest air and water. With 5000
year they would not starve, and there
was a nest egg in the bank in case of an
emergency.
Wharton pshawedl Wharton fumedl
All in vain. Resolute little Daisy
packed trunks, arranged the household,
engaged half-grown girl to accompany
them as child's nurse, and enlisted the
entire Truman family on her side.
And Wharton, finding those queer
feelings in his head becoming more fire.
quent, finally submitted to fate, in the
person of Daisy, explained the various
points at issue to Tom Trueman, and,
by wife, child and nurse,
took up his journey to Corn's Mill. It
was early morning when a rickety old
wagon containing the party and baggage
entered an enclosure that had once been
a fence, and the family took possession
of Daisy's farm.
The prospect was not encouraging.
The house had not improved in years OF
years of emptiness and neglect, and even
Daisy's brave heart sank as she
looked at the broken roof, the
doors, and shaky windows.
But she only said, covering her dismay
with cheerful smile:
"We are here, and we must make the
best of itl''
Jennie, the nurse, proved treasure,
- ~, ,.,or,,an vvara qoon husv nttttin0