Fisherman & farmer. [volume] (Edenton, N.C.) 1887-19??, 1890-07-04
A FOURTH OF JULY PARTY.
By MARY c. HUNGERFORD.

Mrs Ely and her daughter managed to
live. They had COW, it is true, but
procession of small boys came every
night and morning to the widows pretty
cottage with pitchers and pennies in
hand for the daily measure of milk. One
little egg cup full Lefty poured from the
pail as she brought it in frothing, for
her mothers tea. The rest was all con-
verted into money, and except the micro
scopic insurance that came from the
friendly brothers of something to which
the late Mr.. Ely belonged, very little
other lucre found its way into the small
cottage.
Not a hundred yards from this tiniest
of cottages was an imposing stone gate
way leading to the well-kept grounds of
Squire MelvilI. His grand house was
closed all winter, but one of the symp-
toms of spring we'll known to the villa
gers was the renovating and house-clean-
ing which always presaged the coming
of the family. It was the only house of
any pretension near, and was the tangible
evidence of the great financial success
which had been won by this one of the
town boys of the previous generation,
who had left his early home and taken
his chances in one of the worlds great
marts.
The battle of life had left Squire Mel
vile cold, hard and purse proud, and
with enough pride Of another kind to
make him take pleasure in exhibiting his
glory to the eyes of his old associates.
He had meek and invalid wife, whose
fortune had been the stepping stone to
his prosperity, and a son and daughter,
who were we'll liked in Snowden.
The latter was engaged to California
nabob's son, and so was of more conse-
quence IN her gratifed fathers eyes, than
she had ever been before. But the son,
around whose future every ambitious hope
of his worldly father centred, had fallen
in love with pretty Lefty Ely, and the
fact had but just come to that disap-
pointed fathers knowledge.
"John Melville," he had said, "you
are a driveiing idiot. Do you suppose
am going to see the fortune have spent
my life and health in getting, poured
into the lap of beggar, scrub, a dairy
woman. A low creature like the servants
in my kitchen"
There was a storm of angry words be-
tween them, for no man could listen
calmly to abuse of his loved one. Then
the older man, more polite than the
younger, forced his tongue to mildness
that found no echo in his heart, and tried
pathetic appeal to his son, begging him,
for his sake, to surrender his feeting
fancy. But threats ard entreaties had
no effect. Raging with anger, the son
flung himself out of the home followed
by the wrathful insults of his father.
In the vine arched doorway of the lit
tie cottage, Lefty stood with her flower
like face lifted as her eyes looked dreamily
into the blue glory of the summer sky.
Roses massed themselves above her, deli
cate sprays heavy with bloom waved
about her, and climbing vine of the
York and Lancaster wreathed the pillars
that upheld the roof. There were roses
on both sides of her, and in the pink per-
lection of her setting she was the lowell
est flower of all.
''My Rose of Summer" whispered
Jack Melville swinging himself over the
low rail and stealing an arm around her
slight waist.
You are worth fighting for he con-
tinued, as they stepped together into the
little house.
"Fighting, Jack?"
eyes, my precious, l have Just had a
battle royal with my father" and he
flushed as he remembered the soothing
Sights which had been heaped upon his
darling.
Lefty grew pale and wept as Jack gave
her an extended account of the stormy
interview which had left its traces on his
words and looks. When he finished he
saw look Of severe resolution in her
lovely face that astonished him. He
bent to kiss the red lips that a few mo-
mentS before had worn such tender
curves. but she turned her head away.
''Listen, Jack, >" she said solemnly, II
will never, never, never marry a man
whose father refuses to welcome me-"
Lefty" he exclaimed, sis your pride
moro to you than your love Don't VA
know that l can make you happy far
away from all this?"
You will not be happy if you disobev
your father, and if you are unhappy l
shall be wretched."
Pleadings and protest;4tions, although
her own heart echoed them all, failed to
shake her resolve. Her only answer was
the repetition of her determination never
to enter I family without welcome.
The painful interview was ended at
last by Mrs. Ely's hurried entrance with
a message brought in hot haste from Mrs.
Melville. The Squire had been found
unconscious on the 400 OF lis i0rlrr