Dodge City times. [volume] (Dodge City, Kan.) 1876-1892, 1890-04-03

Nal N~n~E, part with her."
| INA E1 GMW Mr.. Simperson
WEN III HfI did not look at
= ,..,N all like a man
S who would suffer
from q broken
heart. His hard, square face, with its
frame of white hair and whiskers, was .
very mask Of practical English common
sense. A village grocer and general
dealer has seldom any inclination to be
romantic, and Mr.. Simperson's prosper
ity in that calling cleared him of any
such suspicion. The affection between
| such a crusty old bachelor and his fair
| young ward and adopted daughter, Eu-
nice Gray, was a standing wonder to the
whole village.
still greater wonder was his unwill-
| ingness to consent to her marriage with
Robert Hartop. ''Old standards the
Hartops were, and Rob, as promising a
| young farmer as there was for miles
! round. ga suld think as waatin' for
| t'young squire to come hoam,' was the
comment of Betty Shear, who's judg-
ment of men and things was not mel
lowed by age. "Or, mebbe, all put up
wi't' parson's lad; as vast o. brass
and t. parson 'uld think twice about
sain' no to 1t.
However, had no such views on the
savings of the f1ourishing little shop,
and l worked with will in favor Of
young Hartop.
Eunice was pretty little child when
first came to the parish. She had Q great
aunt living in the village at that time,
who took, however, little interest in the
child, and dying soon afterward left her
without a friend in the world, save her
adopted father. He was a much crustier
old bachelor in those days than he has
since shown himself. The child, as she
grew, infused a sweetness and grace into
his life to which he had been wholly .
stranger. His exterior was, perhaps, as
grabbed as ever; but 1, who knew him
intimately, and soon learnt to respect
him thoroughly, could trace the working
of her gentle love upon the cross grained
and stubborn, but honest, heart that
beat within.
Who was she? and whence did she
come? Village gossip brought to my ears
ments. Betty Sheard, of course, knew
all about it, but her accounts varied SO
much from year to year, that only one
connecting thread could be traced
through them-a suggestion of some old
slight on the part of Mr.. Simperson.
confess to q certain fondness for gos-
sip. like to know all about my peo-
without repeating, and to listen without
commenting, l think no harm is done,
il take it all as it comes, and winnow
out the grain at my leisure.
Thus l learnt a good deal about Mr..
6imperson and his young charge. I
once burned within him, and that cruel
blows had fallen on his sturdy nature,
and that so had been the forged link that
bound the two together. But he was
always most reticent on the matter him.
self, and it was with great surprise that
found him waiting for me in my study
one day and ready-nay, eager. to tell
1t was soon after his reluctant surren-
der, the withdrawal of his unreasonable
opposition to Hartop's suit. had
spoken rather sharply about 1t, and it
moved me dearly to see how the proud
old man was anxious to excuse his obsti-
macy. He would not avow such q desire,
perhaps, even to himself. His ostensible
reason for seeing me was to ask my ad-
vice about telling Hartop the his
tory. Robert said he did not care
to know anything-he was more than
content with Eunice as she was; but the
floating in the village air and he thought
mistakes, at least, ought to be set right.
He could not bring himself to tell the
young man-there was some latent
jealousy in his heart, no doubt-but
would hear the story and tell Robert As
much as thought fit
shall not tell the story as he told 1t;
it would hardly be Ineligible If did.
Only my previous fragmentary knowl-
edge enabled me to follow his bald out
line, awkwardly told, with reluctant
stammerings and self-respecting omis-
sions. will tell it as wove the whole
together.
Richard Simperson, O dour and silent
man of 45 or whereabouts, was surely
iil-adyised when he thought he could at
tract q young girls fancy. And yet 1t
was in q hopeful mood that he sailed
forth one morning from his dark and
crowded little shop to try his powers OF
wooing. Perhaps he was conscious OF
he attributed more weight than a less
lonely man would have dreamed of.
Perhaps he hoped something-for he was
of no romantic turn-from the existence
of q certain deposit in the FELTON, bank,
and from the more patent advantages OF
q welI-stocked shop and steady custom.
Harriet Fashion was certainly not In
position 10 despiss such things.
He might have relied still more on an.
other advantage, which he was, perhaps,
too slow witted to comprehend. An
orphan from a very early age, with n9
neAr friend bat an aunt, wlooweo ana
poor, at whose cottage she was now
ployment, Harriet Rusnton would not
lightly despise the offer of Q home, en-
independence, an assured position, such
as Simperson could offer her.
1t was a bright autumn day as he went
down through the village by the brook
which borders the road and across which
are some half dozen little bridges lead:
Ing to the various cottages. The mothersS
busy about their houses, and the old folk
summing themselves before the doors,
noted the unusual sight of the shop
keeper In his Sunday clothes-his rough
beaver, his black broad-skirted coat
"Young Richard simperson'' (such 10
was to these contemporaries Of his
father) 'been to Widda. Rushton's,
surely!o quavers an ancient hind; and
Betty Sheard conjectures, "Courtino
belize, that lass o. James; mebbe
there'll be some un 'at IL say noa to t.
banns.p And the old crone's face, I
should think was even less amiable than
usual and doubtless the gossip, inquired
eagerly into the meaning of this dark
hint, and were put of with suncry mods
and grimf ces that might mean much or
nothing.
Richard simpsrson entering the house,
place, found Harriet alone. She was
skilful with her needle, and was busy
with some work from our predecessors at
the parsonage. She looked up with SUR
prise at her visitors. She had known
him almost from childhood; of late he
had taken not a little notice of her,
wherever they had met-in his own
shop, on the village street, in the Sun.
day school, in church, where his hard.
square features added to the awe Of the
church warden's Office and to the terror
OF evfl-doing farm boys. But she had
never before seen him within her aunt's
door. Perhaps she had been conscious
OF something particular in his atten-
dons. There must have have been
something Of the sort, else why should |
dim-eyed Betty Sheard be so ready with
her guessesf and II she saw something, |
Warrant Harriet was not altogether In |
the dark. Anyhow, she received him |
with some nervousness, and . puzzled, !
half-defant look spread over her Taco.
He seated himself squarely on . chair,
q squarely placed BY the little table, and |
then he began to feel that his task was q /
great deal harder than he had expected. |
If IN mt To ho uoA h.A