Waterbury evening Democrat., 1890-03-21
CHAPTER XIX.
THE MOUNTAIN RANCH.

THE MOUNTAIN RANCH. It was high noon when our friends reached Phippsburg. and they were still fifteen miles from the new home to which they were going.
 The girls had not yet arrived, the steamer on which they lad taken pas sage having grounded upon a bar formed from the washing from tho mines.
 back, and his parents feared to take him further that day over the rough roads
 It was decided, therefore, that Mrs. Parsons and Johnny should remain at the hotel in Phippsburg, While the men went on with the goods, and that on the morrow when they returned. the heavy wagon and carriage wit the team which Mr. Blake was to lave should be turned over to him and the family should go on in the spring wagon.
 Small as it was, the expense of re- maining at the hotel was sad draw on the few remain ng dollars in the posses sion of John and Martha Parsons, but it could not be helped and the teams drove on and left them.
 Towards evening the boat arrived, and on it came Jennie and Lucy. Mrs.
 
 down to the landing, but watched at tle hotel window and beckoned to them as they came up the opposite side of the street.
 When the girls saw their mother they hurried across the street to the hotel and into the s;tting-ro where she awaited them, and in another moment all three were crying upon each others shoulders.
 ''Oh mother, mother, it's awful to think that the old place is lost, buried by the overflow from those mines; is there no way to save itP Can't it be fioated off againp" sobbed Lucy, her whole frame shaking with excitement. 'I can't bear to live and know that you and father are driven out of your com fortable home and forced to begin on a piece of wild land again. ] wish you would go to town and live and let mo teach school and support you. I'm sure could do it.
 You must not take it SO hard, dears," returned their mother, still holding the girls close to her. "True, it is very sad to be obliged to give up the old home. but no doubt we shall be very comfortable on the new place when we get it fixed up a tile. What hurts me most is knowledge that we may never be abl, to visit you if you go so far away as l suppose you will do when you are married to Mir. Annelscy"
 'Il never marry, mother. never," sobbed Lucy. 'I have written Mir. Annclsey and broken off our engage ment, and am going to stay with you and father and help take care of Johnny as long as live. You need not say word against it, for it is too late; the letter is half way to New York by this time''
 To say that Mrs. Parsons was greatly surprised at this would be but to state the truth. To say that she greatly re- gretted it would not be so true.
 She had felt certain degree of pride in tho thought that Lucy would marry wealthy, and had sought to obtain com- fort for tho supposed coming separa- tion in the knowledge that her daughter could want for nothing which wealth could buy, yet at times had feared that Lucy might not find happiness in the union. and wondered if it would not have been better for her to have mar ried Erastus.
 Especially since the last great trouble had come upon them. and she saw how her husband was breaking under it, she could not help thinking how much con- fort it would have been to him, and to herself, if the young folks could have found their happiness in wedding each other and remaining with or near them in their old age. And now, while she scolded Lucy tile for her haste in the matter, she could not but feel thank ful at heart at her child was not to go from her, at least for tho present. Jennie joined her sister in deploring the loss of their old home. and wept aloud and violently when her mother spoke of separ ation, but she did not offer to teach school to support her parents. and when her mother gently