The Forest Republican. [volume] (Tionesta, Pa.) 1869-1952, 1890-08-06

secret understanding, then, was between
her and Fiducia's fat cousin.
SCOT the new cider.mill done yetl"
said Mr.. Baldwin, showing back his
chair. "Supposing you and l take a
walk down that way, Eunice1 Come,
get your bunnitl"
The lineman's heart thumped, and the
color rose in his boYishly fair face in i'm
potently rebellious misery. lie lifted
piteous blue eyes to Eunice.
She returned his look like a sympa-
thizing angel-though she was somebody
else's angel-she said, with dropped
eyes;
"Won't you go, too, Mr.. Milesl"
"Go 'longi" said Abner.
But Mr.. Baldwin stood tall and black
and all-pervading and formidable. He
was taking Eunice's shawl from the
lounge and putting it-yes, putting it
around her, with some bold pleas
antry.
The lineman had got timidly to his
feet, but he sat down again, a little
pale.
"I'm feeling kind of tired" he muir
INJURED. 81 guess l won't"
And Eunlce and Fiducia's cousin went
off together, the tones of bis jubilant,
heavy voice floating back
"Real good, jolly feller, Silas is"
said Fiducia, picking up the dishes,
"now amt hel"
"Seems So" said the lneman. mechan-
ically.
eyes," said Fiducia. "Good luck
hain't spoilt him. He's made out of
that grocery over there-well, goodness
knows how much; but 1 guess he's
rich"
Yes, Mr.. Baldwin wore the air of
prosperity; the lineman had noted it.
And he--he was lineman.
"Yes, we think considerable of Silas, Z"
Fiducia concluded "Eunice, now-he
and Eunice are real cronies."
$50 they be, said the lineman, husk-
lily.
Once, somewhere back in that brightly
hopeful past of which nothing now re-
mained but cold ashes, he had felt GER
tain that Fiducia favored him.
Nobody favored him now he supposed
the truth was that nobody ever had.
He was forlorn, miserable, sick at heart.
He had not fully known the depth of his
atfectionate, big heart till now; and
now he had guaged it only to feel that
! sudden death-say from lightning or an
xp.osion-would be quite welcome.
Everybody was not against him.
Sammy and Molly were sitting on his
lap, and pulling his chin hither and
thither and chattering; and while Alb
ner did the barn chores and Fiducia
washed the dishes, the lineman told in
teresting anecdotes to the children in a
forced and hollow way. But escaping at
last, he put on his hat and wandered out
in the early dusk.
He felt that to witness the serene re-
turn of Eunice and the fat grocer would
be more than he could calmly endure at
present.
He walked up the street; Eunice and
Fiducia's cousin had gone down.
The edge of the spring evening was
pleasantness itself The cherry trees
made white clouds in the air; the yards
he passed gave forth fowery odors; a
robin poured out It's CHEEKY evening call.
In another mood the lineman, who was
warmly appreciative, would have thrilled
with happiness; but with his sad, honest
blue eyes on far tree top, he Jagged
along without a clear realization of any
thing.
He found himself presently at the spot
! ltxyb GtOIoc ho1 nn,nr,apra1 Ahat
afternoon. His ladder was leaning
against the high pole, and his portable
tool-boX, on wheels, was standing near
it.
It was locked, but the lineman had a
key, and rather aimlessly he unlocked it.
The condition of the pole and the tools
lying ready in the box made clear the
amount Of work Stokes had done, and
what he intended doing next.
His colleague reflected. He had as
great dread of going back to Abner
Lanes and encountering Eunice and his
rival as his manly heart had ever known.
If he found something to keep him
if he could tell them he had been at work
he might stay here till pitch dark and
NuCu BO biNh dhu ~ W DSh, duu Stt tuS
repairs finished tomorrow and leave
Ridgeyille tomorrow night-Ridgeville
till his next trip and Eunice forever.
Yes. With something remarkably
like a sob in his throat, the young line
man put on Stokes's spiked "climbers, "
filed his pockets with hammer and nails
and glass insulators, and climbed the
ladder.
He was not feeling very clear-headed,
somehow or other, and it was getting
dark. What was the matter with the
"climbers" They did not seem to
bite
But he left the ladder and mounted
the pole. Even before he had held the
possibility of falling in keen dread
which his muscular agility, however,
rendered most remote; but now he felt
as though fatal tumble would be rather
pleasant than otherwise. The lineman
was in a desperate mood.
What next occurred, though, was not
the result of recklessness. How did il
happen2 The lineman could not have
told them then or after.
He neared the lowest crosspieoe and
threw his right leg over it. The grasp