The progressive farmer. [volume] (Winston, N.C.) 1886-1904, 1891-09-29
A COUNTRY IDYL.

alone are left, the dams are broken
and the water falls over the scattered
rocks, making music in harmony with
the winds among the pines. The houses
have gone to decay; the roofs have
fallen in, leaving the great, rough
chimneys standing like the Druid
towers of Ireland.
In one of these old houses, before the
young men of New England had gone
West to seek their fortunes, lived a
young miller and his wife. They were
happy save that no children had come
into the home. Finally a sister of the
wife died, b~equeathing her little girl to
the Nineveh household.
Nellie Crandall grew from b~abyhood
the picture of health, an innocent,
cheerful girl, in sweet accord with
the daisies Of the fields, and the old
fashioned flowers she cared for in her
foster-mother's garden.
In the house across the way lived
John Harding, a tall, awkward boy,
the pride Of the country school for
his good scholarship, and in principle
as strong as the New England hills he
lived among.
John and Nellie had played together
from childhood. He had made chains
for her neck of the pine needles; she
had fastened golden coreopsis in his
hOmespun coat, and while no word
had been spoken the neighboring peo-
pie expected that a new house would
| sometimes be built in Nineveh, and a
young couple begin anew the beautiful
commonplace of life.
There was considerable excitement
one morning in the quiet town. Byron
Marshall, a city youth, had come to
Nineveh to visit the Monroe family.
cousins of the H%ardings. Byron was a
handsome, slender lad, we'll hammered,
just leaving college and ready for a
profession. He met Nellie Crandall
and was pleased with the natural,
country girl.
"No goodu come of it" said one of
the old ladies Of Nineveh. 4 never
believed in mismating. John Harding
would give his life for that girl, while
the city youth, I know, is a selfish
fellow
The summer wore away with rides
and pic-nics, and if Johns heart was
panied at the attentions given to Nellie,
and accepted by her, he said nothing.
After Byron's return to the city a
correspondence was begun by him.
One Sunday evening when John
came as usual to see Nellie, and they
were sitting in the moonlight beside
the old mill at the bridge, he said alb
ruptly, I'm going away from home,
Nellie. I have begun to think you
wouldn't mind since Byron came"
But l do mind" said the girl. Il
like Byron, and he seems fond of me,
but John, I dontwant you to go, we've
been such good friends"
Eyes, but we must be all in all to
each other, or 1 can't stay. I've loved
you all these years with never athought
of another. I've loved every flower in
your garden, because you have tended
it. This old mill seems precious be-
cause you have sat here. All Nineveh
is sacred to me because it is your home,
but I cannot stay here now"
Nellie was young; she had seen little
of the world, did not know the true
from the false, and half captivated
with the college youth, she dare not
give her promise to John.
They parted in the moonlight, he
heavy of heart at going, and she re-
greeting that two loved her. John went
to a distant State and found employ
ment. No word came from him and
| Nellie, who missed him sadly, depended
more than ever on the letters which
came from Byron.
The next summer Byron spent at
| Nineveh, and it was talked about the
little town that Nellie was engaged and
would soon be a city lady, living in
comfort and prominence.
Two years later there was a wedding
at the Crandall home, and the pretty
bride said good-by to the old mill and
the great pines, and left the miller and
his wife desolate. Two years after
wards, when she brought back a little
son named Samuel, after the miller,
they were in a comforted,
though they never liked Byron as
we'll as John, "who was Of their
kind"
When John Harding knew that Mel
lie was really lost to him and married