The Press., 1891-12-17

That's what her Uncle John was in the habit; of saying on an average of once . week.
 Rebecca Buggs was certainly not a TO- mantic name; not half 30 pretty as that of Pearl Pelisse, who lived on the next farm east of the old Buggs homestead in Pennsylvania. But Pearl had freckles as large as shirt buttons, snub nose, high cheek bones, hair the color of her fathers big copper kettle in apple butter boiling time, and last, but not least in her list of disadvantages, Miss Pelisse was cross eyed. Her other physical blemishes she had been able to conceal from the too critical world as soon as she was old enough to wear long gowns. Pearls only pride centered in her name.
 But what indeed is there in name! That small, red, squirming hairless thing which Jacob and Rebecca Buggs, six teen years before the opening of our story, had called Rebecca, had grown into the sweetest, loveliest bud of a woman ever seen in Adams county. And when she sfuttered from the accommo- dation train at Morgan's Mills on that June day, she appeared to the score of rural loungers on the platform like an angel just dropped down from the sweet fields of Eden.
 Rebecca rustled and foated up the platform, trailing scent of violets as she went. The youthful station agent forgot the dignity of his position as he watched her coming toward him, and would have run away most probably had his strength net failed at the su- preme moment. It was clear case of hypnotisrn.
 "Can you tell me how far it is to Jacob Buggs' farm, and how can get therew she asked. .
 The agent, after fearful struggle with his Adams apple, swallowed 1t and stammered:
 ''There is Farmer Buggs now, a-settin on yonder chicken coop" s.
 Rebecca turned quickly, eagerly, Il may be, and shot swift glance at the man "a-settin on wonder chicken coop. J
 It was an old man, with sunburned face and iron gray hair. A fringe of white, bristling beard circled under his chin, and he was dressed in the rough habiliments of the farm. as
 He sat with his shoulders rounded and one leg half suspended in brace made by his clasped hands. In this position he was when Rebecca stepped from the train, and he never changed it while hia eyes followed her up the platform. In deed, all eyes in that idling crowd had made the young lady 8 common target. and the old farmer was not m exception to the power of her magnetic presence.
 He saw her .'paralyize" the station agent; saw the latter stammer 2 reply saw the girl turn and look at him; no ticed her eyes widen under some un- known emotion; became aware that she was approaching; knew that she stood before him, her eyes roaming over his body from the ten-year-old hat on his head to the three dollar pair of cowhide boots upon his number eight feet.
 ''Are you Jacob Buggs?"
 The question came in voice that was like the music of Bill Geiger's flute.
 "I am Jacob Buags, miss, at your sar- vice." said the old man: and then his under jaw dropped once more in silent adoration of the grand goddess before him.
 What immediately followed laid him out as cold as tenpenny nail, he after ward confessed. 8h
 This lovely stranger dropped her tray cling bag st his feet, threw her arms around his neck, printed kiss upon his forehead, high up near the space where the hair long ago had grown, choosing this spot, probably, because 1t was the whitest she could find, began to cry softly and sobbed:
 "I am Rebecca! Take me home to mother" not noticing that her act had created panic among the depot loung- CTS.
 The old man arose with precipitation. He was six feet in height, and Rebecca being but five feet one was compelled to let go her hold around his neck to.pre- vent being suspended by her arms. -- "Great gandersi You don't sayisoi' ,spnttered the old man. You Rebeccal We'll, what'n mother say2 @
 ''Take me to her," sobbed the girl.
 Come along," was the stolid reply. ..'Her Rebeccai Well I'll be dog dasted everlastini Why, Inotheru drop in . fit when she sees the gal. Her Rebeccar'
 And by the time the canailie of the station at Morgan's Mills got their sec Sond wind. Farmer Buggs' old gray mare was dashing away from the station at 2 four-twenty pace down the Gravel Creek pike hitched to Jacob Buggs' red spring wagon, in which sat RebeccA going home to her mother.
 When the farmer and his strange guest had disappeared around : hill in the dis tarice, the crowd came out Of its trance and the seven days wonder became { source of discussion Three Saratogs trunks were discovered upon the plat form, and one Saratoga trunk in that out of the way place would have been g sensation. Three constituted material for turmoil.
 They were marked with the initials "R. B., and evidently belonged to ons person or party. xfr asgFs
 Late in the evening of the same day Farmer Buggs' "handr came to the sta ton with the checks for fhe three trunks loaded them upon the hay wagon and drove away in proud, mysterious txi umph. Of course he was beset with questions from the loungers who had moi yet learned the name of Jake Buggs visitor. But the hired man professed ignorance upon that point. As near as he could guess, it was Queen Victoria'i youngest daughter.
 Of course everybody knew the hired hand didn't really mean it, but there was not man in the crowd who would not have found 1t easier to believe they had seen one of ths royal pfincesses oi England ride away h Jake Buggs spring wagon than to hswe believed | was his daughter.
 Somehow the impression prevailed around and about Norgan's Mills thai the Buggses were childless. Jane wa, clad in black when she and Jake landed at the Mills some eight years before.