The Sunday morning news. [volume] (Jersey City [N.J.]) 1886-1891, 1891-10-18

quite pale under his coat of tan, reflect
ing the color of her own face. Phemy
had hid her face in her frock and was
crouching down to shut out the dreadful
sight.
Il can't look,1 she muttered; 81 don't
dast to-"
The little bridge was without guards,
save two rotten logs crossing the ends Of
the crazy planks. The whole structure
was about ten feet above the water and
a bed Of irregular, sharp pointed rocks.
"Why don't you run, John Burns"
said his wife hoarsely. ''You look as il
you was froze stiff as an icicle.
"What good would it dor muttered
John, running the words all together in
his throat.
Phemy looked up for an instant. The
right hind wheel Of the cart hung over
the stream, and Selin was prancing and
paving the air as he backed down to de-
struction. They held their breath. Mrs
Burns still clutched Johns arm.
Phemys face was again buried in her
frock when she heard Burns say: Jim
miny, she's saved herself by a tight
squeak. That's as nervy a gal as ever
did see"
Agnes had applied smart cut to
Selim's sensitive flesh, and the wild, ex-
cited horse had sprung off the bridge
into the road, wrenching away large
piece Of the rotten log in his course.
.'Mercy to me, what is she dom nowG"
cried Mrs. Burns. Would she dast to
lay on the whip an thrash him within an
inch of his lfeY'
"No," said John, "'pears to me she's
singin. Seems like hear her voice way
up above the rattle of the wheels. She's
safe enough now if she gives him his
head and keeps in the road. But do see
him tear as straight as an arrer. Whewi
What grit that gal has got--a regular
chip of the old block"
Look" cried Phemy from her perch
''she's stopped this side Of Baldwin's. I"
Sure enough Selim, as if magnetized by
a will stronger than his own, had halted
shivering in every limb, with great
fecks Of foam dripping from his lips and
q steaming lather covering his TANKS
that ran down his fetlocls and formed
little puddles on the ground. Agnes
was ont Of the wagon now, coaxing and
caressing and giving him courage. There
was no more prancing that day with
three legs in the air. The proud, sensi-
tive creature had bent his neck to the
yoke, and when he trotted obediently
into Littlefeld the day was still young;
only the marketmen, the factory people
and the maid servants were astir.
She looked up the handsome elm shad-
ed street toward lakewood and caught a
glimpse Of the great iron gates of her
former home at the end of the avenue,
IN the cool depths of turf and bloom,
where the birds were singing. She drove
slowly, feeling herself alien to all that
old life; but she kept on her way to the
market, more determined than ever to
become thoroughly practical woman
The lamentations of her family over the
loss of fortune and her own perversity
were to Agnes WEAKNESS of the flesh
and spirit. She Rugged the sense of free
dom she had found at Scrabble Hill, and
exulted in it with a kind of childish
glee. Her experiment of turning farmer
was developing far better than she had
expected, and in comparison the old life
of show and amusement looked poor and
fimsy.
! Mrs. Purse was at her door in a morn
ing wrapper and crinping pins, ready
to patronize the daughter Of the proud
but fallen Ransoms by taking from her
a limited daily supply of fresh vege.
tables. But she was disappointed to see
Agnes drive past toward the market. Il
the green grocers decline to take her
load, of course she will then be forced TIC
peddle her stuff through town, thought
Mrs. Purse, and she hoped such might
be the case. But even to the atrabiliouf
and tart natured Mrs. Purse, somewhat
perverted by secretly rejoicing IN her
neighbours misfortune, the bringing
down Of o proud and stiff necked genera
ton, Agnes on the seat of the market
cart, guiding the now obedient Selin,
was more beautiful than ever before.
She drove straight to the fruit and vege
table stall Of Scales and Markham, where
she hoped to dispose of her load. Scale:
was high colored man, dapper and neat
and rather overscented with bergamoi
and hair oil to suit the taste Of his fash
ionable lady customers. Now he stepped
out in spotless linen apron, a long pen
Gil behind his ear, q red carnation in his
buttonhole, smiling at the sight of Agnes
Ransom in the market cart. The young
man had never before dared to lift hi
eyes to the face OF the millionairel
daughter, but q little holiness and ia
miliarity might be pardoned now by /;
girl in market wagon.
Good morning, Miss Agnes"-he wht
never before had ventured to breath,
the name Of Agnes.
Good morning, Mr.. Scales, returned
the young lady, with naughty delibera
tion.
/ The young man turned vivid bricl
red NJ TO the roots Of his hair, the colo
e grass