Crawford avalanche. (Grayling, Mich.) 1879-19??, 1891-11-19

Ii was excellent soil and they grew
rapidly. They were splashed-that is
bent lengthwise along the row and pinned
to the ground, that they might become
impenetrable when from the PROSTATE
branches others would shoot up. And
the feeling which began with the sug-
gestion of the fence grew with its growth.
Obed talked IL over at home with his
wife, and Nancy thought it over in hours
of loneliness.
Obed's wife's relations thought it an
outrage. and advised Obed TO get out an
injunction or something of the sort. But
Obed had wisdom enough left TO refrain
from legal proceedings.
.'Twould be going from bad to wuss,"
he remarked, ''and | don't see how q
body'd mime lot O. CROWN stuff like
that"
Then another idea took possession of
Nancy. She seldom saw 0bed now
even the children did not come to see
her. 1t was so much farther around the
road, aud the old path was closed. Obed
had ceased to farm her portion, saying
he ''s'poscd she'd want to run her place,
as she'd run her fence, alone;" and she
had promptly and spiritedly replied that
she could do it well enough. So at last
she felt herself left to the mercies of her
hired man, Ike.
"Ye're goin' to have that fence
trimmed up?" Ike queried, one morning.
She looked out. How it had grown !!
Those plants had been in perfect sympa-
thy with her. They had sent out branches
in every direction, until the line was a
mass of thorn-cove branches. The
hedge was impenetrable.
Serves EN- right" she exclaimed,
under her breath. They'd no business
10 make sech fuss over that cows
doin's, nor over that fence neither. No.
amt goin' to trim it. Let il grow" she
went on, in a lower tone, It'll we can't
SEQ nothin' of nary one of us"
That was how the long line of thickly
interviewer branches came to be left to
shoot skyward untrimmed, until it lost
oil likeness to the hedge she had at first
planned.
She was nervous and trembling from
an attack of neuralgia one September
morning when Ike informed her, as he
swallowed his third cup of coffee, that
the barn leaked like all git-out, an the
hayd got wet, the cow'd got the collie
eatin' apples, and Nep'd gone lame with
one of them sage thorns in his foot"
ending with the announcement, "Obeds
We gone to the Fair, an I'm goin', too.
They didn't use to forget to ask. me
to go with en-, Nancy murmued TO her.
self, as she hurried off TO the east room
which faced the hedge.
To be sure, she knew she had before
now refused to 60 to the Fair with them,
saying she had Nep; but he was lame
Then there was the barn, and the COW. If
the orchard fence had been built, she
would not have had the collie.
Then came the thought that there used
to be no worry for her when Obed had
charge; but he had left her alone.
She turned to the window involuntarily,
and looked over the fields as she had
done daily for years; but she could see
nothing now but tall, waving branches,
which seemed TO nod at her and say,
"You see we've done il; aren't you
glad?" The aspiring tree-tops had at
last fulfilled her wish; at last she could
She was alone indeed-and she was in
tensely miserable.
Ike drove off as she looked, calling out
TO her that the COW was dead. She saw
Nep limping out by the hedge, and she
went back to the kitchen with an aching
heart and throbbing head.
The day was long one. How many
times she went to the east room TO look
towards Obed's she could not have told
1t was late in the afternoon when she
aimlessly wandered there again. Had
Obed's folks come home? Blue smoke
was curling up. But they would stay
late at the Fair on Thursday best
day.
Bonnie must be at home. She did re-
member that Ike said he had cut his foot;
but she had not been there.
A CLOUD of smoke rolled up. She picked
up another pair of glasses and put them on
That was flame that shot up above the
trees then, surely! Something was
wrong.
She shook violently as she hurried
back to the kitchen. How could she get
-lstso-sssw~t--esvi---I t---~~---toafa far
around. There was the old path; bus
the hedge was too thick TO penetrete.
One second she hesitated; then her eye
fell on the axe by the wood-pile, and
catching it up, she hurried down the old
path.
But who was that? Mile, six-year-old
Mile, this side of the hedge. her dress
torn, her face and hands scratched, and
the tears rolling down her checks. She
had pierced the hedge
Aunt Nancy! Aunt Nancy The
house-nfire-Bc was all she
could say.
Nancy Mott was never able to tell
Just how she did it. But she forgot rheu-
matism and neuralgia pains. The axe
was sharp, the place the child had in
stinctively chosen was the thinnest-
Nancy dimly recolected that the men
said it would not grow so well on the old,
beaten pathway-and the tough stems
fell before even her weak, awkward
strokes.
She soon had made an opening large
enough to crawl through and leading
Mile by the hand, she dragged her trem-
bling limbs to the bouse.
Sheets of flame poured from the Chin
ney, and the house was fairly enveloped
in pail of smoke. In the kitchen the
atmosphere was thick with smoke and the
odor of burning wood and sweets
As soon as she could see clearly she
discovered Bonnie upon one foot, hob
bling about, frnntically pushing back
great pieces of burning SCOT which fell
behind the old "fireboard,' or dashing
water from the bucket upon the board it
Il Al. 2