The Bennington banner. [volume] (Bennington, Vt.) 1858-1894, 1892-12-02

regularly past, the dust flew, Aunt Ce-
ella was pulling frantically at the lines
with not the slightest effect. They would
be overturned in the ditch and hurt
perhaps killed.
In which ditch? Cora found her be-
numbed mind concentrating itself on
that whimsical question. On which side
of the road would they be found with
broken arms or necks?
upon my soul" said Aunt Cecilia,
twenty seconds later.
Dan was stopped-caught by the bit by
strong hand, whose possessor had first
broken his speed by springing into his
path and turning him aside. The hand
was not so strong, though, but that IL
felt the powerful wrench; the young
man looked pale, and was wincing, His
hat was in the dust and some dark curls
lay very becomingly on his forehead.
He was tall. broad shouldered, strong
faced, and was smiling pleasantly up at
them, and bowling to Cora, too.
Aunt Cecilia reiterated her statement.
Upon my soul! Have you sprained
your wrist? You certainly have. Well,
| never saw anything drawer. WELL"
said Aunt Cecilia, wiping her flushed,
excited ia e, II can't express myself at
all! You might have been seriously in
| jured, were you aware of that? 1t isn't
| every man that would risk his own life
| to save strangers. Who are you?"
Aunt Cecilia demanded, her intent, adj
mring eyes rowing from the tall head to
the firm-set feet of their preserver.
ALBERT Pierce, madam. Don't thank
me, beg of your he said. 81 am so
| CLAN to have been of service to you and
Miss Cora"
His comely face shone.
"Oh, Mr.. PiOrceu' Aunt Cecilia said,
mildly, cycling him thoughtfully. From
| West GainesborO'?'
From Russell county, madam-from
Saalsberg," said Mr.. Pierce
you don't say sop Aunt Cecilia
cried. 81 once knew John Pierce who
moved to Saalsberg, Russell county, from
my native town, PhUn-'
'PhGnica," said Albert, yet more
smilingly. "Hanen't | heard him t. II
them by heart? John Pierce was my
father, Mrs. Turner"
Dead" said Aunt Cecilia, her face
softened "Yes, yes. | remem Der hear
ing when John Pierce died. A fine man
he was-a man in every sense, and of a
fine family. And this is his son And
his son has saved two lives"
"NonSense!' his son protested. "Ex-
cuse me, Mrs. Turner
Two lives" said Aunt Celia, (which
| risked hy my own rashness. | will try
| to thank you. Mr.. Pierce. Will you
| drive us home?' Aunt Cecilia queried,
| abruptly, t-erc being slight culver in
her voice and an eloquent look in her
eyes.
He was i'll the phRton in a second, his
feet among the jugs and his eyes on
Cora. Hers were dropped, and the
rapidity with which her breath came was
not accol nted for by her fright, which
had passed over.
II thought you would be at the picnic
to-day" she faltered
Did you imagine would go without
you?"
You come home to supper with u.s."
broke in Aunt Cecilia. IL have a salve
which is unequaled for sprains. You
must let me bandage your wrist. John
Pierce's sonl How strangely things do
come abOutI'
IL don't believe it's sprained," replied
Mr., Pierce; but he looked happy.
Aunt Cecilia was in good spirits at
supper. She looked John Pielce's son
over; listened attentively to what he had
to say, and when he had gone she
pinched her nicce's cheeks and said with
sigh:
~ suppose if it is to be, Cora, l can
stand it. | don't want to lose you for
some years yet, and don't think | should
have looked with favor upon any one
else. But son of John Pierce
You will burn up that awful old blue
handkerchief, won't you Aunt Cecila?"
said Cora, laughing, as she kissed her.
ITS so-unb5coming And you've had
it twenty-five years; and"
Just as you say, my dear" said Aunt
Cecilia, placidIy.