Rock Island daily Argus. (Rock Island, Ill.) 1886-1893, 1892-02-20

a raw November evening. Yet that was
what Ned Anthony was doing.
The fence wound along the hillside in
the zigzag fashion of its kind, leaning
now to the right, now to the left, and
humoring the inequalities on the ground
handsomely. 1t was a new fence, ag-
gressiyely new in contrast to the gray of
the sky and the subdued drabs and
browns of the rocks. the bare branches
and the fallen leaves. The clean split
sides of the chestnut rails shone Whitley,
and the stakes which held all secure
where the rails Tapped at the corners
were finished off with workmanlike
caps, made OF bits of boards with a
couple of anger holes drilled through
them, instead Of the usual slovenly twist
of wild grapevine. A thrifty looking
fence, stout and ubstantial-evidently
the line fence inclosing the property OF
thrifty and substantial man.
The proprietor sat upon it and stared
about him, whistling softly and trim
ming a hickory stick cut in the woods
Just back Of kim. The land, twelve hun
bred acres of it, had formerly been a
portion of the patrimOnial estate of the
Beverley family, to whose present rep
resentatives there remained the old fam
lily dwelling and modest surrounding
of three hundred acres at the upper end
of the original tract. Mr.. Anthony had
desired to become possessor of the entire
plantation, house and land, just as it
had passed from father to son in the
Beverley line, and to that end had in
structed his lawyer not to stand on an
extra thousand or two, and had learned,
to his surprise and disappointment, that
| the tract had been divided, and that the
upper end of the farm, including the
house and lots about it, had been as
signed to Mrs. Hector Beverley in lieu
Of her right of dover in the whole.
1T is hers in fee" the lawyer wrote.
being naturally proud Of good COM
| promise with creditors effected by his
| own sagacity, land l hardly think any
| offer would induce her to part with it,
as she is deeply attached to the place,
although no. born Beverley. | have
! secured the major portion of the estate
for you at more advantageous terms
/ than those suggested by yourself, and
| have had the necessary papers recorded
/ as per direction. The body of land is
fine, bat the buildings are inferior-only
/ a dozen or so cabins and the old over
/ seer's house. All the home buildings
are on the widows part. However, if
You propose settling in Virginia, You
will Of course soon remedy all that"
THE devil wili!'' muttered the impa-
tent recipient of the epistle from which
/ the above sentence is quoted. What in
thunder does he suppose | wanted with
! the land without the house? can have
new houses by the dozen; what wanted
was the old one. didn't know the old
lady was living still She must be hard
on to seventy, for she had left the mid
! die mile stone well behind twenty years
ago. I'd have liked owning the old
house; though the Lord knows what
want with it, or the land either!'
| However, he wrote to the lawyer again.
! giving the necessary instructions about
fencing and other matters, and intimat-
ing that his business might require his
presence in the east before many months
had passed, and that in that event he
would probably visit Virginia.
The months had passed, bringing with
| them the necessity which Mr.. Anthony
had forecast. He had come east and
was now in Virginia He had arrived
in the village the evening before and es-
tablished himself for the present at the
solitary boarding house at could not be
called hoteD of the place, which was
kept by new people, who had been resi-
dent in the village only matter of ten
or twelve years and of course were I'M
connected with that bygone time which
to Anthony seemed to move forward and
join hands with the present the moment
he left the train at the wayside station
| Twenty years. Had it been twenty
years since he had seen it all? 1t might
have been twenty days, he thought at
first, for the little change apparent. The
same river flowing on with gracious
curves and windings, the same willows
on its banks, the same fields and hills,
the same soft blue mountains in the dis
lance. Could it be twenty years since
he had seen it?
1t was fair picture for loving eyes to
rest upon, and even tine chill unkindneSs
of the November evening could not
spoil it; but the eyes that gazed from
under dropping lids were more critical
I than loving. Soon to their searching
quest changes began to make themselves
apparent. In place of the sleepy old ca
nal of his boyhood there was single
track, unprosperous looking railway,
and telegraph poles marked the line of
what was formerly the towpath.
And there were endless quiet changes
of the kind that mark the progress of de-
cay, the slow inroads of poverty and
desolation. Twenty years had left be-
hind them traces of their fight in CALLED
and quilted fields that formerly were fer
tile, in hillsides grown up thickly with
! broom sedge and sassafras, and in gen
eral dilapidation of fencing and build
ings. What the devastation of war had
! commenced pOyerty and unthrift were