Connecticut western news., 1892-04-28

made her way slowly toward the time worn tower, which stood like some giant sentinel watching over the bleak waste.

made her way slowly toward the time worn tower, which stood like some giant sentinel watching over the bleak waste
 In a very few days Hob of the Butts again found himself in the vicinity of the tower. and with a witness which those who were acquainted with his frank and open nature would never have given him credit for. he carried on his shoulders fat doe. which he humbly offered to Michael Rexthorpe as d trib- ute from one who. though. ignorant. was a devoted adlnirer of learning.
 The cunning old man fathomed the handsome forester's motive in a mo ment, but he was not one to cast away gifts, even though he felt in his heart that Hob of the Butts had magnet in Sybil Tressider. He received him gra- ciously and accepted the rSesent.
 Sybil and the forester had now many opportunities of meeting. and a strong feeling of affection sprang mp between them-not unnoticed by the keen eyes of Michael
 There were times when he felt inclined to rend his snow white beard with disap pointment.
 And now began new life for Hob of the Butts His former sylvan haunts and gay companions knew him not, for he became Michael Rexthorpes drudge. a mere newer of wood and drawer of water. and yet he felt that this unac- customed toll was amply repaid by the opportunity of breathing his love in Sybil's ear and hearing her shy answer in response.
 One day Michaers countenance was full of triumph Il have found themr cried he. "l have found them. am not quite certain of eternal youth, for that will be a gradual process: but of the waters of oblivion l have no doubt. have, however. hit upon sure means of testing the latter and will do so on that jolter headed archer and see if it will make him forget Sybil."
 He hastened away to the keeping room of the tower with the silver goblets. each containing small quantity of some liquid, pure and colorless as crystal.
 ''l will quaf youth" said he, while the archer shall drain the cup of obliv- ion to the dregs."
 Meanwhile the lovers were engaged in earnest conversation beneath a pink May tree. which grew on the south side of the tower.
 Have you not made up your mind yet, dearest Sybil?' murnured the arch CT in impassioned tones: twill you not exchange this dull tower and the harsh words of your guardian for the sweet retreats of the merry greenwood?
 "The prior of St. Williston's chapel is ready to join our band and my trusty comrades will give you hearty wei come. Fly with me, then, and do not waste your young life here"
 For awhile the maiden hesitated. and then with deep blush consented to fol low her lover.
 They returned, and as she entered the keeping room she saw her guardian carefully placing two silver goblets upon the table.
 Where hast thou been, gadabout?" said he. with an angry frown. and where is that oaf of a bowman? Send him hither and l will hasten him up by partaking of cup of strong waters with him before ne goes forth on his quest"
  ends of the table and then shambled out of the room. AS he did so the girl caught malicious twinkle in his eye. which raised her suspicious. and with lightninglike rapidity she reversed the positions of the cups: then hastening to her lover she whispered few words in his ear.
 He nodded, and in few seconds en- tered the room. where the seeker after the mysteries of the occult was in wait ing.
 You want some venison. hear Master Rexthorpe," said the forester. "l can lay my hands upon fair white doe in half an hour"
 Iris we'll" answered Rexthorpe, rubbing his hands; but before thou goest drain this. twill hearten thee up"
 The forester tossed off the contents of the goblet and was about to leave the room when the old man said. "Whither goest thou, Hob?''
 ITO the broken cross" answered the forester.
 "Good He hath forgotten all about the doe." said Michael gleefully. The potion works already. Now for my change"
 He drained off the contents of the chalice and fell stricken to death, while the forester and the maiden journeyed on to where ligie and happiness awaited them, for love has been ever the spring of eternal youth, while it is only deaths hand that can brew the liquor which fills the cup of oblivion. Gilbert Camp bell, Bart, in Boston Globe.