The Democratic press. [volume] (Ravenna, O. [Ohio]) 1868-1901, 1892-03-23

llte' and went on as before:
After breakfast, which Orrin Hal
pines ugly temper made more than
usually unpleasant, Hattie took a pail
and walked down to the spring, near
the stage road. 1t was cool and quiet
down there, and at this time of day
there was seldom any one passing, so
Hattie, worn out with night of wake
fulness-for Orrin Halpine had come
home drunk, and she feared for
the consequences to her mother-sat
down by the spring to rest and think.
The long, dreary, unhappy year that
had gone by-had it brought anything
to reward the sacrifice she had made?
Would not her mothers life have been
really more endurable without her?
For she was the cause of much of the
trouble between Halpine and her
mother.
And what good had her sacrifice
done? Where would it all end? Her
mother would miss her if she went
away; but she asked, little bitterly,
I How long?"
These and other thoughts crowded
into her mind, and spirit of pure
selfshness, she had never before felt
entered into them. Why should she,
after all, throw away everything the
world held for her for the sake of her
weak, selfish mother and those little
Halpines? She never thought of them
as being anything more to her than
Orrin Halpine's children. Had she not
rights as well as others? And-she
had foolishly thrown away the only
chance her life had held. No, there
had been Sam Hollis. What would he
not have done for her! But she had
told him that she could not care for
him as he deserved, and he went
away-to Louisville, it was said, but
she did not know, for he sent no word,
though she heard he was doing well.
If he would only come back! She
thought she would be kinder to him,
and they would be happy. Would
theyP She was not quite sure, for she
did not feel certain that she could
ever love him-and suppose they
should marry, and Sam, poor, sensi-
tive, loving fellow, should learn for
| certain that she did not care for him
as he did fer-heffaa He had not be-
lieved it before. But Sam had gone
and it was not likely that she would
ever see him again. Even if he should
come back, and ask her to be his wife,
could she be wicked enough to accept
himP And poor Hattie bowed her
aching head on the cool stone and sob
bed bitterly.
A tall young man, in "store Clothes"
came along the road, whistling softly.
He saw the detected figure by the
spring, and his heart leaped.
Hattie! is it yo', honeyP"
"Sam! oh, Sam!" And then she was
in his arms, and his kind, honest voice
was whispering sweet passionate
words in her ear. He had tried to stay
away, he said, but could not. He had
to come back and see her once more;
and
Hattie, darlin', will yo' come nowp
I cyarn't git long, nohow 'thout yeh.
! Yo' mus come, honey. 1 shan't go
way an leave yo' hyar. I'm doin'
well, an yo' knows luv yeh, anil be
good t. yeh. VIII yo' come, honey?"
The girl did not answer at once.
There was battle, and hard one,
going on in that true little heart, and
/ Hattie's better self was winning.
Presently she choked back the sobs
and looked tearfully up into the kind,
brown eyes which gazed at her SO
longingly-and her battle was won.
sam! sam! Ell yo' on'y knoWed how
hard it is fer me! But cyarn't, Sam.
It'd be too wicked-fer hain't changed
none. God knows wish L c'u'd go
with yo', Sam-but like yeh too much
fer t. make yeh mis'able all yo're life,
No, don't-don't say anythin' mo-! 1t
on'y make me feel wusser, an kin do
no good. Go, an fergit it all, honey.
Good-bye-good-bye."
The man understood, and did not
speak. He only pressed the tired form
closer, and kissed the-for once-un-
resisting lips again and again, turned
suddenly and was gone.
Hattie, with burning eyes, watched
the strong, manly form until it dis
appeared around the sharp bend in
road below. Then she took the pail
and dragged herself back to the thorns
and crosses and misery of the old life.
R. L.Kctchx7l2, in Arg021aatt.