The Opelousas courier., 1892-02-20
with a comprehension OF its meaning.

with a comprehension OF its meaning.
| Nora looked across the yellow field.
s'He said he would live in the little
| brick house next to the toll-gate; the
one the Shakers own; and just for a
minute it seemed to me as if it would be
sweet to have a home where | belonged
Il can't stay with nay aunt any more;
and then all 1T ono it came over me that
| had seen you cutting grass in the yard
of that very house, NEUTRALITY-SUSPICIOUS.
I knew I couldn't marry him ever
ever!"
The young Shakers hand trembled on
her hair.
II am going to take care of you," he
said, almost sternly, as if he were claim
ing a right another had infringed.
Was it so wrong, thens Was it not a
mans part to shield the helpless Reason
took him down. There were the Shaker
folk at a mere stone's-throv; he might
take the woman he loved to their wide
doors, and give her to their charge.
He might; but Nora loathed the.
austere life of the community. She was
made for tenderness, for little household
offices. In the swiftness of a lightning
lash he saw her sitting by an evening
ire, the lamplisht on her pretty unshorn,
uncovered hair, her attitude that of a
woman. who needs only to look up to
catch a gentle glance from Mother Anna
Was it not his own face she seemed to
seek! The whole world appeared to.
fade out. The sun was quite gone down
now, and it was very still. And lien
suddenly a clear sound swung through
the hollow twilight.
Centre House raised its gray old walls
just to the southwark, its tiny window
lights as black as if eternal night held
sway within. On its square beifry the
iron bell careened slowly, giving out the
evening hour.
The man in the corn field held his
soul fast in his teeth. The woman study
ing his face read the significance of its
strained lines, of the drops of sweat on
its temples; and her W face, on which
a certain tranquility had shone, grew
something paler. She drew his hand
from her head and kissed the palm.
"Iknow, dear" she breathed; "you
would give it all up for me, wouldn't
you-that life you love2" She went on
gently, ''If 1 would let you"
She paused, listening. Wa thas a
sound of footsteps crushing through the
stubble2 She turned in time to catch
the staggering advance of a mans fig
ure, its throat bound in q scarlet hand
kerchief, its dark face gaping with sur
prise.
"Hello! s tibet you7' accosted Mr..
Hutton's voice. "And this-why, blame
'f'tain't Bro Boone Hinsenl Heb! hehl
Amt this a little out of your line, Bro
Boone, attacking to the gyrls, hunh2
Bein's I'm going your way, Nory, I'll see
you home. Say, Bro Boone, heard the
news, hev you2 Me and Nory's got it
fixed up. 1 saw parson to-day. Come
on, SIS"
He winked at her cheerfully, but Nora
away.
"Not with you," she said-''not with
JOu. aud GlCu Sir EudiC d 1lJblS E6o-
ture toward the Shaker village. 81 am
going there"
Mr.. Hutton's face expressed blank in
credulity. "Going WHARF Over to
Shakertown? What fora"
"To live" said the girl.
"To live?" exclaimed her su,tor, in
the sinuous accents of amazement. "You
got your right mind, hez she, Bro
The Shakers amt takin' in any
new members NJ more. You'd better
come home with me. You 'ain't got
right mind, I keep tellin' you.
Come on" He laid hold of her arm,
and then rather suddenly he loosed his
grasp, for Brother Boone Hinson set him
with a forcefuI hand.
"The Shakers will take her in" said
Brother Boone, composedly, "'and take
care of her for me till I can make a home
or her In the world. "-Harper's Weetly.