The Meeker herald. [volume] (Meeker, Colo.) 1885-current, 1893-03-11
IN THE HOP-FIELDS.


over the hills like quivering veil
the bland air was full of the soft,
subtle fragrance of wild grapes ripen-
ing in the woods; and wherever dead
tree. or rude stone wall afforded it q
vantage ground, the silvery tangles
OF clematis wove u lovely garland,
and tall masses of golden-rod and
purple -fringed asters held up their
clusters of dazzling bloom. And in
the hop-tields merry voices echoed
from morning until night.
viii PendeXter, walking up and
down the aisles of silver-green leaf
| age, with his hands behind his back,
| might have reminded one of Boaz in
Boaz standing in his harvest fields
! and giving kind glance and pleasant
word to everyone.
isn't he handsomeP said little
Fannie Dix to Miss Morgan, the rec
tors daughter. Fannie was Il pale
! little dressmaker, with an incipient
cough, who had been recommended
by her doctor to spend a fortnight
in the hop fields; and Miss Morgan
whose mother had died with con-
sumption, picked hops every year on
principle, just as Judge Marley's
daughters visited Long Branch:
"And all the handsomer since he has
turned gray. do wonder why he
! never marriedm
Don't you lfnow?n said Miss Nor
gan sagely.
| NO
II can tell you, then said the
rector's daughter, who dearly loved
morsel of genuine romance. "Re-
cause his first love Tilted him" y
las if anyone would jilt viii PEN
dexter" said incredulous Fanny.
| "Oh. but he wasn't Squire Pendex-
ter thcn-all this happened twenty
years ago averrcd Miss Morgan, her
, flying fingers never leaving OIL among
. the clusters of pale-green hops.
That was before he inherited PEN
dexter farm. He was only poor
/ young farmer then, with his own liv-
, ing to make and this was Il beautiful
| girl who was spending the summer
here. And they were engaged and all
and the very night before the we'd
ding she ran away with an Italian,
one Count Caprivi, who was singing
on the New York stage"
Fanny drew II long breath.
And what became OF them?n said
she.
"Oh, they went TO Italy, where the
7 count expected to succeed to large cs-
tates, and suppose they are there
now"
! Fanny looked with secret awe at
I the rudy face and magnificent height
of win Pendexter as he sauntercd
down the green aisles of waving ten
drills and tremulous leaves, and almost
wondered to hear him ask Mahala
Bentley about her baby in the OF
hand ordinary language of everyday
( life, and give lame Billy Bartlett
| "good-day." just as if there had been
/ no Countess Caprivi in the world.
! But Fannie Dix was but girl yet;
she did not know how twenty years
will bridge over the darkest gulf in n
human life. There is no scar that
will not heal in twenty years-there
is not grave on which grass will
not grow-aye, and daisies bloom, in
/ twenty years.
| IL don't know that we can take an
( other hand, Simpson, said Squire
Pendexter, meditatively. The field
is crowded already"
What / thought. exactly, sir. "
said the overseer, respectfully. "But
this ere is pretty young slip of n
! girl, with a feeble mother dragging
along on her arm. And II man
does't like to say mo- to such! So !
thought I'd just speak to you be-
| fore"
Where are theyP" said the squire,
rubbing the gold knob of his walking
cane against his nose; and Simpson
, knew that the case OF the forlorn
strangers was safe enough.
Mother, don't fret; here comes
! the gentleman now" said clear,
soft-toned voice, and Squire Pendex-
ter found himself looking into pair
| of wistful, deep blue orbs-orbs that
belonged to slight, beautiful girl,
dressed in a faded fabric and worn
| shoes, who was leaning against the
well-curb For while Simpson had
gone on his errand OF inquiry, she
had drawn bucket of clear, cold
water out of the sparkling depths of
the well and given her mother n
drinl, out of the silver-boupd gourd
which always hung there.
Sir" without moments hest
tation, might l have job of work
in your hop fields? We have come
from the city-mother and there's
no living to be picked up there, and
my mother is ailing, and we thought
the smell of the hops might do her
good Please, sir, we'd work cheap,
II only we might sleep in the barn
and have bit of something to eat be-
tween whiles!''
81 don't want you to work cheap"
said the squire, assuming an aspect
| of unwontcd grufrness to cover the
sympathetic thrill of his voice. 81
never grudged moneys worth for
good, honest work. As for the barn,
my housekeeper can put you in one
of the vacant back chambers over the
kitchen, and there's always enough to
eat at Pendexter farm"
"Pendexter farm
The woman who had been sitting
on the messy cattle trough slowly
lifted her head here and pushed back
| her worn sunbonnet.
"Whore are we, 1sorap Whittier
have VIC come? l knew man named
papdavtor once who