The record-union., 1893-07-29
" BROADACRES."
Written for the RECORD-UNIoN by Alice
RObertsOn.1


To the left, far as the eye can reach,
stretches the yellow grain fields thickly
scattered with their golden sheafs. Cooler,
moro refreshing the breeze becomes,
bearing away in its light, swift arms the
oppressive warmth of the sultry long day.
A snatch of song rings out high and clear.
Then laugh, pure and sweet.
The hour grows late. and soon the merry
reape RS are preparing to depart. Slowly
the sum IS sinking in glorious mass of
purple, crimson and gold as the owner of
Broadacres idly saunters down the long,
wide psoth to pause and rest, with folded
arms, upon the topmost railing of the
gate.
'By Jove," he exclaims, beneath his
breath, "'what picture"
With pleasure and genuine admiration
his Ian guid eyes are riveted upon tall
girl, some little distance from the others.
Standing straight and motionless like
nnely-lno odeled statue, the outline OF her
noble form showing plain, distinct against
the sldlping sky; the dingy cotton gown
cIings close around the strong, young
limbs drawing it's scant folds about the
hrm, tu II hips and round swelling bust.
One arm is raised, shading the sun rays
from n6r eyes, WHICH are III ul6UlLd-
ton upon the distant hills.
a sharp voice calls to her, and starting,
as from a dream, she stoops to pick her
wide briInmed hat from the ground at her
feet. Bru ShIng few stray straws from of
the crown, she places it upon her tum-
bled, CLOS sy head and wsarily follows her
companio as homeward, moving towards
the low, white gate which opens into the
gTass-grolxn road leading into the village,
and agaiIs which the master is still
leaning. All accept eagerly, proudly, the
friendly hand. Which he extends to each,
as they fibe slowly past him. All? No.
The tall girl notices not his outstretched
hand, but, with head held high and firm,
quick step, passes him by without
glance.
why, woot' ent accept thy masters
hand, ,wench2" said a cross, scOlding voice
behind her.
NV hose master? Not mine. work in
his fields from morn till night, and for
which | receive the few pence he deems
my labors worth; but" with swift, up
ward glance, ''he is not my master. l ac-
knowledge but one" And the beautiful
face is turned towards the star-dotted
heavens.
Thou art proud jade. Hark you, my
gell, your pride may have a fall some
day. Pride and dependence go i'll to-
gether." And, with this parting shot, the
speaker turns into her own door, whilst
the girl hurries onward, her head deh-
auuy erect and either cheek burning
with a oeep, scarlet spot.
At the poorest and smallest of the cab
ms she stops and enters, walking straight
towards the old woman seated in heavy,
rickety armchair, whose sunken, with
cred tace brightens at sight Of the new
conner. Hester bends tenderEy over the
bowed form, pressing a kiss upon her
brow and lips.
well. grannie, am back at last. How
have you passed the day, dear?" mean
while stroking the scant silver hair upon
the wrinkled forehead. The grandmOth
ers eyes I'LL with tears.
"Ah, dearie, that you, who, by right
and birth, should share in the vast estate
OF Broadacres, now have to toll Iva its
fields for your daily bread. Unjust and
cruel is fate to allow it.''
Hush, grannie, we must not complain.
L am young, strong, and have yod,"
pressing the gray head to her brea st.
Now am going to prepare our supperp
throwing oil her hat.
And soon the kettle is singing merriIy
upon the hearth, and great plate OF but
tered toast is standing invitingly upon
the clean, white table.
Hester draws the table close to where
the old woman sits, meanwhile smiling
and chatting gayly to hide her heavy
heart; not for worlds would she allow the
dear old grannie TO suspect the rebellion
which is raging in her breast
The master of Broadacres has re-
turned, l hear"
The girl mods silently.
Now, grannie, while we drink our tea
let us have nice little chat like two old
cronies. Waltz - running to the end
OF the room she brings a footstool which
she places carefully beneath the slippered
feet, and giving the pillow at the head a
couple OF pats To bring it into place, pours
the tea and moves her chair TO the inya-
Hd's side-"tell me the story of my moth
er. l have heard it once, but tonight
feel inclined to listen, from the Begin
ming, If 1t will not tire you," anxiously.
Grannie smiles sadly, stroking the
smooth, firm cheek tondly.
1t is not a long story, dearie," closing
her eyes and leaning back against the
cushion. Let me try to gather the
broken threads of the past and tie them
together. How old are you, dearie2"
Eighteen last month"
True. How time flies. 1t happened
nigh twenty years ago''-stirring her
tea SlowIy-"nlgh twenty years ago that
Anthony Erroldean engaged nv SON to
paint his daughters portrait. My SON
your father, dearie-had just completed
picture which set all London talking.
aud which made him famous in a day.
Offers came pouring in thick and fast.
and the first he accepted was from Broad
acres. All, me, remember the morning
he picked the envelope from among the
rest and holding it high above hiyhead.
laughed and said: Nanny, | select this
one, whatever 1t is | can't yet tell. but
am sure it is another order for portrait.
l will do my best upon it, and then,
presto, nanny he always called me
nammy-'we will go to Italy,
He tore open the envelope and
laughed, running his hand through his
crisp, light hair, habit he had when
well pleased. L was right. It is an offer
from Broadacres. Mr.. Erroldean wishes
me to paint his daughters portrait at nv
own terms. Jove, nanny, we Will
throw the others into the waste bask eft.
pil accept, and then for Italy, He
jumped from his seat-we were at break
fast-and, running around TO my chair,
placed his arms about my neck, hugglng
NE as he had ever done since Childhood
'Eh, will carry my nanny off away
from foggy, smoky old London lie
pressed his lips to mine. Bless his dear
heart, he never thought himself too old TO
kiss his mother.
Then strange foreboding came over
me--something,d don't know what warned
me TO caution my son against going to
BrOadacres. Among the heap of letters
were several with coronets. I pointed
towards them. Take one of those. dear.
The Erroldeaus are nothing but wealthy
farmers. Choose title' Nav. mother.
that is unlike you. The Erroldeans OF
Broadacres far surpass the titled, poverty
pinched aristocracy. They scorn such
empty honors; and their unstained lin
cage dates further back than many an
ancient peer can trace his own
II could not gainsay his argument, for,
indeed, had heard the same, so placed
no further obstacles in his Way
81