The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1893-01-06
IFD BY FATE.

The train from Dundas stopped in
the midst of the open country while o
gentleman with o small gripsaclS
alighted.
Go directly across the field over the
hill yonder and you will strike the Dun.
das highway" said the conductor, has
tily, in reply to the gentleman's inquiry.
The gentleman addressed stood for
awhile watching the receding train, and
then set out as directed. He reached o
narrow, dusty road and turned west
ward, casting his eyes over the country
as he walked.
No rain had fallen for weeks and the
dust lay in deep drifts along the high
way and the withered grass by the side
of the road had taken on pale. sickly
hue. From time to time an eddying
gust of wind carried clouds of pow
dered earth across the fields and into the
i, faces of the passers-by.
The same desolate region, only
grown worse with age" muttered the
stranger. ut was an insane impulse
that prompted me to leave my desk and
seek the Godforsaken country. must
have been led on by fate"
With manifest discomfort written up
on his grave features he pursued his
nominations. Finally he halted and
hesitated whether he had not better re-
trace his steps and signal the next train
to Dundas.
For some time he stood evidently ab-
sorbed in bitter recollections. There
is the old tree from which Uncle Zeke
tore many o switch to beat me, " he NUT
tered, "and it has grown large and
thrifty. There is the old house where I
spent an unhappy childhood. The
fields where 1 drove the oxen still lie
waiting for the plough, aud wonder
the old tyrant. have returned to the
home of my boyhood, yet feel no senti-
ments but those of bitterness. Uncle
Zeke must be either dead or broken
with age by this time, but owe him
nothing The scars wear on my
shoulders make me almost hate him even
now. Yeti have come here"
He sat down by the roadside and
pressed his head between his hands and
mused. And as lie mused there rose
before him one kind face, the only
face that ever inspired his boy
ish mind with reverence. It was the
face of young girl, Uncle Zeke's
bound girl Millie. 1t was she who used
to caress his smarting wounds and pro-
cure healing ointments, and now as he
sat, the face of this poor girl, moro
friendless in her youth than himself,
seemed to smile upon him as of yore.
Her voice resounded again in his ears
chiding him for his bitter resentment
and urging him to forgive his uncle's
harshness.
After he became prosperous man in
great city he sometimes wished that
he might learn of her whereabouts.
and. if necessary, render pecuniary as
sistance, but the letters which he wrote
and stamped were almost on second
thought torn up and the project post
poned indefinitely.
So the years ran by and he forgot
his good intentions altogether, but this
hot summers day, against his inclina-
tions, with feelings of revulsion at his
surroundings, he sits and gazes across
the fields which many years before his
weary feet had trodden.
Even the thought that Millie might
still reside in the old farm house did
not lead him to rise and hurry for
ward. On the other hand, he was
about to turn back towards the rail-
road when the sudden shrek of loco
motive and flying train more than
half mile distant told him that his de-
lay had decided otherwise. Again he
muttered: 81 must have been led by
fate"
He rose and pursued his way until he
came in front of an old, dingy farm
house which stood back little distance
from the road. The dwelling and the
outhouses in the rear looked bare and
forsaken. He pushed open the rickety
gate and followed the wagon track to
the side entrance of the house.
As he was about to knock upon the
door he caught the loud, complaining
voice of an old man. There was no
mistaking those hoarse, rasping tones.
Then Uncle Zeke is still alive, thought
the stranger, as he dropped his sus-
pended knuckles against the warped
panels of the door and waited for an
answer. But no answer came. Again
he knocked, but there was no response.
well, Uncle Zeke, I guess you have
not grown sociable with age" muttered
the gentleman, as with look of deter
mination on his face, he dealt the door
o vigorous blow.
This time savage voice growled:
|" Come in!' and he pushed open the
door. In the middle of the room sat
the bent form of an old man about
as decrepit and broken in appearance
as the incidentals of his environments.
The old man raised his head. from
which the hair hung in white snarls
over his ears, and darted fierce look
from q pair of bloodshot eyes upon his
visitor
Uncle Zeke, guess you have for
gotten me, sail the stranger.
The old man tottered to his feet, II
am no uncle of yours, you puppy
Who are you q
The gentleman flushed angrily. Il
am sorry to confess the relationship, I
am sure, said he, "but my name is
Adolph Griffis.
The old mans eyes blazed more
frightfully than ever and he shook from
head to foot. 80 ye ran away because
! whaled ye when We deserved it, did
We? Right in the busy season, too, and
a lot of hay got spoiled. Oh, ye scoun-
drel I've not forgotten ye, and if We
1vara 0n1v undar mo a0'in I'd whala va