The Forest Republican. [volume] (Tionesta, Pa.) 1869-1952, 1893-04-26

Mrs. Sedgick stood in the doorway,
with fat, old-fashioned tumbler and a
glass.towel in her hand.'
Ellen, the dhu Ihter, paused in the act
of tying up an obstreperous young honey
suckle shoot; and old Grandsir Sedgick,
leaning on his staff, with his gray hairs
blowing in the fresh spring wind, look-
ing not unlike one Of the ancient Druids.
"Why, father, we didn't know you'd
care" said the squire. "It's rickety
old thing, anyhow"
"Well, so'm rickety old thingl"
quavered the octogenariau. "But you
wouldn't go at me with an axe aud a
mallet, would you2 / used to draw water
with that well sweep afore l stood as
high as the curb"
''Well, well," soothingly uttered the
squire, "if you've any feein' about it, it
shan't be touched! Only, sence the pipes
have been laid from the spring up on
Savin Hill, Eunice, she thought ="
al don't keer what Eunice thinks ~
said Grandsir Sedgick. "The pipes from
Savin Spring amt nothin' to me. I'd
ruther hev glass O. clear water from the
old well than ali the springs in crea-
tionl"
80 you shall, father---so you shall I"
said Mrs. Scdgick, picking up the
knotted cane which the old man had
dropped, and tenderly guiding his foot
steps back to the cushioned chair on the
porch, which he had just left.
But Ellen tossed her much be-crimped
head.
ats the only well sweep left in Ken
dal, "muttered she. ''Horrid old fashioned
thingl Everybody calls our home 'the
place with the we'll sweep IT'S too
badr"
"Hush, dearl" said Mrs. Sedgick.
"Grandsir's very old man, and he's
never got over the shock of Dora's run
ming away"
Deaf though he was, the old man s
ear caught a word here and there, when
it was least expected that he would. lie
looked quickly around.
"Dora," he repeated-"little Dora
My son Adams daughter, with the black
eyes and the real Sedgick featuresl
There amt but few things that care
for left in this world, and Dora was one
of 'em. What have you done with
Adams orphen gal-eh, Eunice2 The
gal that hadn't no one but me to look
after her2'
A distressed look crept over Mrs.
Sedgick's kindly face. She hesitated
visibly.
at wasn't our fault, father, )" said she.
"Dora was always restless child, and
she somehow couldn't seem to be con.
tented in this quiet place"
The old man shook his leonine white
head.
al dunno nothin' about that" said
he. Gan know is l miss little Dora,
aud | want her. Jotham," turning alb
ruptly to his stalwart son, "where's
Dora2"
al don't know any more than you do,
father" said the squire, leaning up
against the porch pillar, and saying to
wife in lower tone;
"What has set him off thinkin' of
Dora Just now2"
"Thinkin'l Amt 1 always thinkin'
of herl" piped up the old man. "Adam's
gal, that was left to us to take care OF;
and Adam was always the best of the
family You nagged her, and you wor-
rited of her, and she was too high
sperited to stand it, and now she's gone,
an you say you don't know nothin'
about it. Eh"-and his voice grew
thrller-''that was what Cain said, mind
you, when the Lord asked him where
his brother was That's why set here
on the porch, where can see half mile
down the road, TO get sight of Adams
gal, Dora, comm back where she be-
longsl"
The three lockers. glanced un-
easily at each other.
Martin Sedgick, the son, flung his axe
emphatically on the ground.
"Grandsir speaks the truth, " said he.
"The house amt itself since Dora went
away"
And he stalked gloomily down the
hill, to where his handsome four year
old colt was tied to the fence rail, await
ing its daily exercise around the square.
''Euniee, said Squire Sedgick to his
wife that afternoon, "Martin is getting
restless again. He wants to go West.
Mrs. sedgick elasped her hands nerv-
ously.
"Martin-our only sonl" she cried.
"He was just beginning to be recon
ciled to life on he farm, whna Dora