Burlington weekly free press. [volume] (Burlington, Vt.) 1866-1928, 1893-09-14

is no need to dwell upon that, and,
moreover, it doesn't concern the drift of
what am telling you.
Nor need say much about the farm
and personal estate which had come to
me by my uncle's will. found that
the latter came to some eighty thou
sand dollars, chiefly invested in North
ern Pacific and other stock, and
the former a large tract of prairie
land, with house, farm buildings
and every appointment of a first class
property. There was a new railway
creeping up, which would double its
value in a few years time, and it was
for me TO say, after had seen the place.
whether | should let it or wait or sell it
right out. wrote the lawyer, saying
that for the present would take it i'll
hand Till the corn was safely harvested.
So one thing leads on to another, and
we prepare our own destiny without
knowing it. But had looked at things
in practical way and according to my
lights, and the notary commended me,
and Doris sent letter along saving,
Eyes, Jack. but don't tarry the thrash
ing TOO, WHICH was Ollly SNcculcdlI-
like.
The weeks passed on, and | found
plenty to occupy and interest me, as was
natural. | let Boss Wilson keep much
of his authority-he had been in charge
of the farm since the death, and his To-
uuacious company was not disagrecable
after | had learned to know him. One
day in the town near by happened upon
a Worcester man-one Henshaw-and
his clannish good feeling made the place
still less lonely. Then every week Doris
wrote down her little heart for me to
read it, and | sent her an account of
mine; and all the while the same sun
warmed us and the same moon set us
thinking one of the other when the day
was over and our souls skipped out for a
game at dreams. She was there, and
was here, and soon there would be no
there and here, bat only one place and
we in it.
Thinking to this tune | jumped into
the saddle one August morning and rode
to the pustoffice for the usual weekly
letter. always rode over, because the
postbov who passed us on his way to the
next settlement waited for the second
mail at noon. | met Mr.. Henshaw at
| the door Of the office, with two letters
and a newspaper i'll his hand.
"Moruin, Mr.. Sedley," said he; 'lot o
letters this mail. Let me hold the cob
] till you come out"
That was the beginning of it-there
was no letter. | rejoined Henshaw and
walked down with him to his store
heavy with disappointment.
Like to see the paper" said he as
was leaving after ordering some supplies
of his man. "'Tain't often l get one
but my brothers hayricks "a bin blazin
an he's sent the account of it, Art new
! hay, too, an ony part insured. Amt il
PITY
| said it was, and looked moodily
through the columns for news that
| might interest me. | only learned that
/ there had been Il regatta at Evesham
and that our old doctor at Ranston haC
sold his practice 10 DR.. RObson-tha
was all. But as | rode home ! KEEP
muttering that doctors name, wonder
ing where had heard it before, till sud
denly IL came TO me, bringing q lOG o
something else with it,
Why had Doris never mentioned hin
beyond the postscript in her first lette
weeks ago? | had clean forgotten sh
had cousin stephen, so little did hee,
him. but he was still at Ranston, still
perhaps an inmate of her home. Why
Here l dropped the reins and drew
out her last letter to steady me. | rea,
it through, and the dear words brough
Kindness back, and kissed her name "a
the end, saying some one was fool.
But the doubt had found entrance ant
grew, as cancers do, without our know
ing it, for the days Went on, and no let
ter came, no sign, till grew half vii,
at the cruelty Of it. | wrote, reproachin,
her, and another week went and an
other. AT last the letter came. The post
boy handed it TO me as | stood at tn
gate-I dare say he wondered why wa
always there-and ripped it open, Will
my heart pumped fit to break itself
Then the paper dropped from my hands
and | held on to the gate with singing
in my ears and sudden weakness il
seeing which darkened the sun and al
beneath it.