Democratic Northwest. [volume] (Napoleon, Ohio) 1869-1894, 1893-10-12
UP TRELUGGAE HILL.

tuo hAAti HobhCto buo Aoiuc bkudy III
his hands, clicks with his tongue at
the roof of his mouth, and the heavy
red and yellow wagon rumbles out Of
the millyard, away from the sight of
the mill windows, out Of the sound of
the mill wheels, down TresIawn hill
toward the town.
The youth at the mill has q round
sunburned face, capped by unmanage-
able and ruddy curls and besprinkled
by uncountable and tawny freckels,
but the oppenness of his smile engulfs
the freckles, and the dust of his trade
dims the curls.
Down the hill the wagon jolts be-
tween the thick and dusty hedges,
where the last sprays of honeysuckle
smell honey sweet through the grit,
and the spikes Of goldenrod and the
stray straws hanging on the brambles
tell that SIMMER is dead and harvest
has passed by that way. The notes of
lugubrious "Methody" hymn, cheer
fully whistled by the youth, are jerke1
out of him as the wagon rumbles on.
Down the hill it goes, then over the
bridge at the foot where the town
children wander out to throw stones
and fish with beau sticks and unwit-
tingle lave off their CRIME. And then
the glossy brutes slacken pace, and
setting their shoulders to the work
before them proceed to curve their
way up the mile of Treluggsn hill to
the town.
just ahead of the wagon tolls
small figure in black gown and
broad straw hat, her gait balanced as
she goes by big blue bundle on the
left arm and blg green umbrella
in the right hand.
The youth from the mill, finding his
cheerful notes no longer Jerked from
him, misses the assistance and ceases
his tune. Then, being familiar with
she nature of Treluggan hill and
human youth to boot, he resigns him
self to the wagon rail and the newt
able and let his eyes rest absently on
the only figure in sight-the figure of
the girl toiling up the hill before HIM,
After a few moments another idea
seemed to creep into his brain.
Hi! little maid he calls, would
ZEE Ikea lift up the hill?"
The figure turns, and the youth
from the mill sees that she is not quite
the child he guessed her to be, In spite
of her short gown. But he also sees
that she is hot and dusty ami not at
all dlscomposed by the familiarity of
his address, and he repeats in more
deferential manner and without the
'little msid:'
Nv ould ZEE like lift up the hill2'
'You'm very good, replies the girl
wearily, coming toward him and
holding up her bundle. 'Wlll ZEE hold
this while get up?
The youth takes the bundle, and
setting it down In the wagon holds
out his hand to help her. But she
does not see it and scrambles up un.
aided and stands beside him, leaning
against the rail. Then he sees that
her skin is very fair, all pink and
white as apple blossom; that her hair
is black and curly, and that her fea-
lures are we'll savored. But he also
sees that her gray eyes are surround
ed by Redeemed lids, and he guesses
that she has been crying.
You'd best get over the rail- he
says, when he has noted her appear
ance. E'Tis steadier footin, and YOU
can sit on that there sack if you like.
'I'll stand, thank you, she returns
as she obeys the first part of his re-
marks and chambers over. Il mus'n
-four my frock.'
There's my coat in the corner.
You can put that over the sack.
Tisn't foury on the inside"
She takes his advice in silence, and
spreading his coat seats herself, and
for some moments the silence is only
broken by the slow runbling of the
wheels and the thuddlng hoofs of
Lion and Pleasant.
At last the youth breaks it with q
click of his tongue, and then his own
sound seems to embolden him.
sYou'm goin to Penslyder market.
| spose?' he ventures.
Pm goin to Penslyder, but I amt
goin to market, / suppose ! shan't
never go into market no more. I'm
on my way to service.
Service he exclaims cheerfully,
looking at her furtively the while.
IAN make no doubt you'm pleased |
at the thought of livin in town?'
NO, she answers YEARLY, 4 never
wanted to see town more'n on mar
ket days. I was always for home.
Then why do ZEE go? You'm young
to be in town service yet.
I'm near H. she replies, and then |
he sees that tears are in her eyes, and |
she is fumbling at the pocket of her
goun In search Of her handkerchief.
I'm afraid you'm in trouble, he
says gently, all the cheerfulness fad.
ing out Of his face in genuine regret,
but as he says it all her lassitude
seems struck away from her.
TROUBLED! she cries, clinging her
small, toll worn hands, ''tis all trouble, |
never nothin but trouble, ever since |
was old enough to know what it was,
there its bin hangin over us, an now
fathers dead--an / don't care who
knows that VEIN miserable an beg
gars, an nothin else.