Freeland tribune. (Freeland, Pa.) 1888-1921, 1893-04-24


axe.
Mrs. Sedeick stood in the doorway
with fat, old-fashioned tunbler and a
glass towel in her hand.
Ellen, the dnu .hter, paused in the ac
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
clre," said the squire. "It's a rickety
old thing, anyhow"
"Well, som l rickety old thingr'
quavered the octogenariau. "But you
wouldn't 60 at me with an axe and a
mallet, would you2 used to draw water
with that we'll 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, Eun'ce, she thought -
81 don't keer what Eunice thinksr -
said Grandsir Sedgick. "The pipes from
Savin Spring amt nothin' to me. I'd
ruther hev a glass O. clear water from the
old well than all the springs in crea-
tionl"
80 you shall, father--so you shalll'
said Mrs. Sedgck, 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.
"lt's the only well sweep left in Ken
dal, "muttercd she. "Horrid old fashioned
thing! Everybody calls our home the
place with the well sweep It's too
badl"
"Hush, dear" said Mrs. Sedgick.
"Grandsir's a very old man, aud he's
never got over the shock of Dora's run.
ming away"
Deaf though he was, the old man $
car caught word here and there, when
1t was least expected that he would. He
looked quickly around.
"Dora," he repeated "!ittle Dora |!
My son Adams daughter, with the black
eyes and the real Sedgick featuresl
There amt but few things that | care
Tor left in this world, and Dora was one
of 'em. What have you done with
Adams orphen gal-eh, Eunce2 The
gal that hadn't no one but me to look
after her?'
A distressed look crcpt over Mrs.
Sedgick's kindly face. She hesitated
visiby.
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.
az dunno nothin' about that" said
he. 'All know is | miss little Dora,
and | want her. Jotham," turning alb
ruptly to his stalwart son, "whcre's
Dcra2"
al don't know any more than you do,
father said the squire, leaning up
against the porch pillar, and saying to
wife in a lover tone:
"What has set him of thinkin' of
Dora Just noYl'n,
"Thihkin'! Amt I always thinkin'
OF heri" 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 nagsed her, and you wor-
rlted of her, and she was too high
sperited to stand it, and now she's zone,
an you say you don't know nothin'
about it. Eh"-and his voice grew
thrlller-''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-
longs
The three lockers. on glanced un-
easily at each other.
Martin sedgick, the son, flung his axe
smphatically 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-y year
old colt was tied to the fence rail, await
ing its daily exercise around the square.
"Eunice," said Squire Sedgick to his
wife that afternoon, martin IS getting
restless again. He wants to 90 West.'
Mrs. sedgick clasped her handc nerv-
ously.
Martin our only s0nl" she cried.
"IIe was just beginning to be recon
rile4 TO life on the farm, when Dora