The Wichita daily eagle. [volume] (Wichita, Kan.) 1890-1906, 1893-06-20
FARMER TIPTON'S NIECE.
Her Unexpected Visit Brought
About Two Happy Marriages.

81 don't like girls!" said Farmer Tip
ton.
His housekeeper made no answer.
in fact" added Mr.. Upton, II hate
'em.''
Still Mrs. Martin did not reply.
But what can do about it?'' he re-
sumed. IF I'd had twenty-four hours
notice, I would have gone over to
Cherry mountain or across to Durham
fair" growied Mr.. Upton: ''but here
comes this letter like a stroke of light
ming, to tell me the girl will be here to-
night!'
Mrs. Martin smiled little and went
on with her work, the picking over of
black beans to make soup; for Farmer
Upton was particular in his eating,
and although Hester, the maid-of- all
work, was skillful in the use of pots
and pans, he never could relish any,
thing which was not of Mrs. Martins
cooking.
II suppose you'll have to get a room
ready for her" said Mr.. Upton. She'll
have to say all night in any event But
l shall send her back again tomorrow
morning. 1 don't want niece to live
with us. If had wanted anything Of
the sort, I could have asked for it,
suppose"
Mr.. Upton lived in pretty old farm
house, steep-roofed and Swallowed by
monster button-ball boughs-a house
where Tiptons innumerable had been
born and died, where every stone wall
had its associations and the very apple
trees and gooseberry bushes were de-
Ginning into an honorahl old age, with
lichen-covered stems and crispy, dead
boughs breaking away with every wind.
1t is, perhaps, unnecessary to add that
he was an old bachelor as full of whims
and caprices as ever old bachelor was
Nobody, said the neighbors, could get
along with him but Stella Martin; and
she couldn't if it had not been that she
and Thomas Upton had been boy and
girl together, and, somehow, were used
to each other, in the days before Stella
married that wild, reckless young Mar
tin, who spent her money and broke
her heart in such short order, and then
shot himself in gambling saloon.
Such a merry, laughing gypsy as she
used to be. and now
Why" cried the neighbors. "she
don't speak to nobody"
1t was lovely old place. Hollyhocks
clustered in the garden, tangles of vel
vet red sweet-williams bordered the
path and bushes of dark southernwood
hung over the door steps. To Mr.. Tip
ton it was the dearest spot in the world
Mrs. Martin used to bring the family
out into the porch, sometimes,
ly at the red sunset shining through the
TRUNKS Of tthe cedar trees. But what
ever her impressions might have been,
she kept them to herself.
If Mr.. Upton did not like the idea of
a young girl visitor beneath the ancient
roof of Upton Hall, Phebe Cresshill
liked it still less.
''You can send me out into the wilder
nesses as much as you like said
Phebe, crying whole river Ganges of
tears into her trunk, as she threw slip
oers, collars, cologne bottles and work
an homogeneous mass, into its
depths; ''but l never, never shall leave
off caring for Harry! Not if you were
10 send me to Alaska!"
Child" said Mrs. Cresshill, sharply.
don't be goose! The engagement is
% be broken off, and there is an end of |
he whole thing!'
Through her tears Phebe could not |
out smile to herself. 1t was all very |
we'll for mamma to talk, but mamma |
lid not know that the bakers boy had
'arried at the bottom of the basket of |
oils note to Harry Ravens, and that |
larry knew, as well as she did herself. |
hat she was going to Grabbed old |
lncle down in New Hampshire, and |
hat she should always, always love |
him, no matter what they said to her
" whittier they sent her.
And so, in the peaceful purple after
low of the June evening, Phebe Cress-
ill and Mr.. Upton eyed each other
With mutual disfavor.
How do You do, uncle?" said Phebe,
With a stiff little courtesy.
OH said Mr.. Upton. This is the
-irl, is it? Yes. How do you do? Mrs.
Iartin, here, will give you some sup
,er''
And he went off to make sure that
he barn doors were properly locked
nd the hen house secured, for there
vas a rulnor of burglars in Quiet Val
ey, and Mr.. Upton had the finest AL
erney cows and the choicest breed of
;rahma fowls in the neighborhood.
sit stands to reason" said he. that
hey'n come first to me. And 1 don't
lean to be taken unawareS."
Mrs. Martin poured the fragrant tea
nd served the hot, buttered biscuit and
oney in the comb. Phebe choked back
be tears that would come and tried to
at something.
''Will you go to your room now?" said
Irs. Martin.
Yes, please falteredePhebe.
1t was a spacious, low-ceiled room,
al of the sweet scent of dried laven-
er, and furnished with shining cherry
'ood presses and high-backed chairs.
Il hope you will rest WELL" said Mrs.
Iartin.
Thank you." said Phebc.
Mr., Upton was hanging up his Ian
ern in the back kitchen, when Mrs
Iartin came downstairs.
Well" said he. did you tell her she
lust go home tomorrow"
NO did not"
''Humph," said Mr.. Upton. you
light as we'll
As Mr.. Upton lay asleep that night
e dreamed that he was boy again at
4 old-fashioned husking- bee: that the
>rn was all huslled aud the barn floor
cared off. and that he and Stella-not /
ale, silent Mrs. Martin. but the gold |