The World. [volume] (Martinsburg, W. Va.) 1891-1896, 1893-04-12

even owned - himself that she was n
nice little thing and be had been
fool IN regard 10 tho0 fence; but 4
wouldn't 40 70 give up Il was an
noyina. though, 70 be obliged 70 90 ou
Of ono door and IN At another "a com
munlcato with her; 20. one night aftci
she had gonc homo. he cut aquar,
hole In tho fence From his table
through this opening no could cntci
frequent glimpscs Of her brown hoal
"a she bent over the telegraph lnstrn
mont; but this does not necessnril,
point 20 any scheming propensity on
his part Frequently no caught him
self staring at her steadily; sometime,
she caught him. too. and then they
would both lnuuh--he, rather confused
", she, merrily.
Gradually she frightened up her hal
and even carpeted Iii therc were flow
crs In the window, and new-mudf
friends frequently dropped Ia. She
seemed n capital entertainer, and sam
uel futile watched proceedings with
quiet and enyious eye. His half looked
checrless, and he felt out IN the cold
She was as pleasant as ever, but per.
sisted In treating him a. a business
acquaintance; she nevcr laughed and
iolxed with him thc why she did with
other Callers lie began 10 feel az.
grieved. and his eyebrows were often
drawn down into d straight line, much
to her secret enjoyment
In reckless moment he cut gate
IN the hateful barricndes aftnr doing II,
he felt rather nervous az to how ahc
would take Il When she came In she
stopped short for a momcnt, md then
said: allow nicali
Mr. futile could have blessed her,
Tho gate stood open tho greater part
Of tho time, and he had full view Of
her; they even conyerscd at odd
moments. and no began 10 feel con.
tented with life, and whistlcd agnin.
She had no headaches, and surprised
him BY singing to herself now and
then In short. Samuel Tnttlc was be
coming more and more cntanglcd by
this careless, happy little woman, and
he did not even try 70 extricate him
self.
But the fcncei That monument Of .
gronned when It's staring yellow face
met him, and he WINS daily over
whelmcd with contrition when Lanrn
Wolcott's bright face greeted him.
Something Ind come over her Of late;
she did not avoid him, but she was
qnieter; she did not look at him so
brnvcly rs ut first
Samuel futile was worried about 1t,
for he could not understand; and d
dozen times day he wanted to cross
through tho gate and end It all by tell.
ing her his feelings: but he was afraid
shc would simply look d. tic fence and
smile. lie knew he could never endure
IL II she should.
One dry d message came FOR tho
operator herself. and with d little cry
she rose.
u must 60 home" she said. as he
came 10 her. My mother Is dying"
lie did not think of anything to say,
and silently helped her on with her
things
THANK you,n she said. as she
stepped out of tho door, her eyes full
Of tears.
1t wns very lonely for Mr.. Tuttle the
week she was away. The Office
seemed dingier than ever He sat one
day looking through the gate, out OF
sheer force Of habit, when an idea
came to him 50 suddenly that II took
his breath away. He laid down his PEN
ell and went outside; presently he came
back with an ak. There were blows
and crashes. till, finally, Samuel Tuttle,
red and pcrspiring, stood triumphant
amidst the ruins Of the long-hatcd
fence. His spirits rose wonderfully
after that and he could breathe easier;
he was wildly anxious for Monday
morning and Miss Wolcotts return.
He saw her coming down the street,
and rose to meet her. with great
wave of tenderness sprging over him
as she stepped In the door, a black
robcd little figure. She hesitated in
bewilderment rs she looked across the
cleared room To where Samuel futile
stood with a beseeching look In his
eyes. She had not known before how
the fence had wounded her feelings,
and she was suddenly overcome.
"LauraT' he cried. 30 Laurnlr as he
quickly crossed over 10 the chair into
which she had dropped.
She did not repulsc him, and sobbcd
ont her pent-up feelings on his shout
der.
Il was afraid you could never for
give my--the fence, he faltered.
She began to laugh through her
tears.
+
hateful Of you. Samuel. but forgive
you now. Cotton Woodruff. In Dem
orcst's Magazine. I'm