Savannah courier. (Savannah, Tenn.) 1885-1979, 1893-06-29
FARMER TIPTON'S NIECE.
der Unexpected Visit Prought
About Two Happy Marriages.
VI don't like girls!" said Farmer Tip

Ills houselSeepcr made no answer.
In fact added Mr.. Upton, 81 hate
'em!n
Still Mrs. Martin did not reply.
but what can do about it?" he re-
sumed. IF I'd had twenty-four hours
notice, | would have gone over to
Cherry mountain or ncross to Dunham
fair" growled Mr. Upton; "but here
comes this letter like II stroke of light
ming, to tell me the girl will be here to-
nightl'
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.
u suppose you'll have to get room
ready for her" said Mr.. Upton. "She'll
have to say all night in any event But
] shall send her back again tomorrow
morning. / don't want niece to live
with us. If had wanted anything o.
the sort, could have usked for it,
supposc."
Mr.. Upton lived in pretty old farm
house, steep-roofcd and shadowed 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 gooscbcrry bushes were de-
clining into an honorable old age, with
lichen-cpvercd stems and crispy, dead
boughs brcalsing nway withcvcry wind.
1t is, perhaps, unnecessary to add that
he was an6d. bachelor, rs full of whims
and capriccs as ever old bachelor was.
Nobody, said the neighbors, could get
nlong with him but Stella Martin; and
shescouldn't II it had not been that She
and Thomas Upton had been boy and
girftogethcr, 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 a gambling saloon.
Such q 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 swcet-williams bordered the
path and bushes of dark southernwood
hung over the door steps. To Mr. Tip
ton 1t was the dearest spot in the world.
Mrs Martin used to bring the family
mending out into the porch, sometimes,
of a summer evening, and look w.stful-
ly at the red sunset shining through the
trunks of the cedas trees. But what
ever her impressions might have been,
he'kcpt them to herself.
If Mr.. Upton did not like the idea OF
n young girl visitor beneath the ancient
roof Of Upton Hail. Phebc Crcsshill
liked it still less.
''You can send me out into the wilder.
nesses as much as you like" said
Phebe, crying q whole river Ganges OF
tears into her trunk, as she threw slip
.pers, collars, cologne bottles and work
baskets, an incongruous mass, into its
depths; "but J never, never shall leave
off caring for Harry! Not if you were
to send me to Alaska"
''Child," said Mrs. Crcsshill, sharply,
"don't be q goosel The engagement is
TO be broken off, and there is an end OF
the whole thingl"
Through her tears Phcbe could not
but smile to herself. 1t was all very
well for mamma to talk, but ma ma
did not know that the bakers boy had
carried at the bottom of the basket OF
rolls a note to Harry Havans, and that
Harry knew, as well as she did herself,
that she was going to grabbed old
uncle down in New Hampshire, and
that she should always, always love
him, no matter what they said to her
or whittier they sent her.
And SO, in the peaceful purple after
glow of the June evening, Phebe Cress-
hill and Mr.. Upton eyed each other
with mutual disfavor.
'How do you do, unclc?" said Phebe,
with stiff little courtesy.
"Oh!" said Mr.. Upton. "This is the
girl, is it? Yes. How do you do? Mrs.
Martin, here, will give you some sup
per-" :,
And he went off to make sure that
the barn doors were properly locked
and the hen house secured, for there
was a rumor of burglars in Quiet Val
lev, and Mr.. Upton had the finest Al
derncy cows and the choicest breed OF
Brahma fowls in the neighborhood.
1T stands to reason" said he, that
they'll come first to me. And don't
mean to be taken unawares.
Mrs. Martin poured the fragrant tea
and served the hot, buttcred biscuit and
honey in the comb. Phebe choked back
the tears that would come and tried to
eat something. :,
"Will you go to your room now9" said
Mrs. Martin
"Yes, pleased" faltcred Phebe.
II was a spacious, low-ceiled room,
full of the sweet scent OF dried layen-
der. and furnished with shining cherry
wood presses and high-backed chairs.
II hope you will rest WELL" said Mrs.
Martin. s Ill
"Thank you, said Phebe.
Mr.. Upton was hanging up his Ian
tern in the back kitchen, when Airs
,..s ..,,,o downstairs.
"Well." said he, "did you tell her she
must go home tomorrow"
mo, did not"
"Humphm said Mr.. Upton. You
might as we'll" .
As Mr.. Upton lay asleep that night
he dreamed that he was boy again at
nm old-fashioned buskiug-bee; that the
corn was all huslsed and the barn floor
cleared off, and that he and Stella-not
male. silent Mrs. Martin, but the gold
haired, laughing Stella OF twenty years
ago--were gcing down the long links OF
tbe Virginia reel to the mad music OF
Rory O'More."
He sat up in bed and rubbed his eyes.
Was Il real music or dream? Or was