St. Landry democrat., 1893-05-13
MAGGIB'S WEDDING GIFT.
By AMELIA e. BARR,

| O2 AMELIA lie bAhhs
IA mans hat in his hand never die
him any harm, Stephen, and I wish
dear, you had been little more civil t.
Uncle Joseph"
''Nonsense, Maggie, darling. dom
like Joseph Hawick and his ways, and
am not going to pretend l do.''
'His ways are very good ways. Nc
one can say wrong of Uncle Joseph, Ste
| phen.''
"That is justit; they are too good.
rather think I am old enough to know
what I am doing, and what want. l
have good farm, l don't owe penny,
and never mean to ask favor except
of you. or of my own hands. If I palav-
cred over Joseph Hawick, he would be
the very first to say wanted the trife of
money he may have saved"
Maggie sighed, and then looked up
into Stephens handsome face and smiled.
Stephen, of course, was right; q man
with such eyes and such figure could
not, in loves sight, he wrong. He was
brave and confident, too, and had that
way Of assertion which only very cool
and sensible people can resist.
Uncle Joseph sighed, too, but it was a
different sigh from Maggie's. He loved
his niece with wise and tender affec-
ton, and she had not chosen the husband
that he would have chosen for her.
Stephen Gray was indeed "well to do, "
and had fair character, but the keen old
man saw radical defects in it.
"He listens to no one but himself, and
so he hears no advice but tlattercr's. "
said Joseph, "besides, Maggie, he is SO
proud, that I am feared he's bound to
have a tumble"
"But, uncle. he has big heart, and
he's good farmer, and even you can sec
inat he is the handsomest man in the
Dales.'
"That is all true, girl, but God does
not measure men by 'nches.''
However, in spite of all disafection,
Maggie Hawick's wedding with Stephen
Gray came off with great and widespread
hospitality. Joseph Haywick had been
for forty years the physician and friend
of all the Dale families, rich and poor.
and not one Of thea missed an invitation.
Ths x-ntry7 feasted in the oak-raftered
parlco, sand the shepherds and cotters
in the big barn. But all were merry and
full of good wishes for the pretty bride
and her handsome husband.
The number of the bridal presents
Maggie received testified to it. Ste
phen's sideboard ond buffet would be
bright with silver tokens, and his presses
full of snowy damask and fine-spun linen
and blankets. But, upon the whole, it
rather mortified him. He could not feel
the loving kindness that sanctifed the
gifts, and the obligation was not pleasant
to the self-sutficient young man. He
had assured Uncle Joseph voluntarily,
and with rather unnecessary pride, that
he wanted nothing with Maggie, neither
gold nor gear nor land; and yet, for all
that, he looked rather anxiously for the
old mans Offering
Joseph Hawick was believed, in spite
of his eccentric attentions to poor pa
tents, to shave money!" and Stephen
fslt that handsome check on Kendall
Bank or q few government bonds would
not be out of place; for he had been at
some expense in refurnishing the old
farmhouse, and he was very anxious to
try some new scientific experiments with
his worn out land.
But Maggie said nothing about her
uncle's present, and Stephen was far too
proud to ask her, until nearly year
Eser their marriage But one dav he
had long talk with old Squire Twaites
about "high farming" and then the two
men drifted into the discussion of some
scheme for the draining of Druid's Moss.
Then Stephen, thinking it all over as he
smoked his pipe by the blazing ingle,
saw untold wealth Of harvest from the |
rich alluvial soil and fabulous wheat
fields growing where men now caught
leeches or shot wild fowl.
If he only had money! If he only had
one thousand pounds in cash! Thwaites
and he would buy and drain the Moss.
He sat dreaming over the project and
counted the acres and bushels over and
Q er, until he began to look upon
Druid's Moss as the one thing upon the
earth to be desired.
"Maggie," he said, suddenly, to the
little wife, sewing and gently rocking
herself beside him, Maggie, what did
Uncle Joseph give you for a wedding
present2 You never told me-"
II thought you would not like it,
Stephen.
Every likely not, but nevertheless,
what was it?n
"A Bible.'
"Just like him; and we had two fam
" ones to begin with, not to speak of
he little ones you have in almost every
room.n
I'm the same way, Stephen, people
gave us napkins enough, for three gener-
,tions, and silver mugs enough to serve
III our friends. Uncle's Bible was by no
means an ordinary one.a
How nota"
ut has been in the Hawick household
'lnce A. d. 1916, aud contains the fam
ly register for more than two hundred
fears. am the last Of our branch;
lncle thought would lika "a haue;+ n