The Penn's Grove record., 1894-02-16
THAT DREADFUL BOY.

the great house near our small cottage
changed hands! |. was young at The
time, an awkward, pale-fsced girl o
fourteen, and bitterly regretted that ]
could no longer wander at will ovel
the smooth lawn, and ride Lady Gray
through the wide gravelled roads.
Nevertheless, | was watching with greal
interest the arrival of the new tenants,
and admiring the wonderful furniture,
when | heard a sharp voice say;
"Iello, gawky! Where'd you come
from?'
| turned, red with anger, and beleld
a boy with eye full of mischief staring
at me. He was about sixteen, broad
and ruddy, with a pleasant face; but |
hated him for calling me ''gawky, ~
and stood glazing at him like a little
tigress. He looked more and more
amused as / became more and more
angry: but when he said, stare away,
chiekl Don't look so scared. l Wont
eat youl" /, without a moments
thought, walked over to him and de.
liberately boxed hi. ears.
He Jumped back, astonished at the
sudden assault, then, roaring with
laughter, leaped over the low stone
wall and disappeared. Isat on a stone,
and thought how dreadful it would be
to have that boy for a neighoor.
The next day, while riding Lady
Gray down the road, | met him; for a
moment we looked at each other, and
then he fell on the grass and rolled
over and over in wild fits of laughter.
How angry / wasl Even now | can
feel the blood rushing to my cheeks at
the memory. | never wore a habit,
and as I was o thin and angular,
with large frightened eyes, no doubt
seemed an odd figure on horseback.
For a year / was miserable, and all
on account of that dreadful boy, who
never tired of laughing at my oddities;
many a time | came home and erie |
with rage. But the next year he went
to college, and I was happy; | knew he
would not be back for five wears, for
his parents we're dead, and his guarii-
an had decided to shut up the house
during his absence.
When the five years had expired no
one would have recognized the thin,
frightend-looking child of fourteen III
the rosy, saucy maiden l had become.
William Weldon came home, but he
no longe- ridiculed Lady Gray and me-!
On the contrary, he seemed to admire
my mare, and one day said:
"She's a good horse-no style, but
goes well. How much would you take
for herr"
Sell Lady Gray!' / flung my arms
around her neck, turning my back on
the author of such a thought. lie
laughed and walked away.
After that we saw each other very
often, and ~quarreled almost as fire.
quently.
William Weldon's way of laughing
at n and everything, without respect
to persons, never failed TO arouse my
ire The fact that he simply could not
help it did not render the peculiarly
more bearable. Women are not like
men in this respectively seldom hold
Jokes in high favor.
Then sorrowfnl days came to mother
and me. Our little store was fast di-
minishing, and we strove to add 10 it
by sewing for our richer neighbors.
But work was not plentiful, and too
soon the time arrived when | realized
that our home must be given up, and
what seemed worse, Lady Gray must
20 to.
l led my beautiful pet from her stall
one afternoon, and rode her into the
woods, where | dismounted and sat on
a fallen tree to think matters over,
Next week the auctioneer would come,
and we must leave our home and 60 to
the city where money might he earned.
The thought was very bitter, and for
hours l wept with the passionate aban-
donaient of youth. The sun was low
in the heavens when l rose to return.
Lady Gray! Lady Gray Where
are your" / cried, not seeing my horse
anywhere. But she had evidently gone,
and l must walk back.
1 vas not troubled by her disappear
snce, for she could find the way home,
/ knew; but it vas a+ong tramp for me
and mother would be alarmed at my
absence. / hurried along, and was
soon lost in thought again. Ga |
tramped, head down, eyes on the
ground, until suddenly | stumbled and
fell over a heavy root, striking my
eead with such force that l became un
conscious.
1t was dark when ! recovered. Before
l had time to realize where l was a
horse and rider came in sight, and |
found myself face to face with William
Weldon.
''Well, my little spittre, here you
arel Your poor mother sent me to
look for you. What has happened?'
he asked in his light way,
Il fell and struck my head; quite =
joke, isn't it," | answered shortly; for
/ still regarded this young man with
disiavor.
Poor little woman!" he returned.
"What a pity she never learned 10