Martinsburg independent. [volume] (Martinsburg, W. Va.) 1875-1900, 1894-12-08

disturbing me, put hated 10 nave
him there. 1t seemed no place for
him. / wondered if he, too, was
conscious of that. Then / turned
hot and cold.
The milkman gave one quick
glance at me and my companion and
turned away without giving me an
opportunity to bow. I was terribly
hurt and saw how much my foolish
pride for him was when it appeared
in his actions, too. I did not hear
what Mr.. Merriman was saying. I
only knew that the milkman had not
spoken to me. and I, the judges
daughter felt like crying because of
it.
Rather a good looking fellow,
that milkman," remarked Mr.. Merri-
man, carelessly. 81 don't think /
ever saw him before. He can't amount
to much, driving milk cart at his
age.n
I realized the truth of this remark.
" Perhaps he can't get anything
else to do"
"He can't be very brilliant, then,
but of course one doesn't expect
much from people of that class"
What class ?"
Why, his, of course. I had no
idea you took so much interest in
him." laughed Mr.. Merriman, seeing
my disapprovlng face. II dare say
he has widowed mother with nine
small children to support"
"Then you shouldn't make fun of
him." I said tartly. There is no
disgrace in driving a milk wagon
WE'LL"
At my last word Mr.. Merriman
shouted and after moment I laugh
ed, too, but I think he found me in
rather bad temper, though of course
he did not connect it with the milk
man, for he left me at our gate and
did not suggest going in.
1 ran to my room and locked the
door and cried little, though I had
no idea why, "for, of course, Sylvia"
I said to myself, ''you don't care
what milkman does.n
"You need not be afraid, Miss
RUSSELL" said the milkman next
morning, "of my speaking to you
from the wagon when you are with
friends. I have too much respect
for myself"
ooh, surely you don't think y
I stopped suddenly.
81 never think, Miss Russell. 1t
takes all of my time to look after my
widowed mother and the twelve or is
it nine ?-babies."
Then l knew he had heard Mr.. Mer-
riman. / blushed furiously and held
up my hand for the pail. think be
saw was hurt, for he touched me,
but l drew away my hand quickly.
Just then Mrs. Sage and two young
ladies drove by and stared quisical-
ly, thought. l was tempted to run
into the house, when saw them
coming, but conquered the impulse.
When they had passed, he looked
at me with the little quizzical look
he wore so often.
Why didn't you go" he asked.
"Where ?" blushing uncomforta-
bly,.
sob, anywherel You looked like
a sweet pea on tiptoe for flight "
He drove on without waiting for
my answer. Oh, Sylvia, Sylvia, a
milkman quoting poetry to you, and
you did not snub him
How struggled against the fas-
cinatien the man had for me during
those summer weeks, and how fast
my heart learned to beat when I
heard that dreadful bell which he
rang, ringing as child would, with
the greatest amusement on his face
at his own performance.
| was sure he knew | would come
when he rang, and I resented it, but
| tried staying in the house for two
or three days and missed seeing him
so much that / went after that in
spite of my resentment.
He was such queer fellow. /
never could understand how be could
be what he was. We discussed a
great variety of subjects as he meas
ured the milk-poetfy, religion, poll
tics, novels, flowers, the weather,
woman's rights, the milk-and all
subjects, but the last / found him
surprisingly well informed. On the
subject of milk and COWS / thought
him amazingly ignorant.
/ We were speaking one day of the
ferns in my fernery and be told me
where I could find a great deal Of
maidenhair.
" 1t is not long drive" he said
IF you would allow me"- HI