The Cambria freeman. [volume] (Ebensburg, Pa.) 1867-1938, 1894-06-01

counterpane and / wound II over the
tape. and this was a decided improve
ment Meanwhile the poor mother had
tainted of nervous exhaustion and the
girl busted herself administering re-
storatives ] was just beginning To
wish myself back on Park row, when
Harvey's familiar voice resounded
through the house. and in another
minute he and the doctor. covered from
head To foot with mud, were with me
Brought the doc along on my coast
ers" explained Harvey. His horse :
was too slow for the case
The doctor promptly ordered the girl
To remove her mother. and then with
our assistance set the broken bones,
bound up the leg and gave the patient
a light injection of morphine. BY this
time the old lady had recovered and
was back again The doctor reassured
her in few words and cautioned
against disturbing the sleeper.
Let him sleep as long as he will. -
he said, and I'll have him about in a
fortnight
"A fortnight" exclaimed the mother.
why, what will become of the farm?
He was getting in the hay when the
horse SHE'D, and he went under the
work. Clemmie can only look after
the cows and chickens and the garden.
and I'm too frail To help her. Oh, Dave.
if we should lose you"-turning 10 the
bed-''it would be ali over
The alacrity with which Harvey and
l offered to remain on the scene and
play farmhands until Dave was well
was, thought only equaled 10y Glenn
mics seconding of the proposition. and
we staid
Those three weeSs-it was three be
fore Dave could walll-were a beauti-
full Arcadian dream-a breath of a life
we had never known before 1t was
all novelty, all interest To US, and Glenn
mie was a most excellent instructrcss
in the gentle art of farming. Every
night when we had done milk ing the
cows, feeding and watering the stock
and all the hundred other things that
rustics have to do, Harvey would say:
There Il no getting around 1t. you've
got to write a pastoral play for me
when we get where there are pen and
ink. If, after this. 1 cant out-Wh:t-
comb Whitcomb and out-Prouty-Prou
l want to know" And it seemed Ike
dropping the curtain on the prettiest
sort of a play when one sunny August
morning we rolled our wheels ont and
pointed them for Pitts field. The trio
of the old house stood upon the quaint
little perch and watched u oil up and
make ready Dave was just able To- be
about and help himself. There were
tears in the old moth .r's eyes when she
held our hands and said:
''Good-by. my sons. and God be with
You. You have helped Kim to save my
Dave, and he viii bless YOU for IL
I've always heard that &C tors and
newspaper men were very bal, indeed.
but I'll never believe IL again. Guou-
by" And then Dave, on Clemmie-s
arm, hobbled down To the old vine
wound gate. aEd there we left them
standing in the shadow of the great
elms and waving n parting hat we had
promise should not be for long
Neither of us had much To say as we
glided along At the foot of the EN- erald
hills, and, for my part tears would
have come easier than words
That was an odd remark of Glenn
mics this morning." said Harvey at
length, about losing a ring aud max
ing rs all swear to return IL when
found
Il thought SO at the time" an
swercd.
just then he dived into his coat pock-
ct, and producing his cigarette case
opened 1t with an exclamation of sur
prise.
What's wrong?" 1 queried. riding
alongside. In reply he held out the
case, and there, on the cigarettes, lay
Ciemmie's little turquoise ring.
shall you keep your promise?" I
asked
''Of course" said he, fastening the
jewel securely to his watch chain ''Of
course | will-but. say. You might post
pone writing that pastoral play for me
until i return the ring There may be
a new suggestion for you-"-George
Taggart, in Journalist