Courier Democrat. (Langdon, N.D.) 1891-1920, 1894-02-08
VII sGREGGS.

tis5.ts.s. 4
David Greggs was coming up the dus.
ty road that led to the farm house. The
sun was nearing the west on u hot Au-
gust afternoon, but It was some time
before the men in; the harvest fields
would leave their work, and, tired and
hungry, come up the hill to supper.
l. Some way, Of late, David had been
accustomed often to leave the field at
this early hour, alleging rs an excuse
to his father, some odd jobs to be done
about the house or yard-generally the
former, as David's young brother, Tom
my, with all q small boys proverbial
acuteness, had often noted. Tonight
there had been some work about the
back steps which needed attention.
Like to mend steps now, don't you,
Dave|' Tommy cried out rs the latter
was leaving the field, adding, as a part
ing shot, uttered with that fiendish glee
in which even the best of small broth
ers will at times indulge: Specially
| when Miss SCOTS around
David did not reply, but, shouldering
his rake, left the field, with it's stacks
Of rlpened wheat.
AS he came down the road, the suns
rays lighting up the bronzed, boyish-
looking face and the blue jean suit
which he wore, he seemed the only
thing lacking to give a picturesque look
to the landscape.
Great stretches of low hills were all
about, with now and then more level
tract between, all treeless save for the
scattered foliage that some half-mile
away marked the course Of the little
stream. The hills were yellow with the
ripening grain. The blue summer sky
stretched above and made the scene on
this summer afternoon a fitting back
ground for the figure Of the strong,
rugged young farmer.
Butt was not the beauty of the scene
or still less, of his picturesqueness, that
David Greggs was thinking. His
thoughts wer busy with the one subject
which somehow for days and weeks had
been gradually crowding all other
things from his mind.
David Greggs was not cultured man
He was not even educated, save as a
few months now and. then at the little
school in NJ had made him. He had
lived always here on his fathers farm.
The world outside of the green hills
was great unknown place, to him and
he had been content to have it so. His
mother and father seldom spoke of
their life before they came west. Per
haps the toll and trouble Of thirty years
upon the farm had well-nigh blotted out
any thought of higher, broader life.
At any rate David and his younger
brother Tommy had known nothing of
1t and the elder had reached the age Of
q: with no desire for any other exist.
ence. He had been quiet child and
rs he grew up he remained So If he
thought much sometimes no one knew
1t and his shy, awkward manners kept
hin. from any close intercourse with
the neighboring farmer boys, so that
the change that had come over him
since Grace Scott and her father came
to the farm to board had not been I'M
l.cticed by his companions in the field.
Pears like David's mighty pert Of
late" said Jack Etson, one day as Da-
vid left the field with a merry whistle
on his lips, and it was true that the
farmers son had not been so light
hearted for many LAY as in this
month Of harvest.
EARLY in the summer Mr.. Scott and
his daughter Grace had come to the
farm. Mr.. Scott had been very ill,
and only western air and life. SO the
doctors said, would restore him to
health. And thus he and his daughter
had come to Montana. Grace found
the wild, rough life delightful after q
season in Boston society,". Every
was fresh and new to her She enjoy.
cd the sturdy, rough people of the
farms and ranches and with girls de-
light entered into the rough existence
here on the farm.
Mrs. Greggs had already become
much attached to the bright-faced, mer-
ry, young girl who made the house
so pleasant and helped her in many lit
tie ways.
Even the stolid. somewhat stupid
looking farmer himself liked to look at
the girl as she sung about the house.
It'll seem mighty lonesome when the
gals gone," he said one night to his
wife. who assented with sigh. Was
she thinking Of her own daughter, who
had died when child. leaving place
in the mothers heart forever untitled?
And David? He had never seemed
to think that time would come when
Grace would be no longer at the farm.
He lived on from day to day, satisfied
with the present, for in all his starved,
narrow life no one had talked to him
as did this girl.
1t was his first glimpse into the outer
world. his first contact with ideas
broader and higher than his own What
wonder that he accepted eagerly, with
all his thirsty soul, the help that Grace
so willingly gave him? In David the
girl was much interested. 10 her he
was a study. His rough honesty de-
lighted her She liked to talk with
him and draw him out" as she ex-
pressed it.
''Hes not half as stupid as you think,
papa" she said one day. ''Of course
he's not educated like Harry or even
naturally bright, but he's not so unin-
teresting after all when one once gets
him to talk"
And Grace had talked to him and
tried to be kind to the awkward, over
grown boy. She was sorry for him,
as she thought of his hard, joyless life
and. in her womanly kindness, tried to
brighten his hard lot. He was but a
boy to her, for Grace though not as old
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