The aegis & intelligencer. [volume] (Bel Air, Md.) 1864-1923, 1894-12-07
miscellaneous.
AN OLD LOVE AFFAIR.

The wind was blowing briskly
straight from the mountains. The
gaunt pear tree growing at the door oil
the little, old weather worn house was
in whirl of flying blossoms. The
cramped front yard and, further out,
the sunken wooden blanks that served
for sidewalk, were heaped and white
| with them.
Behind the house, its one gable
shining sharply against it, a breeze OF
saffron revealed the April sunset.
In all the long street only two per-
sons were visible. One was rosy
faced woman toiling up from the gro
Gerry store below with her arms full of
small packages the other, lank, tall
man, middle-aged, like herself, who
came slouching along from the oppo-
site direction. They met at the gate
of the little house.
well, Rachel"
well, Bill"
"How are yo' gittin' long now?
amt seen yo' TO- nearly two weeks
well, only toler'ble. Mothers
been ailin' more'n usual, an I've been
KEEP pretty close. She's better now.
You look well, Bill"
Yes, nothin' ever happens to me. ,;
He leaned his arms upon the pailings
before him. Want any wood chop
ped, Rachel, or anything heavy moved,
or nail put in somewheres %
No, Bill I'm real comfortable jist
now"
This fence needs fixin'." He shook
it roughly, and a piece of pailing
broke off in his hand. Zone strip
of timber an; a half a dozen nails'd
make it all right again. It's rotten,
| tho; y he shook it once more.
YES, it's old, Bill, like most every
| thing bout here is. A new coat of
white wash IL make it better. guess.
Il won't be here to put it on fo' yo' ,
Rachel I've got a threemonths' job
down to Riders at Haversham. I'm
goin' down the road piece an git a
| lift in his cart. He's waitin' fo' me. ~
I'm real glad to hear it, Bill"
"A good three months job. Rider
daughters goin' to get married, an
he's goin' to give her a house, and I'm
to build it-sort O. cousin O mine, yo'
know" Hepulled himself away from
the fence and held out his hand.
"Yo'll have to do without me for IL
while, Rachel goodby."
"Goodby, Bill"
He fingered yet another minute.
mo show fo' me yet, ELI, Rachel?''
She shook her head. She looked
young as she smiled up at him. With
| that smile on her face she lifted the
latch and let herself into the little
green yard. A daffodil was blossom
ing at the foot of the pear tree. She
stopped to pull it, and, carrying it like
a little candle in her hand, made her
way back to the kitchen. A blaze of
sunset blinded her as she opened the
door. She CROPPED her way across to
the table in the corner, and dropped
her packages in heap upon it.
Two people were speaking in the
adjoining room. She could hear every
word that was said. With bonnet in
hand she stood listening.
lit is fifteen year ago to-day since
Bill Tipsd"le shot my Tom, Mis- Sim
mons"
Yes, remember all bout it, Mis-
Fuller"
AN amt never been able to git
over his doin' it neither. An when
he comes here an wanted my Rachel,
| jist says: No, no girl O. mine is 60
in to marry into a family where they
are SIGH fools they pint loaded guns
at their neighbors.' An he says
'Yo' know didn't do it o. purpose,
Mis- Fuller An l says; Purpose
or no purpose, yo' amt goin' to get
my Rachel An amt ever felt like
sayin' anything different.
The old woman turned her gaze to
the wall. There was no sunset light
in this room the only window opened
toward the east and the pike road. 1t
was light enough, however, for her to
see face that stared down upon her
from its time-worn frame on the
bureau. 1t was a crude, boyish, I'M
satisfactory face, but it had been that
of her idol. A shot from Bill Tips
dale's gun had shattered him. She
grudged the very grass its privilege OF
growing over him.
"To-morrow's Saturday" Rachel
said, IAN I've got to git up early, an
stir round, an work. | haven't a
day mex week en- call my own. I'm
goin' up to the Turner farm to help
with the spring cleanin', an then the
Methodist preachers wife stopped lie
down on the pike, an asked me come
an help her with her sewin'."
The daffodil in the glass on the little
table and few of its kin still left un.
pulled in the neighboring yards were
soon all that survived of the April
bloom. A storm ragged the next day
Green Meadows was swept clean of its
white. May came. June flashed
down upon the hilly land. The bushes
that walled in Bill Tipsdale's little
garden were heavy with roses. Many
a time OH her way back and forth
Rachel pulled handful to put in the
cracked japanese pitcher on the
kitchen shelf. They seemed to bring
her uncouth lover nearer to her. The
year took great stride toward
Thanksgiving. There were scarlet
berries instead of roses on Bill Tips
dale's long bushes.
One Sunday afternoon Rachel broke
off sprig from an overhanging
branch as she passed by on her way
from church.
"Yo' haven't seen him lately, have
yo', Rachel? p
She turned and faced Miss Simmons
mo, not fo' MORN seven months, Mis-
Simmons"
The older woman stood silent a mo
ment and looked, first at Rachel anC
then at the barred, smokeles: house
standing in the thin November light
and back at Rachel again.
They're hardly any O. them-hard
ly any man-worth rememberin' il
that way" nodding toward the Der
ries.
They're pretty" said Rachel
rather stiffiy.
HE amt as nice as yo' think he is
Rachel laying hand on her arm
Don't yo' ever hear any news from
Haversham -
No; what is the matter, Mis- Sim
mons ~
bill Tipsdale's married to Heste
Rider. They've been married more'I
a month"
How do yo' know he's married t.
Hester Rider ~