The Forest Republican. [volume] (Tionesta, Pa.) 1869-1952, 1894-08-15

not go, but"
"Why shouldn't go2" said Esther.
'Don't / go up every year when they
are sugaring Off"
Jessamine Striker began to giggle.
eyes," said she, "but our Leonidas
has never beer there until this season,
and Mr.. Jefferson has never been so
particular in his attentions to you be-
FORE"
Esther crimsoned to the roots of
her hair.
"What ridiculous nonsenseI" said
she.
ooh, is it, though?" retorted Jessa-
mine. "When all the world knows
that Jack Jefferson is as jealous as
Othello."
Esther walked on, with silent dig
nifty. In her secret heart she was be-
ginning TO regret that she had put her
self out to accompany these silly girls.
'Don't mind Jess, DEAR" said good
humored Alice Striker, slipping her
hand through Esther's arm. "She
will giggle at everything-it's her ma
ture. Isn't this a charming morning?
1 heard blue-bird in the swamp down
by the river, and there's a lot of yell
low jonquils in bloom in Anne Rebec-
cas- window-box. The snow is thaw-
ing in the sunshine, but the walking
is good yet, and Leon says the maple
trees have never given better yield.
Up at the sugar camp, all was life
and animation. Blue threads of
smoke wound upward to the sky from
the chiIneys of the two Or three board
shanties, thatcbed with strips of bark
and trusses of straw, where the
''hands" kept house in gypsy fash
ion. The great kettles where the
sirup was boiling down to the requisite
solidity were watched by select de-
putations, lest the fires should slacken
or the saccharine masses scorch, while
others were attending to the i'm
promptu stone chimney in the open
air, while the carcass of wild turkey
was whirling around and around in
front of the blaze, impelled by a most
ingenious rotary spit, and nest of
potatoes was baking in the hot ashes
below. The girls were joyfully well
coined. Uncle Peter chuckled aloud
at the sight of the cruliers made after
his mothers time-honored recipe. The
two young Strikers extended hospi-
table invitation to their meal, even
now in process of preparation.
'Leon shot the turkey yesterday by
Lone Lake." said Tom. "And it's
prime one, you bet. Rather nicer
than the salt Goldfish we had reckoned
on"
But Esther declined to say.
"I'll just take a look at the sugar
kettles" said she, "and then hurry
back to mother. We're going to have
the parsons folks to tea, and there's
deal to do"
Leonidas Striker escorted her to
the largest kettle of all, ordinarily
called "Big Ben," and gave her the
monster stick to stir the bubbling
waves of sweetness.
"There," said he, ''you can say
you've helped to sugar off this year.
Isn't it a splendid yield? And maple
sugars going to be high this season
Oh, you'd better stay, Esther, there's
lot of young folks coming up this
afternoon, and Darky Jones is to be
here with his fiddle !"
"Oh. 1 couldn't, possibly!" said
Esther. In truth and in fact she had
not been quite at her ease since Jessa-
mines unlucky allusion to Othello in
conjunction with Mr.. Jefferson; and
she did not breathe freely again until
she had reached home, where her
mother was just clearing away the
dinner dishes.
"Has any one been here?" said
she.
who should be here?" counter
questioned Mrs. Elmford. 81 don't
expect Elder Morris's folks until four
o'clock.
As Esther took off her things in the
little chamber upstairs, where the
shingled roof sloped down to the
caves, she glanced down at the en-
gagement finger. Terror of terrors,
the sparkling little ring was gonel
1t was past four o'clock. Mrs.
Morris was droning away in the sit
ting-room about the last missionary
box which had been sent out to the
Hougara Indian Reservation; Miss
Adelgitha Morris was admiring her
hostess's most recent crazy patchwork;
the two little Morrises were playing
checkers, and the good elder himself
was laying down tones of theological
law to Farmer Elmford while Esther,
with tear-swollen eyes, was mixing a
batch of biscuits for tea in the
kitchen. All of sudden she caught
sight of John Jefferson riding past on
his gray pony, with averted face. In
an instant she caught down the shawl
that hung on the peg back of the
buttery door, and mufiling it around
her head and shoulders, darted across
the snowy backyard where she could
intercept her lover at the curve of the
road.
"Jack Jack |" she cried, piteously.
'1've lost it Your ring Oh, Jack,
do say something to comfort me /
am so unhappy.
Mr.. Jefferson drew up his steed and
faced Esther with a scornful light in
his eyes which she had never seen be-
fore.
eyes" said he, calmly; 81 knew
you had lost it. know how you lost
it. 1 know to whom you have given
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