Staunton vindicator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1860-1896, 1894-03-16
A BERKSHIRE STORY.

turned in at the open gate Of the first
farnyard. and riding up to the vine
covered porch Of the quaint old house
lifted our wheels to protected spots at
either side Of the paneled door. 1t may
have been presuming upon hospitality
as yet une2tended, but then no one
stops at such conventionality i'll the
Berkshires, and were we not in the
Berkshires? The storm burst, and we sat
on the porch beside our faithful steel
steeds, watching the clouds hurry by,
the tall trees bend in the eddying wind
and the cooling water fall to the thirs-
ty earth. Somehow the smoke of our
cigarettes seemed strangely out Of place
in that old fashioned spot, and Harvey
observed that he would have felt more
comfortable with an old brier pipe and
a package Of plug cut. A quiet half
hour slipped away, while the storm in
creased rather than diminished, and re-
alizing that we were to be weather
bound for few hours at least the ne
cessity OF luncheon became apparent,
and Harvey arose to the attack. Har-
vey is an actor in season, and what he
has learned in the matter of picking up
meals on the western circuits helps him
UNNECESSARILY in summer vacations.
Repeated beating upon the door failed.
however, to elicit the slightest response
from the inmates, and my anticipatory
dreams of soft eyed, rustic Ganymede
went gloomily to pieces.
There must be corpse in the
house.. remarked Harvey reassuringly.
leaning upon his bicycle and turning
On me look of hungry resignation.
was framing in my mind a neat reply
more sarcastic than apropos when the
oaken door suddenly opened inward, and
an extremely pretty girl with long cur
~ golden hair and Zig blue eyes con-
fronted Us. Surprise was mutual, bat
she seemed the most confused.
why, Why she faltered, I'll
thought to fnd one Of the neighbors,
but-but' -
There is no cause fer alarm, in
terrupted Harvey in the voice OF his
most approved stage father. I'VE are
perfect gentlemen, although our ap-
pearance is admittedly against lis. We
took the liberty to use your porch as 4
shield from the weather and trust that
we are not intrrding.'
''Oh, no-no," she answered con-
fusedly. You will excuse me. Dave
is hurt. l must go for the DOCTOR" and
she ran by us and down the steps into
the rain, lifting her calico skirts just
high enough for us to see that her pref
ty feet were but thinly covered with
light slippers. Harvey was at her side
in an instant.
Pardon me, said he. Where does
the doctor liver
"Only mile or SO, she replied, with
out stopping, up the road" (She pro-
nounced it "rud,'' but l am writing
this in English.) Harvey caught her
arm and pulled her back to the shell
tering porch.
But you must not run mile OF SO,
he cautioned, lin such storm as this,
without hat, shawl OF shoes. 1t would
kill you. | will go for the doctor. Ny
wheel moves faster than your little
feet.'' Tine girl hesitated moment and
then, as Harvey stood ready to start
away, thanked him shortly and gave
directions for finding the doctors house.
''All right. Goodby,'' he shouted,
leaping into the saddle. You take care
Of Dave"
sob. dear, hope he'll hurryH' said
the girl. turning to me as Harvey shot
out on the road and sped away through
the mud and rain faster than he had
ever run from the villain in the play.
L ~.
'fPerhaps might assist you, / ven
tured. II am bit Of an amateur ply
sician. May l see Dave!'
She led the way into the narrow hall
way. up the creaking staircase, wall
papered at the sides in imitation Of
white marble, and into a stuffy little
chamber just under the dipping caves.
A great. deep chested, sunburned young
fellow lay upon a tiny iron bedstead,
while one muscular leg hung over the
edge, shattered and bleeding. An old
woman with soft gray hair and the eyes
of the girl bent above him and called
his name again and again in tones of
the most piteous tenderness. AS we en-
tered she turned to my pretty guide,
and regardless of a strange presence
cried:
lie is dead, Ciepnie, dead! My
Dave is dead!'' and fell at the side Of the
little bed, sobbins and crying. The girl
quickly g1ided by me, and placing her
hand upon the mar S chest said quietly:
HE is not dead-only unconscious. -
I drew near and saw at once that she
was right. The limb had been injured
- 10 some farming accident and an artery
broken. | set about to stay the iion Of
blood. The girl brought NE q bit Of
tape, and together we bound it tightly
about the bleeding limb, but it was not
strong enough. and the flow was only
decreased. tore slip from the coun-
terpane and wound it over the tape, and
this was decided improvement. Mean
"hlle the poor mother had tainted OF
nervous eAia isstion. and the girl busted
herself administering restofatiyes. i
was just beginning to wish myself back
IN Park row when Harvey's familiar
voice Tesounded through the house, and
in another minute he and the doctor,
covered 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 treasured
her in few words and cautioned
against disturbing the sleeper.
..Let him sleep as long as he will, he
said. land I'll have him about In fort
night.
"A fortnight!'' exclaimed the moth
er. "Why, what will become Of the
farm? He was getting in the hay when
the horse SHE'D. and he went under the
rake and was hurt. We cannot do that
work. Clemmie can only looE9af the
cows and chickens and the garden, and
I'm too frail TO help her. Oh, Dave, it
we should lose you''-turning to the
bed-"it would be all over.
The alacrity with which Harvey and