The Prince George's enquirer and southern Maryland advertiser. (Upper Marlborough, Md.) 1882-1925, 1895-11-08
5elrrt MistrllonlI.
STEVE'S WEEDY EIGHTY.
BY ANNIE NJ. BURKE.

Il told you so. | told you son' the moth
er exclaimed as they rode past Steve's
farm. Il knew you'd ought to have ia
ken Steve. | told you you'd regret givin'
him the mitten so sassy! There amt a
&c ;ncr corntield anywhere-no, not even
your own fathers field amt so clean as
that, Clarissie Wayne.
Little Crissie tossed her curls and said
she didn't care. But later when her moth
er was talking of something else and not
noticing her, she looked across Steves neat
eighty, and Il thoroughly puzzled express
ion came into her willful little face
Il don't see what has changed him so!'
she thought "Yo d never know this house
and farm to be the same ones they were
when he asked me to marry him last
spring."
But Crisses good opinion of Steve was
to be still farther enhanced before long.
1t was at the annual county fair which
came the last week in September 1t last
ed three days and Crssie, as was her wont,
attended each day. On the second day the
premiums were awarded. 1t was on the
afternoon of this day that Crissie separated
herself from her companions and made her
way alone through the big exhibition
building and down the long wing where
the farm produce was displayed. Her faith
er had some corn ON exhibition. He had
exhibited some at the fair for the last three
wears and each time he had won the first
premium. He was counting upon the blue
ribbon this year also, and Crissie, who had
was counting upon his getting it too Her
eyes eagerly traversed the row of baskets
containing the Indian corn. She quickly
spied her fathers half-bushel, and to her
disappointment saw that red card was
tied to the handle instead of Il blue She
instantly turned round to see where the
first premium was. She soon found it,
The bit of blue pasteboard was attachedto
another basket far up at the other end of
the wing, and Il well-dressed old farmer
was leaning over the rail examining the
corn closely. She stepped up to him.
'Do YOU know whose corn this is, sir,
ed, rather timidly.
The old farmer paused in his examining
of the grain. Belongs to Il fellow named
McLean-Steve Mclean, his name is-from
the south end of the county. Don't know
him myself, but he's got fine corn whoever
he is, very fine corn. They say he's a
number-onc young farmer-got one of the
best eighties round these parts, | b'liever
Has he:" said Crissie, wOnderin CIV
Then she crcpt away through the crowd.
That night when Mrs Wayne heard who
won the first premium on corn she cried
Il told you So louder than ever. Crissie
knit her browS.
But, mother" said she, what do you
supposed has changed Steve SO? He used
to keep his farm just horlil. What do
you think has got into him."
what do think has got into him." eX-
claimed the mother, with asperity. "Why,
just thiak he's made up his mind to let
the girls alone, an, settle down to good
farmin'. That's what think of him. He's
got out of the notion of the girls, Steve
has"
Crissie stared thoughtfully at the floora
moment; then shut her eyes and laughed
softly. I'll bet | could soon put him into
the notion of them again. she said
The next day was the last day of the fair
In the morning when Crissie was getting
ready to 90, she put on Il little gray silk
dress with white silk yoke and sleeves.
She had not been wearing it lately, for it
had become old faShioned but it was one
that Steve used to beg her to wear in those
days Then she pulled some of her curls
down on her forehead This also was also
old fashioned. and she had not been wear
ing them so, but Steve used to tell her they
were prettiest that way. When she came
downstairs her mother looked at her sus-
piciously; then walked up to her and shook
her finger in her face Mrs Wayne was a
large woman, and Crisse was so small
she seemed especially small in the little
gray sik-that it now looked as if the
child.
"Clarisa Wayne" said she, ''if hear of