The Penn's Grove record., 1895-04-19
NUMBER 80.


brown-bearded, gallant Of bearing, was
riding his huge black horse slowly
homeward through the mellow sunset
light. Many a maiden had sent him
shy glances of admiration; many who
would have been honored by his hon.
age, since those old days when be was
known as the lover Of Mora Minturn.
But he was not a nan to give his heart
twice nor to do a woman the injustics
Of offering her mere affection. So, sur
rounded by his books and dogs, he
lived out his own life at his beautiful
home on the hill.
"Hallo! Look out!" he cried, sud
ienly refining up. by George, but
nearly rode over you!"
The old woman coming toward him,
who had so unexpectedly darted for
ward almost under his horses hoofs,
lifted q complacent eountenance, franz
ed in by an antiquated poke bonnet, as
she demanded:
Don't you want to hire my sister
James Eliza, Mr.. Potter?"
"Nor' roared Marion Potter, who was
aware that she was a little deafer than
the proverbial post. "Why should IL
I have three servants now"
Mrs. Barry comprehended, for she
went on persistently:
"But James Eliza can cook, Mr.. Pot.
ter. An If you take her, you wouldn't
have to be havin' your chill auc made
out by Mora Minturn."
Mr.. Potter gave a start.
"Eh7 Steady, Kate! What are you
talking about, Mrs. Barry?'
Mrs. Barry did not hear him. She
numbled on, however, and he listened.
"Says 1 to her. when l happened in
| there Just now, BE you goin' to eat all
| that chill sauce this winterT An she
| lowed that she was maxim some Of 1t
| for you. Now, If your help amt able to
do that much 'ithout your givin' 1t out,
I jist think it 'ud pay you to haveJane's
Eliza to do your cookin'."
Mr.. Potter nodded leniently. He
swerved his horse to n side, smiled
back at Mrs. Barry, and rode on. Mora
| Minturn making his favorite beefsteak
accompaniment for him!
OF course there was q mistake some
where. But chill sauce! He could not
remember when he had tasted 1t. To
be sure. his housekeeper was not an
adept at preparing liable de~licacies.
Why he turnei his HOSES head out
Of the road leading to the Hall and rode
down that which led to the Minturn
Homestead, he could not have told to
save lbs life. Indeed, he was not aware
that no had done so until the tempting
odor of sliced tomatoes assailed his nos
trils, and at tie same second he caught
sight Of Miss Minturn in the garden
shipping away at some belated blooms
Of marigold, phlox, honeysuckle and
n~ignonette.
So familiar the scene! So sweet and
peaceful the place! So suggestive Of
home the trim form moving among the
whitening bushes! Could 1t be that
twelve years had elapsed since he came
here to visit his sweetheart? He swung
down, secured Kate to the gate-post
and walked up the path.
"Morar' he said as he neared her.
She Strengthened up. Her garnered
spoils fell from her apron. The pink In
her cheeks d~eepened. She felt distinct
lively glad that she had put on her new
maroon house gown.
"I net old Mrs. Barry a short while
ago." he went on, hastily. "She said
you were putting up some chill sauce
Tor me-" D.
"oh, did she say that? l could not
ma y her understand that 1t was for
old rars. Cotter-Mary Ann Cotter of
he Hollow"
"I sayr called a boyish voice-"that
you, Mr.. Potter? Never knew you come
up here's afore. Say-that setter you
gave me ~, daisy! Are you going to
stay to supper? Is he, Aunt Mora?'
,oaxingly.
"If he will" ,
"Of course he WILL" decided the un-
conventional nephew Of Miss Minturn
Come and see my safety" .
He dragged his captive or in triumph,
Such a supper as Mora got up in a
short space Of time might tempt a dy-
ing anchorite to eat" The crisp broil.
ed chicken. with the tiny, transparent
rolls of bacon surrounding 1t; the brown
French n ed potatoes, piping hot; the
light. { y gingerbread; the feathery
bIsca8 he cld-fashioned strawberry
presekzs 81; the fTesh-brewed, fragrant
ea.
Dick Hid most OF the talking at sup
per-there was no doubt OF tlat But
when Mora walked down TO the gate
with MI. Potter about 8 o'clock he had
two Jars Of the chilli sauce, which at
supper he had SO praised, under his
urn.
"Mora," he said, 81 have seldom seen
you for many years, although we have
lived so neal together. I'm glad of this
chance to say how sorry 1 have often
been for my dictatorlal tone that time.
years ago. / was wholly In the wrong"
"No-nol 1. was too self-concentrat.
ed. It was l who was wrong"
"Mora, is 1t too late to forgive; forget
and amend nowE
She held out he. hands to him. He
had to put the two jars of chill sauce
down on the gate-post to take them.
The horse neighed impatlently. Dick
called from the lighted doorway.
Around the reunited lovers closed the
darkness. sweet with a thousand deli.
cIous autumnal scents.
"Guess, Aunt Mora" grunted Dick,
iisdainfully, next morning. "Mr. Pot
Her didn't care much for your chill
sauce. for all he begged for it so. He
went of last night and left the jars you
gave him standing on the gate-post."
A Terrible Addiction.