Mineral Point tribune. (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1869-1938, 1895-11-21

perfected, in the possession = pie'e
others love. zach
And the years have rolled on h,,.
ing manifold changes in their tr.s
AS soon as he had married his hs HI
tiful girl-wife, Merryweather tbra.,
his BUSINESSMAN act most siroep
deplored from Garth to Stilhoro,at
and settled down at Oldfriars Il =.
life of a country gentleman. As
He was a rich man, as folks -,
knew, and the step was ineyitabIa IN
Oldfriars they would dwell tos... ~
until-well, until their eldest ,'
should have attained his one-ana
twentieth year. When thai go.
should come to pass, Herman 80
Alicia had decided between them ~.
the fine old place must be given - 10y =
the boy, and that they themsoI,.s y
would find another home ELSEWHERE
The sun is dying in the golden i'll
purple west. The woods and fells 81
miles round are bsthed in mal,o,.
light. The splendid windows Il &.
ancient house are aaame with colosas
fires, while borne on the fresh septem.
Der breeze comes the wild, lapid nj.
of the river. Alicia and two Of ~
children-the baby Alicia is indoors
are under the trees in the park wat,
ing for Herman's home-eoming !.
dinner. He has been absent All aav
long, shooting with young Carrineton
and Richard Blount Alicia. never
quite happy unless at her husbands
side, fancies he is rather late.
Fair as ever she looks, though now
matron verging on thirty, as she sits
there in garden seat, a shawl half
concealing her dress OF palest mink
her dark eyes searching the rising
ground over which Herman will an.
pear by and by.
Mamma, mamma" presently crias
one Of the two youngsters running IN
to her from his play, rudy and
breathless, The has said it again-he's
always saying it now, since papa told
him the other day. Is it true
mammal"
Alicia lays her slender hand upon
the curly pate of the child.
Whatever papa may have hold your
brother Ruy, my dear" she saws.
gravely, lis true, you may be sure.
He never told an untruth in his life
recollect, and-and, my darling, |
would have you try to grow up like
him in this respect, as in everything
else. What is it, Herman chat your
brother Ruy has been saying?"
'IIe says-he says. pants the young
ster. looking up with great wondering
and still incredulous eyes, that when
he is man he-he will be Ruy PEN
rith, and not Ruy Merryweather any
longer and-and papa told him so,
he says
Then the elder boy runs up too-a
fearless, dusky-eyed little fellow, with
the unmistakable beauty Of his lovely
mother.
Eyes, papa told me SC" he says,
proudly. Il am to be Ruy Penrith--
Ruy Penrith' emphasizes
well as Ruy Merryweather. And
mamma
At this juncture, the big-nailed door
in the ivied wall of the pleasaunee
near opens slowly. and venerable
dame, in high white cap and wide
white apron, is seen under the crumb-
ling gray archway. In her withered
old hands she holds out basket Of
fruit.
Look, my darlings," exclaimed
Alicia, blithely. "There is Mrs,
Ounce; she has something for you,
Run"
They are off in a trice, the vexed
question forgotten, and, the moment
afterward, with cries of shrillest de-
light, they are jumping round and
clambering up the good old soul, who
clutches the ivied gate-posts for sup
port.
Alicia smiles at the onslaught; and
then, still smiling, turns her head 70
see her husband coming over the grass
toward her garden chair, gun on his
shoulder and dogs at his heels she Is
speedily with him, clinging TO his
brown velvet sleeve and lifting her
head for kiss. 1t is given again ana
again, for are they not lovers still?
And although the dreadful shadow
has long since been banished from oid
Oldfriars, and the sunshine OF love
reigns there dominant and supreme
there is yet a legend treasured up u
the archives of Garth-a legend thal
will never die.
On cold and bitter nights III tle
dead Of winter-time, when the winds
sweeps wildly up the village street
fraught with wailing cries, and bursts
of demoniac laughter, rocking .le
wood and plaster walls of its quaint
old glabled dwelling houses, and ocea-
sionalls hurting tile or two 70 ing
stones in the road below-when the
rush of the dismal river is hearu
even above the blast, the strahse
witch-like sounds Of lamentations are
borne high into the murky air, caugh'
up, it would seem. from the wiaus