The Anaconda standard. [volume] (Anaconda, Mont.) 1889-1970, 1895-01-20
Ia, Corr. Philadelphia Times.

| | nAtA WITS. lliSAts VI 4Aai
Gus Ingle. l had not been in
the room more than one min.
ute when she began to speak OF
her son, subject that has such posses.
sion of her that, l have heard, the sad
hearted old lady rarely talks of anything
else. When l asked her if the reports long
current about her son and the Glen were
true, or merely the imaginings of super
stitious people, she looked up in surprise
that l should be in doubt, and answered
Yes, child. it is true; true as truth"
Then shaking her head slowly, while a
shadow of sadness crept over her face,
she went on: "And it is all 50 fresh in
my mind that it seems but a week ago
shat we came to live at tho Glen, and it
was nearly 30 years ago. At first we in
tended 10 live on the plantation, but the
situation and general surroundings of the
dwelling did not please my son. He
wanted homelke place away from the
noise and dust of the street, and just such
spot he found in the Glen, which he
made haste to buy and build on.
II had always lived in the citv, and that
country place was perfect treat TO me. L
never wanted TO see n city again, but
wished to live and die at the Glen with my
boy. Mark was fond of his home and
rarely spent an evening in the town. But
felt sure his life was not complete with
only his old mother for a companion, and
having always longed for a daughter
wished every minute in the day that Mark
would marry, and / often expressed my
wish to him, but he would only smile at
me and shake his head and then forget
all about it. Finally gave up all hope of
his ever becoming benedct it had been
a cherished hope, too, and ceased trying
10 arouse a sentiment that he had proba-
bly, never entertained for one instant.
I'VE had been at the Glen three months
before l made any acquaintance. The
TACT is, was SO taken up with our coun-
try home that had no thought for any
thing else. Besides we lived in rather
out-of-the-way place, made so by a
river which seems to separate US from
every one else, and callers we're rarely
thought of.
Zone afternoon, however, there was a
timid knock at the door, such an unusual
occurrence that both of us were eager to
see who the caller was, and when we did
see we smiled. Standing there IN very
long sunbonnet and a very short dress was
girl of about years. She pushed back
her bonnet. showing round, rosy brown
face, set off with large brown eyes and a
braid down her back. She was the pref
test little brownie | had ever seen.
An old-fashoned looking little girl,
too, but | liked her all the better
for that. When she entered the room she
took oil her bonnet, hung it on the rack,
then seating lie rself in a very large chair,
cleared her throat and told us she had
come over TO see the new children. When
l told her there was no children she
looked disappointed, and said all the
other neighbors had plenty of children,
and went on to tell us the names of a
dozen or more. When she had prattlcd
on for an hour or so, she invited us over
to see her and her pa, put on her bonnet
and started toward the river.
We had been both amused and enter
tanned by the child, and urged her to come
over often. Mark, who had said but
little, but stroked his mustache, smiled
and listened, but put on his hat and even
though the little girl said she could man.
nge the skif quite we'll, Mark got in the |
boat, taking his own in tow, and rowed |
over the river to the child's home. He |
came back much pleased with the little |
girls father and much more so with the |
little girl.
Not many evenings after this, Mr. Hall |
N'iiiS ONCis OiiiiSlAiR WIN MN our IlrSI |
caller his daughter Jessie. and after that |
the two came over frequently, Jessie any |
time when the river wasn't rough. We |
grew fond of the lutte woman and missed
her when she failed to come regularly.
] never knew until then that Mark liked |
children. and was naturally surprised to
ace how much hc made of this child, and |
in consequence ! thought of something | |
had never thought of before-adopting n
child. But when | suggested il TO Mark.
he shook his head, and said no, that Jess
would do. His answer was little disap-
pointing, for | had all at once let this
thought run rather high, but Jessie took
the place of an adopted child very we'll.
and often imagined she was half mine;
thus the disappointment was soon for
gotten. Jessie ran up like wild flower
in springtime. and by tho time she
reached her twelfth year was quite a
large girl and just as much of pet with
us as she had ever been.
jess was growing into a prettier
woman than she had been as a child, and
i fell to wondering If she wouldn't vet
prove dangerous companion for my son.
but never a word of my thoughts did |
hint TO either of them, but with my old
eyes / could see a good deal. And by the
time she was Ii one had to be blind, in
deed. not TO see that their friendship was
fast budding into a romance. The thought
pleased me wonderfully, but not a word
or hint came from me. By the time she
was Is their engagement was pretty well
known. Mark seemed as happy as n
king. He acted like a boy of 20 instead
of the staid man of past 30 that he was.
and Was happier than I'd been for years
and constantly wished for the year to
hurry by-they were to be married in a
year-so that Jess could take the place of
bride and daughter that awaited her.
being in love acted like magic on
Mark. His disposition had never taken
Oh such a cheerful, happy turn before.
Blu; Jessie had grown serious. She did
not appear TO be happy, but Mark, poor
boy. blind i'm his love, did not notice II ;
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