The midland journal., 1895-03-01

other than this rather unproductive
farm. Have you ever noticed anything
in the way of suongbox about the
premises?"
Il never have seen any such thing
about, said Elsie coldly. Tho house
is yours, and you are free to search Tor
yourself. "
You need not be quite so curt, FL
sic. l did not suppose you had con-
cealed any of my uncles effects, but |
am not so sure about that fellow Ray
nor By the way, | wish you would
tell him, if he does not intend to make
himself useful, he had better get out of
here and take his four footed beasts and
fowls of the air along with him. | shall
look out for competent man to carry
on the farm, and he will not be need
ed.
Il will not tell him, cried Elsie,
facing round, her eyes flashing fire and
ha.f choked with pain and wrath.
"Why, Elsie" said Arthur, looking
at her with one of his cool, penetrating,
smiling glances, lit can't be you care
for that fellow" And he went out and
saddled his horse and rode away to the
town.
AS the sound of his horses hoofs
clicked on the stony path that led from
the barn down to the road Elsie drop
ped into Uncle Sis old armchair and
putting her head down on her arms as
she rested them on the table sobbed like
child. Paul, too, hid in the old shop
with his tame creatures around him, had
heard the sounds of departure; had
spied, i'll fact, on Arthur's movements
through knothole in the barn, and
now, finding the coast clear, he crept
round to the kitchen door, where an old
white hen had led her downy brood to
pick up the dinner crumbs. Elsie's eyes
were suspiciously red, and he knew in
q moment she had been crying.
Did that fellow say anything in
sulting to you, Elsie? If he did, | will
punch his head for him."
II can take care of myself" said Ell
sic, drawing herself up with girlish dig
nifty, land will not allow you to lay
finger on him. If you pick quarrel
speak to you again.
You have got to let me take care of
you, Elsie, for you have promised your
self to me. l am just spelling for a
fight, but l will try to keep my hands
off him, Now, I'll tell you what my
plan is | am going to hide up in the
woods in the old abandoned hut left by
the charcoal burners. 1t is just over The
crest Of the hill i'll thicket OF hemlocks
flo.it hiIGC II f,,p,,l clio nd ,A+ f,,
away but | can hear you if you come up
to the top of the lane and make the
whippoorwill call taught you long
time ago. Now, try, Elsie, and let me
see if you have forgotten how"
Elsie circled her mouth with her two
hands, and standing erect let out the
long, melancholy cry of the whippoor-
will
Excellent" said Paul, smiling ON
her. Il shall know that call if | am
fast asleep at any hour of the day or
night. shall know that you need me,
and | shall come quickly"
''You can stay here until tomorrow
morning." said Elsie as she began to
take the butter out Of the churn, plac-
ing it i'll large wooden bowl. He has
business in Littlefield that may keep
him until tomorrow noon, and possibly
he may stay away all day"
"Good!' said Paul as he flung him
self down in Uncle Sis great chair. 81
even his leg, but if anything should
happen to detain him week or year
don't expect me to cry"
81 am so glad to have little talk
with sou, Paul." said Elsie, kneading
away at the golden butter with her lit
tie brown hands, for last night l HAD
a very strange dream. l suppose it came
from the thoughts 1 have had in my
mind about Uncle Si.'
"What was the dream?" said Paul,
leaning back in his chair and studying
Elsie's face with his bright blue eyes.
"It was last night, Paul, and the
moon was shining brightly into my
room as lay down in bed. / heard old
Whitefoot stamping i'll his stall, AID
Hiram Meade's dog barking down by the
pond, and the clock striking H. Teen
fell asleep, hut was snddenly awaken
ed with start, for it seemed to Inc tnat
! heard Uncle ST knocking briskly on
the wall at the head of his bed with his
nlk stick to call me, just as he used to
when he wanted me to come and turu
him over i'll the night or to shift the
pillows. l sat up in bed and listened,
with my heart beating violently, but all
was still. Only the leaves ON the old
poplar tree were whispering together. /
lay down again and was off in a min
ute, but suddenly it seemed to me that
| was broad awake. l thought had put
my little shawl around me, and had
taken candle in my hand, and had
stepped across the hall into Uncle Sis
room. He was up and dressed in his
b:Own clothes, with his broad brimmed
nat on his head, l saw him plain as day.
"A wide streak of moonlight lay on
the floor, coming in at the west window.
His back was toward me, and he was
standing in the corner of the room op-
posite the bed, where the mourning
piece hangs on the wall, and, Just as
plainly as l see you now, | saw him
open q closet door and take out a bun
die of papers. He turned and looked at
mo and smiled, and then | awoke and
found myself in bed, but very cold ard
with my teeth chattering The dream
made such an impression on my mind /
got mp, frightened as l was, lighted my
lamp and went into Uncle Sis room.
The bed was white and smooth, Just as l
had made it up after the funeral and