The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1895-03-10

There's a lark iu the s.lvery sky.
And a thrush on the wild rose spray,
And peoples ia the green corn.
The old inn stands back some thirty
yards from the broad white road. from
which the hot dust flies to-day in binding
clouds a chestnut tree on one side gives
an oblong patch OF shade that overspreads
a long deal table dauAed by two benches.
A weeping willow faces the chestnut,
and under its no less grateful shadow is
smaller table OF iron and also chair or
two. Beneath the projecting gables OF
the inn some one has hung baskets. of
differing sizes. an ablaze just now with "A
bewildering mass OF geraniums, pink and
scarlet. and darkest crimson These trail
IN graceful garlsnds over the window cor
nices. and from below no less dazzling
festoons Of roses. deep red and apricot
colored. climb mp to meet them. Although
the house lies in shadow. it has AN il
Eliminating glow all it's own. emanating
from these flowers. As / stopped at the
door. one afternoon last June "a man led
out a white horse and watered him at a
trough by the weeping willow. lie went
slowly away. singing a verse OF the last
music-hall stave. while the landlady's
blackbird, hanging hard 10y. looked out
through his wicker bars and chartered i'm
the peculiar agitated note Of his race as
a cat stalked along the window ledge. IL
was only for the sake of attracting at
tention; he knew that the tabby would
not risk a single one Of his lives by touch
ing a feather Of Mrs. Dunlop's pet.
A little breeze came soughing through
the chestnut leaves. and moved the faded
signboard ever so gently. The hinge
creaked. and the startled fawn. whose
painted coat is very dingy at the present
day. quivered on his wooden panel as
II he were going to bound away into the
dusky thicket by which he stands. a
farmer pulled mp his cart in front of the
door. helped his good wife 10 Chamber
out. and called for the barmaid Then
man on foot joined them. and the three
ordered beer for the farmer, and ginger
ale for the lady, and sat peacefully down
within the cool shelter Of the glossy
leaves. 1t was an ideal June day one that
] could have wished to be prolonged into
infnity; the sky all transparent blue,
with only a single cloud like a small white
hand floating over my head. When I de.
scended at the inn door ! mad already driv-
on some eight miles along the hard white
road. and, feeling hot ana thirsty,
asked for some wine and soda water. ana
sat down on the bench.
Throughout my drive my senses had been
revealing in the panorama of colors. the
bird life in the fields, the air heavily |
sweet with the odors of honeysuckle and !
hay and elder blooms The roadside banks
were brilliant with the lilac of the tall |
mallows. Among the waving green Of the |
blood-red where the peoples grew i'm their |
thousands, and the blue corn flowers now
in fun beauty, nodded their heads beside |
them in glowing profusiOn. Il was a scene
OF brilliancy without gaudiness-hash of
color and light that passed me by, and
left no Impression of over-garishness
upon the brain.
Mr.. Dunlop. the landlord. remarked that
We were having quite the finest June that
he had seen for some fifteen years past
And what a splendid Ascot il was. too.
sir! and my good lady. we went as usual
on the cup day, and we had a grand view
this time. His lordship sir. he looked
quite pale when he led his horse in. The |
people did cheer him too. He's very popu-
lar is Lord Eddington in these parts.
Always a nice civil word for every one,
and her ladyship the same
Mrs. Dunlop had joined her husand and
myself, and was blinking beneath her
hand at the white road.
There he comesr' said she, land my
lady too, in his phaeton."
A dust cloud swirled round the chestnut
tree. powdered the scarlet geraniums, and
made Mr.. Dunlop cough noisily.
It's a funny world" he said presently.
when his choking fit was over.
Times is changed-some says for the
better. some says for the worse. I've no
reason to be down in the mouth because
our business always pays pretty we'll
alike. Has it struck you, sir. that one
don't hear of quite so many scandalous
things in these parts as used to go on?
Not but what-here Mr. Dunlop folded his
arms over his redundant figure some
of the nobs are shady enough still. But
in this particular place they've taken a
turn for the better. So it strikes me-"
Indeed. yes. at Eddington especially.
that they have said Mrs. Dunlop, still
straining her admiring eyes after the
dust-cloud. do you mind it, joint
was just this week as ever is. the week
after Ascot races. twenty years since
when we had that unpleasantness here
in this house with the late lord?"
] could hardly forbear smiling at this
phrase of the good womans for l knew
something of the tragedy which her words
recalled.
I'm in no hurry. Mrs. Dunlop" I said.
Il am going back TO London by quite
late train. Why not tell me the story?
I've heard. of course, just little about
it, but it would be Interesting to have all
the details from one who was on the spot"
Dear, dear!' and Mrs. Dunlop gave n
fat sigh of retrospection. 1T was a bad
job. l always say to everybody l know
marry. l say. in your own spear, what
ever it may be, high or low. if you wish
for 'appiness. But l like young Tom
Drax. too. He was a fine young man
and on his way to the races he'll often
stop now and have a chat. perfect
gentleman he is, no doubt of that"
"Well, Mrs. d., just you get on with this
story of yours-or late train. or early
train. the gen'lman won't hear much OF
it," said Mr.. Dunlop, preparing to light
up his pipe.
] drew up an arm chair close to the
table, and invited Mrs. Dunlop to take
another beside me. Her husband yawn-
ed, stretched himself, and went lumber
ing off to talk to a local hOrse-dealer
whose smart trap cast shadow across
the doorstep. Then the landlady told me
all about some events that had happened
at the Startled Fawn some twenty years
ago I will give the substance of her
narrative in my own less graphic words,
as hers were occa siOnalIy breathless ana