The pioneer express. [volume] (Pembina, Dakota [N.D.]) 1883-1928, 1895-08-16

ungratified; and Mt fve-and-thirty
years Of age he lay down to die upon
q heap of stones of cold and hunger.
The Old, Old Story.
CHAPTER I.
Fourteen years have passed away
since that autumn night, and our read
ers must suppose themselves trans
ported, on one calm, warm, summers
evening to that cockney's paradise,
Hampstead Heath.
Those who know this place only by
report sneer at 1t MS the resort of st.
Giles on bank holidays, and the
chosen ground of donkey drivers; and
have vague notion that 1t is Il bar
rem, dried waste, quite unworthy the
attention of refined people.
And yet the lover of the picturesque
may travel many miles in this or any
other land before he will find n more
beautiful spot, more charming land
scape than he may behold from the
northern side of the heath, looking to-
ward Harrow and HendOn and Finch
ley, with their rising expenses of
wood and grass and corn land.
Even the hand of the destroyer, that
in time would have made the place a
mere sand-pit, has added to its natural
beauties by creating an undulating
surface Of valley and hillock, which
when covered by the golden broom,
the purple heather and the green
bracken, presents picture of eXQuis-
lite beauty.
No contrast can be more grateful to
the LOndOner than to escape from his
wilderness Of brick, his close, heavy
atmosphere, and, mounting to those
bracing heights. cast himself upon the
soft, sprlngy turf, or lounge upon one
Of the wooden seats beneath the shell
scr Of overhanging trees, and give
him up to the luxury Of sunlight and
fresh air and scenery.
On the evening we have chosen to
conduct the reader to the spot, the air
was ringing with the shouts and
laughter Of children, as they chased
one another up and down the hollows
and among the brambles and the tall
ferns, and many grown-up people were
strolling In all directions, enjoying the
sweet, soft atmosphere and the mild
warmth Of the declining sun.
Among the Inter were q youth and
young girl, who. after a while, seat
cd themselves upon piece of rising
ground looking northward and COM
manding one of the finest prospects
that the Heath can boast.
But they did not seem to bestOw
much attention upon the landscape be-
cause they were insensible to Its beau
ties, but just then they were In deep
conversation that engaged all their
thoughts.
The youth might have been twenty,
certainly not more; he was a fine,
handsome young fellow, with dark
eyes and hair, q complexion glowing
with health and frank. open ex-
preston Of face that would win him
friends wherever he went.
His companion looked about eighteen
or nineteen, q fair-liaired, blue-eyed
girl, extremely pretty, with a slight,
yet, for her age, well proportional fig
uro.
Both. by their dress and bearing,
evidently belonged to superior class
Godfrey" the girl was saying.
seven. IL We were not so absurdly
young, there are SO many things to
render 1t impossible"
"Oh, we needn't get married for a
year or two" said the boy. "When I
am twcnty-one shall be q rich man."
"Oh! 1t Is no money question:" IN
swered the girl quickly. "As IL
should ever think Of that"
what is 1t then. Rosy2'
you cannot know your own mind
at twenty; few years hence you will
see some one you could have loved
better, and then we should both be
miserable"
Il shall never see any one that
can love as we'll as you, Rosy. I feel
quite sure of that; and il anything
were to happen to separate us should
never marry"
An elder who had heard this mere
boy with such words would have
smiled, yet he could not but have
been impressed by the intensity of
the conviction with which they were
spoken.
"You forget what I am, my birth,
Godfrey; do you suppose that your
uncle would ever consent to your mar
rage with nameless orphan that bis
wife had taken from the workhouseY
lie adopted you, reared you as his
own daughter, educated you as lady;
what objection can he offerr'
ROsamond shook her head; young as
she was, she had truer instincts In re-
gard to human nature than her com.
panion.
"a year hence I shall be my own
master. and not accountable to any
body" he replied, impetuously.
"But SHALL" she answered gravely.
"Oh, Godfrey! do you think could
fly in the face Of my dear benefactor,
who rescued me from misery and
who has been Q father to me?
As much as love you-and /
do love you, dear-I could not be I'm.
grateful to him; would rather de-"
| He pressed her hand and furtiyeiy
raised 1t to his lips. Then he was a.
lent for few moments.
"Rosy," he said presently, ~ never
quite understood your story. Would
you mind telling 1t to me, IL II would
not pain you"
"Oh, mop she answered, quickly;
II should like you to hear 1t. You will
then better understand my position
and your own. My earliest recollec-
tions are Of squalor and mystery that
you cannot conceive; Of living In some
wretched rooms almost destitute Of
furniture; Of my father coming home
In @ state of intoxication and beating
my mother-he never touched me; then
of wandering about the country beg
ging; Of sleeping in sheds or out In the
fields under hedges and haystacks. All
is confused, however, till one dreadful
night when my father dropped down
upon heap Of stones and said he was
dying and Josh-that is MY brother
sent me running of to ask for help.
l met man before I got to the vii
lage, and sobbed out my story to him,
apd remember he seemed to pity me
very much, and took me up in his arms
and was carrying me back when saw
Josh coming toward us; as soon as he
caught sight of me he called out that
father was dead. Then we were taken
back to the village, and slept for the
night in some clubhouse, and neEt
morning were taken OF to the work.
house. But Josh would not stop there,
1 aud ran away on the second day. ]
had not been In the workhouse mcFs