The Universalist. [volume] (Chicago [Ill.]) 1884-1897, 1895-12-28
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wedding the onions and husking the
peas"
ga cat may look at king, Cassp
said Miss Marietta, laughing in spite
of herself. MAY not Doctor Hartford
look at Miss CarstairsT'
"No," said Cassendra, with stamp
of the small cowhided foot-for she
had borrowed old Ben's farming
outfit for this occasion. "He may
not"
And then she took up lantern
and box of matches and went her
way, finging back kiss to the inva-
lid sister as she did so.
1t was nearly midnight when she
returned, flushed and radiant, her
hazel eyes shining, her breath COM
ing quick and fast. Miss Marietta,
who had fallen into ladylike doze
in front of the smoEdering logs,
started from her dream.
Goodness me, Cassytis that you7"
said she.
eyes" Classy was unbuttoning
the old coat and shaking her feet out
of the cowhide envelopes, now stain
ed with the mud of the swampy orch
ard land.
"Have you gathered the appless"
eyes. They're all in barrels, close
to the bars, ready for Israel Jones
when he comes along tomorrow
morning. Old Ben's nephew, astout
sailor lad just from sea, helped me
get them in. We broke the lantern,
but that didn't signify. There was a
moon, when the clouds parted enough
for us to get glimpse of it. The
apples ought to bring fair price;
they're in beautiful condition, And
what do you think, Marietta Jack
and l captured an apple thief-two
of 'em-coolly picking our fruit into
baskets, and they're safely padlocked
into the old ice-house nowW
ooh, Classy! thieves! Who are
they?"
"Well, naturally, they didn't offer
to give us their cards; and Jack Tar
and l walked them directly off into
the ice-house. led the biggest one
by his coat collar, and my sailor boy
hustled the little one along. 1 think
the little chap would have shown
fight but the big one shut him up"
Classy, you did thats"
81 and Jack Tar, whose read name,
| believe, is Bartholomew Clark.
Yes, we made the capture, unassisted
and alone, and Bartholomew is 60
ing to Squire Patton's to morrow to
have the scamps regularly commit
ed. Now, aren't you glad 1 went out
myself to gather the appless"
ooh, Classy, suppose they had had
fire arms? Suppose you had been
hurt7"
"Oh, suppose, supposed" gaily MINI
licked Cassandra. "But / wasn't
hurt, as it happened, and now let US
go to bed, Polly, for it's past twelve,
and I'm tired to DEATH"
Weary though she was, Cassandra
was up bright and early the next
morning to feed her spring chickens
and prepare her sisters breakfast, for
the Carstairs girls kept no servants,
and there was plenty to do. A sturdy
| young man with a sunburned face
stood at the gate.
"What do you want, Bartholomew"
said Classy, taking in the milkpan
from it's hook on the left-hand of the
door.
1.-THE constable's hero, miss. He
won't take no orders, except from
you"
"Where is he?"
waitin,' miss, out by the ice
house door,"
Cassandra caught her hat from its
peg under the kitchen clock shelf,
and walked in her quick, elastic way
by "Jack Tar's" side to the ancient
fastness built into the side hill, once
used for the reception of ice.
81 think, miss" said the thickset,
grizzle- bearded old village constable,
l'there's some mistake"
"Mistakep' echoed Cassandra, in
her clear voice; "but there can't be
any mistake. | saw them myself,
stealing my apples. Here's the key
of the ice house. I'm ready to lodge
complaint against them. Why,
Doctor Harfordl"
For as the constable opened the
creaking old door, out walked her
elegant next door neighbor, with an
inscrutable expression of counter
| ance.
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