Daily Kennebec journal., 1896-01-24

callen thc ostler and helped him rub
the cob down, loosening the girths and
rinsing the mouth.
Somebody gave him hat which he
put on half consciously; and then he
called for ale, drank a pint and poured
a pint down the cob's throat.
He done it in half an hour. Sevor
mile," he said, looking hard at the cob.
"a rare good goer, guvner," the
ostler returned, patting and smoothing
the animals frm-set neck, and rare
good un to stay. But you've took it
all out of en-; there amt 'alf kick in
all his four legs"
Adams looked thoughtfully at the
cob, considering how much go was left
in him, and then, taking parcel the
doctors man had brought him, fixed it
to the saddle, feed the ostler and led
the horse briskly away, walking him
down the street, over the bridge and up
the hill before he mounted and trotted
along the level, slowly at first, and then
more quickly through the cooling dusk,
and dewy scents of field and hedgerow
Hundreds of years seemed to have
| passed since he started in the evening
sunshine on that mad, break-nccl1 gal
lop, spurred by agonies of fear.
lie fell to thinking over all that had
passed Since he went forth in the morn
ing dew that day, bent upon getting that
last grass crop, over-ripe as IL was for
lack of hands to save it, mown. There
J were still some acres to cart; the hands
could go on to the carting when the
dew was fully dried; in the meantime a
| quarter of the heavy grass at least
might be down-the whole must be
down before dewfall, and those acres Of
well-made hay carted besides. To NOW
one field and cart the other-that had
seemed the whole aim and problem Of
| existence in the morning. And Annie
to worry him with her petty wants just
then! He had flung off with snarl,
when she raised herself from the pillow
on one arm and called after him as he
was leaving the room, only half awake,
his heavy eyes full of sleep. Money!
Women were always wanting money
at the wrong time. What if James
wages were a week overdue? She
could wait: but that heavy, ovcr-ripe
grass could not. Give Annie the key to
his strong box to get it? A likely
matter. And the weed that had got
into the COWS pasture to be seen to be-
sides. Why hadn't Annie told him Of
the taste in the butter before? Who
but woman would wait till that morn-
ing over breakfast to mention it? Who
wouldn't have sworn?
Those acres of rich waving grass, stiff
against the scythes, and that invidious
weed in the pasture seemed of small
moment now. The whole dairy and
the years hay had better have gone
before that evenings tragedy took
place.
They had been married ten months
and it had not troubled Stephen to see
Annie's rounded cheek sharpen and
pale and the corners of her young red
mouth droop: it was only nature, he
thought. And If she was found crying
at times, why it was the way of young
wive, on the road to motherhood; so he
was told. These woman'S troubles had
to be borne; what else were women
made for? To be borne quietly, with
out troubling men. Wives must not be
spoiled. Men had troubles enough out
of doors; they wanted peace at home.
SO he thought in the morning-but
now his thoughts were changed.
In spite of his moroseness and evil
temper, he had been a happy man in
the beginning of that day. What |
would he not give now to drag himself |
from sound sleep in the morning cool
ness, and drowsily dress and hurry
forth, to be called back by Annie? To
be standing in the mowers rank at
midday with streaming face, sweeping
the long bright scythe through the |
stiff thick grass-to be lying, face down |
ward, beneath the hedgerow oak in n |
pleasant doze, hushed by the faint rus |
tie in the cool green canopy above
half dreaming, half thinking of happy |
things-of heavy hay crops. nearly |
saved, of glorious weather and conse- |
quent coming on of blossomed wheat. |
Pumping ont of heavy ears OF barley |
and filling of oat-huslis, as well as of |
the lucky chance that the child was
not to be born till harvest was done, the |
dairy work lighter and autumn leisure |
at hand. 1t would not do to have An
ME upstairs in harvest or having time,
with twenty cows in milk. She would
get through good summers work
Arst, and by next summer tho boy
would be grown to n ylavthing good to
toss. OF course it would be boy.
stephen" he heard, continually,
above the cob's trot on the dusty high
road, do listen, Stephen. Indeed, it's
particular. Of all things he hated
complaining woman; and the querulous
tone of Annie's voice irritated him. lie
knew that he was not good-tempered,
was ungracious, taciturn, irritable.
Annie should have known it too, and
forborne to worry him. A whole day
often passed without word from him;
he meant no harm; he hated senseless
chatter; she knew it was only his way.
Yet he promised his conscience that if
Annie were but spared, he would be
kinder, more sociable, gentler for ever
after. Ii.
He turned sick, and pressed his heels
into the tired horses side. The possi-
billty was infinitesimal. The cob
quiekened his weary trot; Stephen
thought he might be too late
The foil0r'S SOO 1yac ctill a+ tho ,x-;n |