Courier Democrat. (Langdon, N.D.) 1891-1920, 1896-12-10
WAITING FOR 4 FARM.

the village inn of the latter one even
ing after it was closed to outsiders
smoking their pipes Of peace and
friendship, us was their wont.
1t was a plain country inn. where
you could buy almost anything, but II
mentS since the increase Of population
and the times demanded it.
Steve Hall had inherited 1t from his
father, and, having come into posses.
sion year before. married the girl he
loved and settled down. which happy
course of action he was constantly
urging uDon his old friend, Jim Ran
dali.
III you love EN- we'll enough to have
her, why don't you marry at once, in
stead of spending your best years In
counting and waiting?" asked Steve of
his friend.
ooh, can't afford it," answered Jim,
stopping to knock the ashes from his
pipe. Ems good girl, and has prom
Used to have me: but told her she, or
rather we, must wait until could see
my way clear to support q family"
what did she say to that?" inquired
Steve, with curious expression on his
face.
she said. Of course. we couldn'e ex-
pect TO marry at once-you see, that
was five years ago-and she was will
ing to wait, but didn't want me to
think she cared for the money. To be
with me poor would be happiness
enough for hcr, and so on. You know
how girls always talk under those cir
cumstances."
Eyes, and 1 know Emma Willis al
ways means what she says. Jim, If
you had married her four years ago
you would have been rich man
uow."
"A rich man! How?"
"Well, to tell the truth. see good
many signs of neglect about your
farm, which know would never exist
where Emma Willis lived"
Jim colored OF this intimation of his
Incidence, and answered stifly:
"Well, when it's all my own, I'll take
more pains with the old place, and
marry EN- in the bargain"
Don't wait for that, old boy. Do
both right away, and, my word for it,
you'll never be sorry"
These words rang in Jim Randall's
ears as he walked back in the star
light to the only home he had known
since he was boy.
Here he had lived with his grand
father and the old housekeeper ever
since his first going to school, then
assisting in the care of the farm until
the whole charge gradually fell upon
him. But he never took much interest
in tit was too much like working
for nothing.
'Wait until it is my own" he would
say to himself; ''then you'll see some
thing worth looking at" For Jim was
his grandfather's expected heir, and
some day. not far off, perhaps, these
acres would be in his possession. Then
he would bring his wife here and fix
up the old place and show folks what
he could do. But now he might as
we'll take the world easy and not work
himself to death for his board and
clothes.
Thus he had always reasoned. until
tonight he began to wonder whether
he hadn't done wrong.
Wife, said Steve Hall that night.
Il do believe Jim will live on and on
in the old place until the old man dies,
before he will better himself. He has
fallen in this careless indolent way Of
letting things go, until it wouldn't sur
prise me to hear that En- herself had
slipped away from him."
ut is a shame" rejoined Mrs. Hall
girl as Emma Willis waste the best
man. I declare I'd marry somebody
else just in spite"
mo, you wouldn't, my dear. But it
is TOGO true that Jim doesn't seem to
know what he's waiting for. Il can't
see that his prospects improyn&t ALL"
"They may before long. for old Mr..
Randall has seemed unusually feeble
lately"
Even as he spoke, Jim Randall was
trying to rouse the old ran from sleep
in tho big chair, where he was sur
priscd to find his grandfather at this
late hour But in vain. No earthly
power could arouse the old farmer
from the sleep that had come upon
him alone and unexpected. So the
news later spread throughout the
town. and few days later they laid
him by the side Of the companion Of
his youth. who had gone years before.
Then Jim Randall felt desolate
enough, and his only comfort was in
the thought that the farm was now
his. and he could do as he pleased.
The relatives assembled after the
funeral to hear the will read, which
seemed a mere matter of form to most
of them, as Jim's expectations were
shared by all.
After several small requests the
lawyer read the astounding passage:
lin consequence of the apparent dis
like Of my grandson, James Randall,
to the pursuit of agriculture, I hereby
give and bequeath my farm, consisting
of twenty-five acres, with the house
and outbuildings thereon. to my broth
er, William Itardall. and to my grand
son, James Randall. the sum of 1000
pounds sterling. 70 be paid enc month
after my decease."
Everybody in the room sat stupe6ed
until the lawyer commenced rolling UP
the parchment which had brought such
confusion in the camp. Then general
movement took place. and the less tor
tulIate legatees took their leave.
William Randall came up to James,
and taking him by the hand, said:
This was entirely unexpected and
undcsired by me. l supposed. and had
re-, tel, hat III L