Montpelier examiner. [volume] (Montpelier, Idaho) 1895-1937, 1896-03-28
HOW IT ALL HAPPENED.
BY ESTHER sERLE KENNETH.

1t was dull at the Tamaracks, the great
house and wide acres of grassland be-
longing to Phebe's grandfather, old
Squire Rane. Thrifty Jimmy would set
the house In order by 9 o'clock and re-
tire to her bedroom adjoining the kitch-
en- to braid straw, after which there
would be no sound on the premises for
hours. The midday lunch would be
eaten as In dream, supper appear by
enchantment so, without hustle of life
were the quiet days at the Tamaracks.
The squire was old and did not like a
noise, and old Jimmy was used to his
WAYS. 1t seemed to 18-year-old Phebe
sometimes that the rust of this life was
eating into her very soul. She had come
from New York an orphan, two years
before, and, because her grandfather
graciously gave her home, had earnest
ly sought to adopt herself to the ways
of the house.
Yet, but for the garden she would have
died. The garden was beautiful, with
It's lowering shrubbery, and rank vines
of rose, woodbine and trumpet-Aower.
The beds she could do as she chose
with, the squire said SO she had border
ed them with pinks, and set them full of
verbenas and geraniums.
She had a triangle of hearts ease and
circle of English violets, and there was
little arbor, covered with blue wiste-
ria, wherein she sat to sew, and wherein
she had made her grandfather whole
set of fine shirts.
But the shirts were done, the gerani-
ums and heart's-ease cultivated to the
last degree of perfection, and the Au-
gust days began to seem interminable to
Phebe.
She put tile yellow old sitting room in
order, and then sat down idly in 1t until
she was almost crazy. She went to
walk along the bosky roads, and believed
she could hear the trees growing in the
stiffness She read the entire volume Of
| Watts hymns and wrote letters to all
her old school friends. Then 1t seemed
as If something must happen, or she
should commit some desperate act.
Pretty little Phebel She looked as
forlorn as she felt, sitting In corner Of
a big, high yellow damask arm
chair, her slender, slippered feet ON a
quaint, round foot-stool, her piquant
face in the shadow of her fair, ripping
I hair-all In "love-locks"-her cherry
mouth dropped at the corners.
And the weather was bad enough tc
be to blame for half of it-br~zen, no
days, fortnight of them, with not {
drop of rain. No wonder she was ner
vous and sad.
But while pretty Phebe sat adroop II
the big yellow armchair, there was q
change in the arid sky. Dark clouds
came up from the west, and a restless
wind began to stir the woodbine abou
the easement. j..
Phebe lifted herself with a brighte
look, as the drops began to patter dowr
the drops of hurrying shower.
It began to pelt the garden with
good will, while thunder rolled omni
ously, and lightning's "tremendou'
skeins" grew broader, until It's glare fill
ed the yellow sitting-room painfully
from time to time.
But Phebe was not nervous or timid
borrowed no trouble or fear, and finally
the tumult of the shower abated. The
woodbine, bright, green, and glowing
again, seemed trying to shake little
murmur of thankfulness from among
its multitude of leaves, while there float
ed up such an incense from the garden
that a look of pleasure dawned In
Phebe's eyes, bringing back their blue
Suddenly, on the wide hall stairs, was
heard the tramp, tramp of heavy feet
and, as the young girl started up In sur.
prise, two men entered and laid lifelese
form at her feet.
Something had happened with ven.
geance.
The two laborers who had borne this
burden stepped back silently. Squire
Rane's field hands, though ignorant
enough, were not without feeling, and
the calm white face, without life or mo-
ton. save for the pleasant breeze stir
ring the ebon curls on the white fore
head, was sad enough.
"He's young, isn't her" whispered one
of the men, at last, "But l guess he's
done for fast enough. Here comes the
SQUIRE
Phebe, in her terror, had been listen
ing to her grandfather's slow. feeble
step upon the stairs. She ran to him.
"Whatl you here, child2" he cried
"Run and call old jimmy! Strip him
men, and rub him-both of you! There's
life in him yet Phebe, send Dick, like
wild-fire after the doctorp
So the old man, who had been very
smart in his day, set theservants at work
upon the stranger. But in vain they es
saved to restore life to that motionlest
form.
The doctor came and shook his he &C
All was over, he said. Doctor Henry
Richmond. 80 years of age, resident
physician of a neighboring town, ha'
too surely met death by his horse, ter
rified at the lightning, Precipitating hi
carriage over bank into the rocky be-
of the river, which, in the summer heats