Semi-weekly independent. (Plymouth, Marshall County, Ind.) 1895-1897, 1896-01-29

SdIeTy lOT lne nlSnt, sue WOulu ASH
him. eagerly:
How about Tom? Will he be coming
home tonight" And Dunkley would
say. with a kindly gravity that did
credit to his feelings:
NO, lass, no. Tom must stay to-
night TO take care of the show
But you'll not keep him tomorrow
night. Mr.. Dunkley. sir-youll not keep
tomorrow
NAY, lass. I'll not keep him to-mor-
row."
For thirty years had this same dia-
logue taken place on each of the three
nights of Minchstead Bartlemy fair.
Daft Bets story was 4 sufficiently sad
one. In the year 1855, a bride of six
weeks standing. she had lost her hus-
band in the following tragic way:
Dunkley, one of whose assistants had
been unexpectedly laid up. had engaged
Tom Pitcher, Il resident Of Minchstead,
10 help him with his shooting gallery
during the three days Of the fair. To-
ward evening. on the last of the three
days. something went wrong with n
of the running rabbits, and Tom crepT
into the jungle to put the thing in or
der. The shooting was stopped whilc
he did SO, but the gallery vas very full
just then; there was great confusion
and crowdinG among the would-be
marksmen, and somehow one Of the
attendants did not observe that Tom
Pitcher was in the jungle, for he was
STOPPING very low and was hidden by
the artificial grass and rushes. The at
tendanthandedaload gun to a gentle
man who stretched out his hand for il.
The latter, also never seeing Tom, took
aim at one of the rabbits in the grass.
and-before he could be stopped-fired.
There came Il sharp cry from the
jungle. followed by an ominous groan.
Dunkley sprang Crcr the barrier and
rushed forward. He found poor Tom
Pitcher huddled upon the ground, just
breathing his last. An ugly wound in
the forehead showed where the ball had
penetrated.
Everybody present was horror-strick-
en- by this tragical accident. The gen
tlcman who had fired the shot. especial
ly. was in Il perfect agony Of distress.
But the affair was rendered Sadder still
by what followed. Toms young wife.
who had come there To walk home with
him, was actually waiting for him ar
the entrance ut the time when the acct
lent occurred. Some excited and
thOughtless witness of the catastrophe
went out and old her-nevcr attempt
ing 10 break it gently, or in any way
to prepare the % girl for the shock.
She ran wildly in. She forced her way
through the crowd TO her dead husband.
She threw herself upon his body. with
Il terrible wall. When she ut length
raised her eyes from the dead they were
fixed and strange. The light of reason
was gone from them. 1t never returned.
This is how it was that cver after
ward, during the Minchstead Bartlemy
fair, YOU would find her at the door of
Dunkley's gallery waiting for Tom;
never quitting her post, never grow
ing weary. always receiving with pa
tient acQuiescence Dunkley's intima-
ton that Tom could not be spared from
the show that night, and buoying her
self Up with the promise that he would
surely be allowed to come with her to-
morrow.
The gentleman who had fired the
fatal shot made what amends were
possible TO this afflicted creature. He
called upon the vicar of the parish and
arranged to pay the widow, through
him, n sufficient weekly allowance 10
keep her in comfort for her life. or
surprising such q course should be held
neccSSary-tO defray the cost of her
maintenance in Il good private asylum.
| The former course was adopted, for the
doctors pronounced her quite harmless,
and declared that there was no reason
for shutting her up. And so poor Daft
Bet lived on in Minchstead for thirty
years. pitied and kindly used by all;
not unhappy, never complaining, but
supported from first to last by her mer-
ciful delusion. and always confident
that she should see her TOm-tO-mOr-
row.
1t was exactly thirty years after the
fatal accident-in the August of 1855
that a party of young fellows who had
come over with n cricket team to play
a match against the famous Minchstead
Club strolled down to the fair i'm the
! evening on the lookout for n little
amusement. Some betook themselves
to one show, some to another. Three or
four went into Dunkley's world-re-
nowned shooting gallery. One of them,
Il goOd-loOking, merry young fellow OF
| about 20, seemed to attract Daft Bets
attention as lie went by. for she sudden
ly fixed her great, hollow eyes upon
him and followed him into tho gallery
with an eager glance. By and by she
went up to the d~oorkeeper.
"Just let me i'm. / want to speak to
TOm," she said, coaXingly.
Nay, Bet" said the man. with more
kindness than might have been expect
ed from his rough appearance. You
cannot come in now, lass. Toms