Catoctin clarion. [volume] (Mechanicstown, Md.) 1871-1940, 1896-07-30

of the vicinity, aud rambles when the
moon was doing her best to make man
kind believe that nothing in the world
vas worth considering but sentiment,
such pleasing diversions filled many
an hour. Sometimes paused to con-
slider how completely the girl was DOM
mating my thoughts. Even when a
glimpse of Hiram Jones going stolidly
about his business reminded me of the
uncertainty of my position, found
myself specializing more about what
she might think, if the worst came to
pass, than about the extent of the mis-
fortune over Lamar's head, and posi-
bly, over mine as well. On shipboard
we had been very good friends, she and
I. We were very good friends now,
but with q difference. What u dull
ride ! had if she declined to accom-
pany me! how the evening dragged if
she kept out of sight! what wretched
substitute for her presence was even
the best pipe in my growing collcc-
together, even if our talk languished,
the time never passed heavily? How
had it come about that no longer de-
bated the question of her beauty, no
longer compared her with this girl or
that? Such questions l asked myself
now and then, puzzling my brain with
endcavors to answer them in any other
way than the one in which they could
be answered. The simple truth of the
matter was, of course, that had fallen
in love; but for difficulty of compre-
hcnsinn commend me, above all things,
to u so-called simple truth. Anybody,
if he will take the trouble, can follow
out long and logical deduction, but to
very few men is it given to perceive at
once the meaning of the thing which,
once understood, we call self-evident.
From the vantage-point of later years
have figured out, to my own satisfac-
ton Mt least, that l passed from the
comparatively placid state OF 'riend-
ship about two weeks after Dorothy
Gray's arrival in Rodneytown. The
rcalizat ion of the change came nearly
a fortnight later, not through any tri-
umph of reason, but through an acct
dent in which my part was that of 4
mere spectator, and which required less
time in action than it does in telling.
Returning one morning from the house
on the knoll, sought the young lady.
as l usually sought her at that hour.
DR.. Banks had asked me to look out
for two or three of his more distant
patients--he had sprained his right
arm badly and was keeping as quiet as
possible-and that day had planned
long drive, which it was probable She
would enjoy. She was not in the house,
Mrs. Clark said, and l was gazing about
rather disconsolately, when l caught
sight Of Il parasol showing above the
walls of a lane leading to IN orchard,
in the shade Of which Miss Gray some
times passed morning. Setting out
in pursuit, l gained upon her SO rapidly
that when / turned into the lane she
was not more than hundred yards
in the lead. To my surprise she halted,
then turned with a cry, and, picking up
her skirts, began to sCud toward me,
in full flight, Us l saw an instant later,
from an old and evil-tempered boar,
usually safely penned behind Mrs.
Clark's barn, but evidently very much
at liberty ut that particular moment.
The brute was close to her His tusks
looked rs long and sharp as knives; as
he galloped on, they came nearer and
nearer to his prey. Igave shout and
sprang forward, but had she been forced
to depend upon my aid her danger
would have been great indeed. for long
before I could have reached her the
boar would have overtaken her. He
was right at her heels, when, armed