The Ohio Democrat. (Logan, O. [Ohio]) 1886-1906, 1896-07-28
THE wANDERER.

the dyke. AT the fringe OF tne SiVuu
there WAS q star.
A stile had been fixed at the turning
OF the road. II had three bars and O
step to cross by. On either side the
hedge grew thlckly; and there also two
trees, like guardians, gaunt In the hor-
rid light. SO the stile was picturesque.
But It had It's uses. On the further
side there stretched path across the
meadow; It led to the old house that
had stood among the beech trees
through generations. From the stile
you could see the turrets above the tree
tops. The inheritor of the name OF
Dalrymple, the Squire, lived there II
you followed the road you would also
come to the Hall, and enter by the
great gate. But the pathway was near
er by far.
On the side of the pathway, in the
angle where II Joined the stile, there
lay pond. In the district thereabouts
II was looked on as place of i'll omen.
and back to a time out of mind the
children OF Dalrymple had passed 1t at
nightfall with speedy steps and eyes
aslant. Yet not to folk learned in lore,
but to the weirdness of the place itself.
should you GO for the reason. The
trees grew close to the centre, where
the banks were widest. II stranger
should take stone and hurl 1t to that
point he would get In return tone SO
deep and resonant as we'll might make
him wonder. Now the trunks creaked
and whined, and the wind whistled in
the branches. And the shadows were
black on the pond.
A man was seated on the stile. His
back was to the road and his eyes were
fixed upon the turret tops above the
trees. He had come upon Journey;
you could tell 1t from his boots. He
was hungry; you could tell 1t from his
eyes. Such man, indeed, as one
would pass upon the further side of the
road, and be glad to get rid OF toward
evening. What hangs to the feet one
vaguely calls "boots;" with him It was
scraps of leather. And how thin he
was! Through the rents in his gar
ments there peeped out angles so sharp
that the coolest, IL he saw them, could
scarcely withhold his pity. At the
points they were lacerated by thorns,
but the blood had CONCEALED and lay
matted thickly with the dust OF travel
His hands were like claws. Long, sim
ewy. toil-stained. they protruded
shamefully from his rags, and, clutch
Ing the rail upon either side, kept him
fixed on his narrow perch.
There is a penury that chills tho
blood. II was In the face of that man.
Coarse, tangled, thickly clotted with
dust, his hair hung loose and rank up
on his shoulders. A scanty growth OF
unkempt beard streaked and tinged
with gray, bristled from the lower por-
tions of his face. as weeds grow sparse
ly on the arid soil. His cheeks were SO
hollow that the bones above stuck out
like the knuckles on a mans clenched
fist. The color of his skin had come,
through time and samencss of treat
ment, to accord with the dull, coarse
brown OF his hair and his clothes. His
eyes, lustre)ess. deep sunk in the SOCK
cts, stained at the margins with blood,
weary, Wild, gazed at the turrets OF the
Hall. I have seen such look upon
the face Of starving dog.
The wind walled In the branches, and
the clouds massed In the west, but the
man sat still upon the stile. But when
those who were hurrying from the
storm come by, he moved to let them
pass: yet ever he dropped upon the side
that was furthest from the Hall. Such
as were women eyed him askance, and
such as were men with wonder. But
not soul passed him salutation. So
the man remained, and the birds cried
out for the storm. Then two maids re-
turning to the Hall came to the stile,
and tossed their heads, resenting that
he should soil with his clothes the rail
which their skirts must touch.
Yet the stile was his own. Nor the
stile alone; but the grass at his feet,
and the great house at the end OF the
pathway, and, the broad acres that
pressed II round. There was warmth
and good cheer at the house. Still the
man moved not. Had the journey been
long, and did he llnger to rest at the
stile? Or did he walt there for some
one who tarried?
Then there came the prattle of chif-
dren's voices in the road. They bab-
bled merrily as their nurse pressed
them on from the storm. And they
passed the man by. Then their voices
ceased. and their feet sped faster still,
and many frightened glance they cast
behind them as they walked, and hur-
ried again. So they needed not the
pond. But the man watched them won
deringly. And he saw q laborer ap-
proach along the pathway. returning
from his work. The pipe he smoked
glowed warmly. and the man shivered.
But at the stile he spoke to the laborer:
and his voice was boarse. as one that
is seldom used.
What children are those?" he asked
The workman stopped abruptly ana
looked at the man In surprise. He
wondered at the questioner, / doubt !
not. and. may be. he wondered at the
question.
"Them?" he said.' at last, In a strong,
broad accept. "Them's the SquIre's
BARNS"
But I thought that the Squire was
an old man?"
"T'owd Squire? Why. bless youk
life. 'e's been dead this ten year"
There was pause. And then the |
man said: $50 these are the children OF |
his eldest son?'
"Noa," said the workman, ut Wilma |
be the eldest e wanted is brothers
gal, and cos she would a nowt to sny
to i'm g went away T. sulks And o |
never come back no more. aye. that
was twenty year ago"
"Aad what became OF him7"
AYE. bless your life ow should |
know? 'E's dead. they say"
Watch the Chestnut crafts.