The Forest Republican. [volume] (Tionesta, Pa.) 1869-1952, 1896-05-13

he was born ugly an queer"
After that expostulated no more,
and dead silence fell between me and
Jane on the subject of her marriage.
Fry was q good deal about the house,
and could see from his brushed up
appearance that Jane had already be-
gun to take care of him. But it was
only his clothes were changed; the
lout was there under the clothes, and
wearing q sleek, self-satisfed appear
ance which made him in my eyes less
tolerable than ever.
Time went on, but we heard moth
ing of James marriage, from which !
concluded that, brave woman as she
was, she was glad of the "long day,
my lord" for which the poor con.
demned used to plead. I also con-
cluded that Fry was in no hurry, for
Jane was of the stuff not to shirk the
thing if it had TO be gone through
with. She kept up a great appearance
of cheerfulness, but l used to think
her Irish songs, as she went to and fro
at her work, had rather heart-brokeu
wall about them. For myself, / was
well content the marriage should be
postponed indefinitely. l had Vague
hope that something might happen in
time to prevent it, or what were all
James saints doing in their places in
HeavenP
Well, at last something happened,
and the something threatened poor
James peace of mind more than ever.
At church Jane made a new acquaint-
ance, a countryman of her own, a
clean-skinned, brawny, bright-eyed
fellow, with white teeth and q merry
laugh. He came from James own vii
lage, which was reason for his being
received on terms of intimacy. Jane
had him to tea in the kitchen one Sun
day afternoon, and passing the open
door on my way to the garden, saw
the party at tea, the inevitable Fry
sitting gazing at James new acquaint-
ance with a sIow-witted enjoyment Of
some recent pleasantly. l stopped to
say "Good evening"" and could not
help being struck by the difference
between the two men. The Irishman
sprang to his feet and bowed, display
ing u crown of fine, curly fair hair.
Fry grinued more hopelessly vacuous
than ever in answer to my greeting.
Time passed, and James new friend,
Willy OConnor, came and went as
freely as Fry himself. Whenever they
had an outing he made the proverbial
third person; but could not help
imagining that it was not the usual in.
vidious position. l was sure he made
those outings enjoyable, for he seemed
as capable as he was pleasant. He was
cabinet maker by trade, and by de.
grees all the invalided furniture Of the
house began to come back to active
service, quite restored in efficiency. ]
spoke to Jane about making her coun-
tryman some little recompense, but
my proposal was promptly negatived.
'Let the boy alone, m, said Jane.
"He likes to be employed and to make
himself handy. What would he do, he
says, in this big, desolate London, il
he hadn't the corner by the kitchen
fire to drop into for chat, an myself
and Peter for frien ds.
"Peter" was Fry. I had my doubts
about Peter being in any sense the
magnet; but Jane being sensible
person of thirty-three, l did not feel il
my duty to demonstrate with her over
the two strings to her bow rs should
have done with younger girl. I said
nothing, but waited upon events.
Six months passed, when all of q
sudden l missed Willy. Two or three
Sundays went by with lugubrious 81
lence in the kitchen where he had
made merriment. Then one evening,
aftor l heard Fry's slouching footsteps
crunch away down the gravel path, ]
rang the bell for Jane, and since she
failed to answer it, went to seek her
in the kitchen.
When opened the kitchen door,
there was my poor Jane with her face
down ON the kitchen table, her cap
awry, her hair disheveled, and her
square shoulders shaken with sobs.
'What is it, Jane?" cried in,alarm,
Jano lifted up a distorted, tear
stained visage, and tried vainly to set
her cap straight and dab away hel
tears.
"Are you in trouble, JaneP" i
asked again. tPlease tell me, and I'll
see if we can't put it straight"
My affection for Jane is u genuine
thing, as hers is for mo. put hand
on each shoulder as spoke, and sud
denly Jane caught my hands and
roughly kissed them, relapsing into
tears as she did SO.
"My troubles of my own making, "
she said, "and I'll have to abide by it.
No one can do anything to help me,
and the sooner it's through the better.
/ was called this morning, an
Thursday, the holiday. Next Sunday
I'll be called for the last time, and
I'm to be married the following
Wednesday. 1 won't inconvenience
you, ma'am, for I'll stay till you're
suited. Peter'll get along we'll enough
till I'm ready to leave"
"But it's very sudden, Jane"
"The sooner it's done the sooner it's
over. 1t would have been better il
I'd done 1t six months ago"
"Jane," 1 said very softly, sis il
Willy?"
She flushed q dark crimson and,
hinging her apron over her head, be-
gan rocking herself to and fro. l had
need of no other answer. waited