Smyrna times., 1896-08-19
A SHARP DODGE.
BY FLORENCE B. HALLowELL.

Cool and clear the morning was; the
birds sang and twittered in the
branches of the trees; a gentle breeze
waited the scent of the June roses in at
the open windows, and Lydia Grey,
feeling singularly happy and content
with life, went singing down stairs
and into the kitchen, where her mother
sat by the table, peeling potatoes for
breakfast.
Mrs. Grey did not speak as her
daughter entered, and Lydia, made
wise experience, saw by the expression
of her face that a storm was coming.
The girl continued to sing, however,
feeling prepared to meet the blast, no
matter how severe it might be.
Mrs. Grey waited until the break
fast was on the table before she uttered
a word. Then, as she took her seat
behind the cOffee-pot, she asked,
sharply:
Lydia, did see you hanging over
the front gate at II o'clock last night,
with John Forsythe?"
81 don't know, mother" answered
Lydia, calmly. ''You might have
seen me, though, if you looked. was
there"
"And not ashamed to confess it,
s'pOse?"
''Not at all ashamed to confess it, >
said Lydia.
eff you suppose that I'll ever give
my consent to you marrying John For
sythe, you're mistaken" said Mrs
Grey, "and the sooner you send him
packing, the better I'll be pleased
The man who marries you must be able
to give you as good home as this
You shan't throw yourself away on {
poverty stricken district school teacher
if can help it. I'll allow he's good
looking, but good looks won't make
the pot boil"
Lydia's face flushed.
John is an orphan" she said, ''anC
has had his own way to make. homo
him for his struggles to get an edu
cation. He may not have any money
but he's worth more in my eyes thai
any other man I've ever seen, and sh
buttered hot roll with considerable
energy.
''Seems to me you stand up for hin
pretty earnest" said the the widow
with a grim smile. "But L don
calc'late you're quite so foolish as t
throw Seth Naylor over just yet"
Seth Naylor!" calculated Lydia, i
tone of contempt. 81 let him kno1
my mind, long agor"
"But you could get him back easy,
said Mrs. Grey. He'd need only
word to make him come flying owe
here. He's sensible and shrewC
and you might go further and far
worse"
Perhaps" said Lydia.
"And it do strike me-" said th
widow, ''that man who goes abor
filling his pockets with stones and dir
and lies for hours on a rock, staring 6
it, must have a soft spot in his hea
somewhere.
John is intensely interested in or,
and minerals, said Lydia, land if l
finds pleasure in examining rocks an
picking up stones, why should we ol
iect? 1t is harmless amusement"
can imbecile amusement" sa
Mrs. Grey. 'I wonder at a girl
your sense uphOlding sech folly. Bl
it's plain to be seen that he's turnt
: your head with that big moustache
. his. You ought to be thankful tn
you've got a mother to look out f,
you. You'll never marry Jol
FOrsythe with my consent"
: perhaps not. said Lydia, risil
from the table; land I'll never mar
Seth Naylor with my own"
: "We'll see about that" said Il
> widow, as she took the skinner al
big pail and started for the dairy.
expect to see you the mistress
Cloverstop Farm yet
Lydia smiled to herself, thinkil
how unlikely it was that such a thin
would ever come to pass. She Low
John Forsythe too well to give sing
thought to marrying any other ma
Y And Seth Naylor, rough, uned
Gated fellow who was thoroughly u
cOngenial to her-what a contrast
y was to Johnl
The hanging over the front gate co
tinued to be of nightly occurrence,
8 spite of the wrath and chagrin OF Nj
-e Grey, who appealed in vain to I,ydii
,e sense of decorum.
''I've grown callous to what the DC
pie of this neighborhood say, mother
2 answered Lydia. ''They can talk
they choose. It is too warm to sit i
doors these June evenings, even if v
would let me entertain j ohm in the D,
lor, which you will not. And Il
gate was made to hang on.
n "Hang away, then, said Mrs. CIR,
% "But you shan't marry John Forsyt
if I can help it. Why, he wa
ed the hull O. last Saturday, DC
:. ing around my three-acre medder
% with spade. l guess he got busl
o'stones. He'd oughter hire out
clean land"
4. Lydia said nothing in reply to tb
: but peculiar smile, which her mott
could not understand, stole over
az face.
~ Early on Saturday morning,
e. days later, John Forsythe walked
to the dairy. where Mrs Grav =