Lawrence democrat. (Lawrenceburg, Tenn.) 1884-1925, 1896-03-06

where he could at least do as much as
he had been doing.
One gloomy Sunday afternoon two
months later, Tom Haydn stood leaning
against the fence trying to make up
his mind whether he wanted to take a
walk. Suddenly his eye was caught
by small package lying in the middle
of the road. Tom Haydn hailed it with
delight, for it was an incident, and in
cidents were rare in his uneventful
life on the farm. 1t proved to be a
roll of what might be manuscript. ad-
dressed to leading publishing firm in
a woman's hand. Tom specialized con-
sidcrably as to who in the neighbor-
hood might be aspiring to literary
honors, and turned it again and again
to see If he might learn the name of the
owner. But what did 1t matter? Xl
he had to do was TO mail it in the vii
lage on the morrow.
Why not open it and find out? She
need never know. 1t could be done up
securely again and sent off, and who
would be the wiser, except himself?
Tom caught his breath, and then TAX
ing his penknife he slit the cover from
end TO end without giving himself time
to repent the mental suggestion, only
to find himself foiled. There was no
clew whatever. The only thing was
what was evidently fictitious name
"David Copperfield." AS long as he had
opened it he might as well see what
kind of work this woman did, with her
masculine nom de plume.
"By Jove! l hope she gets it," he ex-
claimed aloud, as he turned the last
sheet "She deserves it, whoever she is.
May it do her good!"
"Ie was up awful late last night,
Jack, want YEP" remarked Aunt Kitty,
kindly, the next morning,
"Yes, rather" answered Tom, alb
sently
"Ben't we well? Was We sick? Ye
look pale 'smornin'."
81 don't feel very well to-day" and
he passed his hand YEARLY over his
forehead.
Better be keerful, Jack" said Aunt
Kitty, kindly. There's good many
fevers about now"
''Oh, it's nothing. Want anything at
tie village?"
Some cornmeal against hog-killin';
that's ALL"
"lm afraid ye're leetle late, Jack,
for this mornings mail" said the post
Naster, as Jack presented the package,
| securely tied again and addressed as
before.
"Oh, we'll; it'll do as well this after
noon," answered Tom. carelessly.
"Seems like pretty thick package.
Writin' in it?" The country postmaster
! considers it his right to question the
villagers about their correspondence
! ~ halienable one.
"Yes," answered Tom, shortly, hasti-
~ leaving the Office.
\ few minutes later he rushed in
again.
THAT package, Mr.. Grant, left here
u few moments ago. You said it was
too late"
THAT'S all right, Jack. le seemed
SO anxious l managed it fur We. Don't
you worry; it's gone all safe by this
| time"
Jack thanked his and turned on his
heel with sigh, muttering: ITS too
late now. Fate has taken the matter
out of my hands,
| Aunt Kitty Lawson would hardly
have recognized her tramp in the good
locking, wealthy and respected citizen
known as "Thomas Haydn, Esq, of DE
troit,' as he stood upon his doorstep
fitting his key to the latch. The past
ten years had been kind 70 him, and he
now possessed an ample fortune, a
charming wife, and two lovely children
Nh. Haydn, ST., had long ago forgiven
the youthful escapade, and life as Tom
had seen it for number of years left
him little to wish for.
But there had been mutterings and
mnrmurings of late, and pretty little