The citizen. (Frederick City, Md.) 1895-1923, 1897-01-22
HER SWEET APPLES.
BY C. ID. q. ROBERTS

Autumn was just beginning to reveal
herself in the heart of South mountain,
the gorgeous autumn of western Nova
Scotia. 1t was about eight o'clock in the
morning, and the air that strcamed
lightly over the shoulders of the hills
had most bracing SAVIOR. Mrs. Buckler,
q freckled but comely and tall young
woman, was just setting out for a
twelve-mile tramp 10 the little settle
ment in the valley, where she had to
return fiatiron and pair of wool
cards which she had borrowed of an
obliging neighbor.
Ncighbors in those days were few and
far between in the country districts of
Nova Scotia. The great emptiness
created by the expulsion of the Acad-
ians had not yet been filled up. For the
neighbors, it behooved them TO be
neighborly.
Mrs. Bucklcr was an untiring worker,
and her rare visits to the valley consti-
tuted her only holiday. She had to
walk, of course, as her husband had
no horse, and she had no ambition to
ride one of the faithful but extremely
deliberate oxen. And, indeed, matter
OF twelve miles seemed nothing of con-
sequence to her.
"Be sure and get back before dark,
'Miryl" admonished her husband, lean
Ing meditatively against the woodpie
as he watched her kiss the children for
good-by.
"Shooh! Steve, reckon you can put
the babies to bed all right for once,
can't you? 1t amt often get off, and
when l do, | like to make good day of
It'll"
at amt lookin' after the children
that I'm thinking of, 'Miry, as you know
right WE'LL" replied Steve Buckler,
earnestly. "But you know how thick
the bears are on the mountain this
year; and there is no manner of doubt
that was wolf brushed by me in the
pasture night before last. II amt safe
;or you to be coming up through the
woods after dark all alone that way
Etay all night, if you find it getting
late!"
"Oh, l amt afraid" ayerred Mrs.
Buckler, stoutly. II may get back
rfore dark; but if don't I'll be careful
and carry light with me-"
These confident words she flung
back over her shoulder, as she started
gayly down the rough woodland way
Arriving in due time at the settle
ment in the valley. she did her errands,
picked up the news, and richly enjoyed
the rare luxury of gossip. Time went
all too quickly; and it was on the edge
Of dark ere she thought of starting for
home. Then, of course, there were We
hement protests. Her friends urged
her to stay all night, picturing the per-
lis of the journey, and representing that
her husband would never dream of ex-
pecting her. But Mrs. Buckler, as her
friends always said. was very "set."
Putting aside all arguments, she started
out on her long and lonely tramp.
She had little to carry, but that little
was somewhat troublesome to manage.
Il was an apronful of sweet apples for
the children, treat which she knew
they would enjoy. Sweet apples were
then rarity in South mountain.
When at length Mrs. Buckler reached
the last house on the edge of the val
ley, and found herself face to face with
the long climb up the mountain she
felt compelled to acknowledge in her
heart that the night was very dark.
And she had yet nearly four miles to go,
through almost unbroken woods. In
those four miles there were but two
cabins to break the monotony of the
way; and the further of these was
mile and half from her home. She
hesitated moment, then went into the
house and asked for pine knot to light
her on her journey.
Here again she was urged to stay;
hut lighting her torch she set her face
resolutely to the mountain side. AS
she penetrated among the ancient trees
the unsteady light of the pine knot cast
strangely moving shadows. and mon
ptrous shapes seemed to spring up and
disappear on all sides. For the first
time she grew nervous, and felt an in
clination to glance over her shoulder.
This she presently conquered with
some scorn. Nevertheless, she could
not help Fastening her steps; and the
first cabin in the mountain had the air
ofta refuge to her, as she turned in to
get fresh pine knot.
Here, too, she was strongly pressed
TO end her journey for the night But
now her obstinacy was well aroused.
Ehe was nettled at herself for having
felt afraid. 1t was with something Of
the air Of one who goes forth 10 battle
that she gripped her torch and clutched
her apron OF sweet apples, as she turned
again to the blael1ness of the forest
path.
Between this cabin and the next the
distance was but half a mile. Her
nerves were now getting so well steadied
that she no longer cared for the loom
ing and shifting shadows, till at length
q shadow distinctly smaller than the
rest made the underbrush rustic audibly
with its motion. Her heart gave a
most uncomfortable leap, and she
stradghtway thought of the wolf which
her husband had spoken of. But. wolf
or shadow, It fed away without mepac-