Herald and news. [volume] (West Randolph, Vt.) 1878-1943, 1898-06-16

and he bore it, as he had the first, with
no outward sign of suffering. The
townspeople, who were not used TO
thinking of him as man with desires
and feeling of his own, but as very
pleasant convenience for themselves,
were greatly relieved. 'Lias might
jest as well make up his mind to be an
old BACH" they would Aay. jokingly;
hes jest cut out for one"
But Elias had not made up his mind
to that yet. Beneath the lazy indiffer-
ence of his manner were vague hopes
and desires that he himself scarcely
realized. More than anything else. he
wanted home of his own, with wife
and children. His mothers trim little
house was TO him an ideal home, and he
knew he meant it always to be his. So.
with the wife and children of his
dreams, life would be perfect-just
happy, drifting along the stream of
contentment. He was not ready to
give up this hope yet, although fate had
seemed TO work against it.
Several years later a city girl came
20 pass the summer months with Mrs.
Warner, his nearest neighbor. She
loved conquest and admiration, and she
selected Elias as the most amusing and
convenient material at hand. He was
dazzled by her pretty, laughing ways.
and dainty gowns. He thought she
must love him very much when she
promised, not only to marry him, but to
come and live in this quiet town with
him. He was very happy that sum-
mer; but. alas. it was only FOOLS para
disc. Soon after her return to the city
she wrote him that she could not marry
him, as her parents utterly forbade it.
The letter was very sad. and sweet, and
tenderly regretful, but, reading it,
Elias felt that she did not wish to marry
him He realized that his happiness
had been but seasons amusement for
her. He read the letter to his mother,
and then said, dryly: Il guess ! better
make up my min to settle down an be
an old BACH
WAL" observed his mother, grimly,
and with scornful lips, ''p'r'aps you'll
be jest as well off," She had never APP
proved of the city girl.
After this Elias felt that life was TO
hold no new happiness for him. He
must be content with what he had. And |
so his mother and .the little home be- |
came more and more to him. The years |
slipped uneventfully by, until he was
As. The next spring his mother died, |
and he learned what loneliness was.
Other springs, he remembered, had |
been tumultuous with glad, new life; |
insects, birds and animals had filled the |
air with CHEEKY noises; but now he was
only conscious of sad, suffocating ST.
lence, which sometimes pressed with
actual pain upon his senses.
The responsibility of his position.
too, appalled, him. His life seemed to
have lost its motive power. Nobody |
cared now what time he got up in the
morning or how many days he worked
at the early blowing. He could be as
"shif'less" as he liked. The thought
was constant prick to his conscience.
But he struggled on stubbornly with
bis new duties and responsibilities; he
did the homework with scrupulous
care, and laid out the flower beds ac-
cording to his mothers long-estab-
lished rules. But his brow was twist
ed in continuous scowl, and once he
threw down his tools. impatiently. and
walked away, muttering: II cant
work no longer 'thout boss. I'm sick
as death of doin' things Jest as I'm
min'ter."
One mild June night he sat on the
doorstep, thinking somewhat bitterly
OF his lonely life. The honeysuckle
above the porch filled the air with per-
fume. The pine tree sighed with ten
der sadness. A flood of moonlight fall
tered about. scattering quaint, fanciful
Suddenly woman stood
before him. 1t was Mrs. Warner, his
neighbor. She was a slim, little wom-
an, with a smiling mouth and great.
tender, gray eyes. Good evenin'.
'Lias, she said, softly; Lonesome, amt
yeh?" She sat down on the step beside
him. 81 know jest how tits, for, since
Silas died, two years ago, I've been so
lonesome over there alone. seemed S il
sn q go crazy, sometimes"
Elias looked at her with new interest.
1t had never occurred to him before that .
she might be lonely lover there alone"
He had known her from child, when
they had gone to school together. They
had always been friends, but he had
never dreamed of any closer con-
nection between her life and his; for. ,
n the first dainty flush of her woman-
iood she had begun 'keepin' com
pany' with Martin Green. A year or
two later Green had suddenly left for
he west. He had never returned, and
folks said there had been lovers quar- I
rel. Soon afterward she married Silas S
Warner, and had lived ever since OF. the :
farm near by.
wal, yes, | be lonesome" drawled
Elias, slowly, lifting his blue eyes full
o hers; terrible lonesome. | can't :
stan ii much longer" c