The Anderson intelligencer. [volume] (Anderson Court House, S.C.) 1860-1914, 1898-11-09

Where these are not despise
Lovely checks or lips or eyes.
Thomas Carew.
"A MAID OF THE MILL.
Mr.. Richard Wareham. lying on
his back on the grass under an elm
tree and idreamily smoking good
cigar, was about as near realiza-
ton of his ideas of Utopia as he was
ever likely to be. With plenty of
money. unlimited time ard a feeling
of urbounded satisfaction with his
present position, Dick Wareham
was happy. The half gentlemanly,
half vagabond life which he had led
ali summer suited him exactly.
His quarters at the inn in the vii
1age over the hill were comfortable,
his portfolio was full of sketches.
4 and trout had risen accommodating
IL to his rod; but. more than all. q
thousand times better than all, he
had found in Ghis unfrequented. de-
lightful rural region what he hon
estly believed to be tho sweetest,
prettiest and most modest girl to be
found in any country under the sun.
Whether or not he was in love
with her was matter which he had
not inI his own mind fully decided.
when he first saw Dolly Morse, he
was startled at her prettiness, but
nothing more. It was not until he
mad made several visits to Morse's
mill, for sketching purposes, that
Dollyvs bright eyes began to haunt
: his dreams, and not until after then
did he discover that. go which way
ha would, all roads eventually led,
hy some mysterious means, past the
miIlpe,nd ana the water wheel. If
he fshed, the mill was sure to be in
his wsy; il he sketched, what OBJ
ject more picturesque than the old
building itself. with its adjacent
dam, over which the water fell in a
vide, chin sheet Of silver? Some
times ne spoke with Dolly. some
times she was invisible, and after a
,ue lie began himself to suspect
chat upon his seeing her depended
whether the day had seemed bright
to him or proftless and dull.
And so a stranger knowing these
things would have been at no loss
to guess the subject Of Dick Ware
hams thoughts as he lay on his
back, with his cigar, that lazy sum-
mer morning. But. whatever his
meditations were, he was not long
permitted to enjoy chem.
All. there you arel" exclaimed q
rough, nasal voics near him. 1--we
been looking fur ye."
Wareham raised himself on one
elbow and turned so as to face the
speaker. He saw a low browed, sun
burned man leaning over the fence
and regarding him with look of
satisfaction. The newcomer was
unshaven and clad in ragged shirt
and trousers. His bare toes protrud-
cd from his boots; his head, with its
dusky ahock Of hair, was surmount-
ed by a brimless straw hat, and his
1ounging attitude, his grimy face
and general appearance of shiftless-
ness advertised him as belonging to
that scot Of philosophers commonly
known as stramps." Wareham had
frequently met him, sometimes in
the tavern barroom in the village,
sometimes stumbling upon him fish
ing in the brooks, sometimes find
ing him asleep in the shade. he had
spoken with him but little, but had
set him down in his own mind as
one Of those harmless ne'er do wells.
common to every rural community.
aI've bean looking fur ye, re-
peated the man.
4 $50 you said BEFORE replied
Wareham, lazily blowing a wreath
of smoke into the air. "Well?"
ssThe folks over to the tavern sent
me ter hunt fur ye. I told 'em I
thought ye was down this way. near
the old mill. Ginerally be. amt
ye2"
ssWhat do they want of me at the
tavern?" asked Dick shortly.
"Waal, yer hoss is in trouble. Got
throwed in her stall. and broke her
leg"
Wareham jumped 20 his feet in
stantly.
"what!'' he exclaimed. "Bless
my poor Bessl How could it have
happened2"
dunno. Guess they'll have to
shoot her. They're only waiting fur
ye ter come ter gin the order.
s'Poor, poor Bess!" repeated Dick,
leaping over the fence and tossing
the man coin. "I'm much obliged