The Newtown bee., 1899-04-07
The Home Circle.
About the Boothby Gold Mine.
THE DRAINING OF THE swAMP-AND THE
FAITHFUL LOVE OF ANNA AND JOHN
LANE.
CFRoM THE sPRINoFIELD REPUBLICAN. ]

Mr. Boothby was putting comfortably
at his clay pipe while his eyes wandered
over fields and slopes, which were broad
enough In acreage, had that alone been a
measure Of their value. In those hillsides
there was stability, which was what the
Booth, nature lacked. The outcropping
rocks were to him the tables of stone on
which his destiny was divinely written.
"WhGre's the use of worryin', Lizyp
he demanded.
SIS 1t worryin', Hiram, to stop once in
q while to look our situation in the face?n
Mrs Boothby slowly inquired.
"We'Ve had enough to eat so fur, and q
good roof to shelter as, and know faint
right TO keep railin' against Providence"
protested Mr. Boothby. "Besides, there's
money OWN TO rs from Bemis for the
last lot Of pine saplin's that 1 sold him,
and he's at me every time see him to let
him have the lot on t'other side Of the hill.
But 1 tell him that's your life insurance. /;
he nor nobody Amt goin' to cut stick
on't.n
AAI 1HNGhANAGA VII5 VA LAAiNh DO0LuUY
were likewise taking in the generous
acres of their domain. Perhaps it was on
account of the spectacles that she saw
only the smallness of the potato patch in
the foreground, and the sorrel and milk
weed which were usurping the places Of
clover and corn. The sloping pasture land
where, in days gone by, a goodly herd Of
cows had been content to feed, was fast
growing up TO white bIrches and mullen
stocks. While she looked until there was
a misty blur In front of her eyes, Mr.
Boothby talked on with all of that elo-
quence which bubbles up out of optimis-
tic natures.
sStuff CROWN like smoke-wood and
timber--sll over the farm. CROWN when
we're asleep, Lily. Then there's the
swamp; you haven't forgot what Charles
says about the richness of the s'ile Ia that
ERE swampP'
~ won't be likely to fergit, not IL your
harpin' on it can keep it fresh In my
mind"
This was 20 much like taunt that it
brought q flash Of anger INTO the mild
blue OF Mr. Bootbby's eyes. ut was
your father that fust spoke of the s'ile in
that swamp, long ago as when we was
married, Lily, and he give you deed
Of the farm as dowry," said MIR Booth
by, with warmth. ~ remember how he
said it as plain as though it was only Wis
terday. Hiram says he, lookin' at me
over his glasses, the way ne alters did,
sthe mud In that ERE swamp III be as
good as gold mine to you and Lily IL
you turn to and make the most ont. TIN
have to be dreened, and the stumps dug
out, and the muck plowed and harrered,
and it'll produce bigger crop in one year
than all the rest Of your farm can yield in
Ave. Them, Lily, were your own fathers
words, and, accordin' to your tell, it's
from him you git your amazln' calcutta
tin streak"
Eliza's taunt, II one bad been intended,
was returned, and she had no heart then
to continue discussion which she knew
could do no good. The Creightons, who
were her people, had called Hiram Booth
W AA1I DAAo SAS AACW w NC hn
For S6 years Of their welded life he had
worked early and late; 1t was only dur
ing the last year that he had taken to
smoking and doing in the chimney cor
ner in way which she instinctively nm
derstood to be sign OF the sudden com.
ing on Of old age.
Although Mr. Boothby had always toll
ed uncomplainingly, they had never sue
ceeded In getting fore-handed as did
other Woodworking and frugal people
whom they knew. He was ready man
when IL came to making new things; but
he had neither the knack nor the patience
to mend what was broken or worn. The
house was full of one-artned and three
legged chairs, and other articles OF fur
niture more or Less MANNED or bruised,
although Mr. Boothby was forever whit
thing or glueing together clever novelties
OF his own designing. AS country people
account &c npmy, Mr. Boothby was
waategul. III one direction only was ne
uncompromisingly saying; he would
come in from his most distant 6sld TO