Spirit of Jefferson. [volume] (Charles Town, Va. [W. Va.]) 1844-1948, 1899-08-29
THE LITTLE CURATE.

| lllH LII i l1L w OA i u.
The curate and Miss Edmiston were
walking down the main street of the
village engaged in conversation. which.
being that of recently affianced pair
need not here be repeated.
Miss Edmiston carried herself with
an air of pretty dignity. made none the
less apparent by the fact that she was
fully two inches taller than her lover,
the Rev John st. John He was Il thin,
wiry little man. dark haired and pale
complexioned. and was much troubled
in his daily walk with certain uncon-
querable shyness. That he should have
won the heart of handsome Nancy Ed
miston was matter for surprise and
discussion among the residents in Brox-
bourne.
''Such a very uninteresting young
mani" said the maiden ladies over their
afternoon tea
$50 ridiculously retiringl How did
he ever come to propose = remarked
the mothers whose daughters assisted in
giving women ain overwhelming and
not altogether united minority in Brox-
bourne society.
The men. On the other hand. voted
st. John n good sort, and his parish
toner's, in their rough ways owned to
his many qualities.
you're u dear little girl. Nancy,
the curate was stammering. looking up
at his beloved. when they were both
stopped short on the narrow pavement.
A burly workman was engaged in chas-
tising a small boy with weapon in
the shape of stout leather belt The
child screamed. and the father pre-
sumably cursed.
''Stopi" cried the curatc.
The angry man merely scowled and
raised the strap for another blow St
John laid Il OBTAINING hand en- the fell
low sarm. the temerity of which caused
the latter such surprise that he Ioosened
his grip for a moment. and the young
ster fed bowling up an alley.
'tWhat the spluttered the bully,
dancing round the curate. who seemed
to shrink nearer to his sweetheart.
''Let us go. dear. he said He had
grown white and was trembling.
At this juncture two of the work
mans cronies appeared at the door of
the alehouse opposite and. seeing how
matters stood. crossed the road, and.
with rough hands and soothing curses,
conducted their furious friend from the
scene.
''Horriblel' sighed the curate as the
lovers continued their walk
Miss Edmiston's head was held a
trihe higher "If were man. she
said, ~ would have thrashed him.
would indeed. "
"You think should have punished
him then2" said the curate mildly.
''He was much larger man than 1,
you know"
Nancy was silent She was vaguely
but screly disappointed in her lover. He
was not exactly the hero she had dream
ed of. How white and shaky he had
turnedl
You surely did not expect me to
take part in street row. Nancy. he
said presently, somehow suspecting her
thoughts. He knew her romantic ideas
But she made no reply.
$50 you think acted in cowardly
fashion p he questioned after chill
pause
''I don't think your cloth is an excuse
anyhow, she blurted out suddenly and
cruelty. The next instant she was filled
with shame and regret. Before she
could speak again. however, the curate
had lifted his hat and was crossing the
street An icy "Goodbyi" was all he
vouchsafed her
MI. ST. John was returning from
paying visit of coincidence some dis
tance out of the village. and he had
taken the short cut across the moor 1t
was clear, summer afternoon, a week
since his parting with Nancy A part
ing in earnest it had been, for the days
had gone by without meeting or COM
munication between them The curate
was a sad young man, though the anger
in his heart still burned fercely. To
have been called coward by the WON
an he loved was thing not likely to be
forgotten His recent visit, too, had
been particularly trying In his soul he
felt that his words of comfort had been
unreal; that, for all he had striven, he
had failed in his mission to the bereaved
mother. So he trudged across the moor
with slow step and bent head, giving
no heed to the summer beauties around
him
He was about half way home when
his somber meditations were suddenly
interrupted. A man rose from the
heather, where he had been lying, and
stood in the path. barring the curate' s
progress.
Now, Mister Parsonl' he said. with
menace in his thick voice and bloated
face.
''Good afternoon. my man, returned
st John. recognizing the brute of q
week ago and turning asred as turkey