The Somerset herald. [volume] (Somerset, Pa.) 1870-1936, 1899-05-03
THE COTTAGE ON THE FELL.
BY J. T KINGSLEY rARrEY.

On the old road between l1angtOu
and Fazerley, half way up the fell,
there stands the ruin of a pretty little
thatched cottage. Roses and honey
suckies twine over the porch; and,
though there is no garden to speak of,
the old road is so overgrown with grass
and flowers that it is a garden in itself.
There is no traffic this way now, ex-
cept on market days, when the carts
from a few scattered farmsteads go
past f. zerley; so the long, green rib
bOns on the road aud the wide borders
gradually eneroaeh year by year,
until in some places they meet in level
stretch of grass. The heather comes
down the hillside almost to the wall,
and through it, laughing and dancing,
runs little beck, which crosses the
road few yards below the cottage.
Some ten years ago the place was oc-
cupied by a young widow and her twin
children, boy aud girl. She had
come there with her babies five years
before, on her husbands death, aud had
earned a scanty living ever since by
working for one of the shops at Fazer
lev. She was either too shy or too
proud to make friends easily, and nc
one knew whether she had friends Ol
kindred elsewhere. On market days
some one of the passing farmers would
bring her small purchases up from Fa
zerley, or take her bundle of work dowT
to the shop. The bustling farmer
wife at the Fellside farm had always /
kindly word, and sometimes bun ol
an apple, for the twins, when they
went to fetch the milk two or thret
times a week. The old shepherd, wher
his sheep were on that side of the fell
liked to have chat with the little one
in passing, or to have them trot besid'
him for a mile along the road; bu
these were the nearest approaches t.
intimacy the country folk had with thu
occupants Of the cottage. The chill
dren always looked clean and neat anC
rosy; the cottage was a miracle of or
der and trimness; and no one guesse'
till it was too late the terrible poverty
that had been hidden under this cheer
ful air of independence.
During the winter and spring th
mother had been constantly ailing; sh
had a troublesome cough, and NOR
than once when the farmers passed ol
market days the twins had taken mes
sages from her in bed. 1t was no mat
ter of surprise to Farmer Bleasdale
therefore, when to his usual inquir.
one morning in August, the little gin
replied that "Mother was poorly, an
nothing was wanted" When he pass
Ell back in the evening the two chi
dren were sitting on the doorsteps con
tentedly eating bread and gooseberrie
for their tea, and sharing mug
milk between them. They had playe
about the cottage and the lane all day
paying tiptoe visits now and then t
their mother, who was strangely qnie
and had taken none of the tea the
had so carefully prepared for her. tn
twins slept at their mothers feet t
make more room in the narrow bed
and when it grew dusk they creI
quietly in without disturbing her. l
the night the boy awoke, crying, wit
the touch of something cold.
"Mairly, Mairiy, what is il? II
frightened % he sObbed.
"Hush, Don Don't wake mother,
whispered the little girl; and so, cue
ding close together, they slept agaiI
Early ia the morning they wei
awakened by a shaft of sunligt
through the eastern window, when Il
sun rose over the fell. They sat L
together, feeling lonely and frightene'
Don began to cry.
"Why doesn't mother wake?"
sobbed. He crept along the bed, an
patted her cheek gently; at the touc
he screamed aud slid to the ground.
"Malrly, Mairly, what is it? WI
is mother so cold?"