The Wilmington daily Republican., 1900-04-06

Ah44nk steed, tricycle. emph atically
tkAlt Tor two (swsetheart being a gentle
woman passenger), was being oiled up
sand its chain mended in the blacksmith q
sShop down In the village. It was very
hearty the prettiest village In Scotland.
where there are, out Of Fife and Gallo
way, not many pretty villages. love to
call 1t Whinnyliggate, and sweetheart
likes to think that "Mr. Father" once
went to school down there in that little
low schoolroom with the wall round it.
The adventure came of just as it was
planned, which things very seldom do in
this world. Sweetheart had been good"
but not too good. 1t was fine morn
ing, fattering the turnip shaws as we'll
as the mountain tops, the sort of morn
ing you want to take drink of and then
smack your lips and say, "How refresh
ing!"
l walked sweetheart by rolling her up
In her blanket and carrying her to the
window.
ooh, father" she said, her eyes still
dusked with Sleep "is 1t review day"
For whenever she is walked suddenly
and taken to the windows she always
thinks that it is to see the soldiers pass,
as she does once year when In mid
summer the volunteers march through
our village-our real for true home VIII
lagoon their way to summer camp. :
mo, sweetheart" said. at is morn
ing, and you are going out to see the sun
rise. But don't make a noise. Nobody
will be up for hours yet, and we must go
out on tiptoe."
b.
paniment of little gurgles Of sound ex-
pressive of intense delight. Sometimes
when l had safety pin in my mouth
she would give my arm quick, impulsive
hug and say "De-e-ear father" This for
no particular reason except that she con-
sidered her own a particularly nice thing
In fathers.
When all was finished, we began a raid
on the pantry with enormous caution
Indians on the war traiD and captured
bread, butter and slices of ham sufficient
for half dozen. Presently we We're
outside the door, and the dewy coolness
of dawn dropped upon US like the first
dip in the sea.
"It's like havin your face washed with
out water!" said sweetheart as we made
our way up the garden walk between the
gooseberry bushes and over the wall.
Here | mounted sweetheart on my shoul-
ders, for the grass was long and dewy.
Bees big and brown were already BOOM
Ing in the foxgloves, and pearls sparkled
on the gossamer suspension bridges that
spanned the path. The swifts were
busily arranging their family affairs in
long, screaming swoops.
little hraaze camn to uc Gltcrad
through miles Of dewy woodland 1t was
a good breeze and smelled of many pleas
ant things.
my hair and gave it little involuntary
tugs as she looked all around the horizon.
We were mounting the heathcry hillside,
and there was no trace OF the sun to be
seen anywhere.
think that, even at the last moment,
sweetheart expected that he might out
wit us. But, no; the sun had not stolen
a march upon us this time. Only away
to the east there was kind of fire col.
sred wash in the hollow between tw
bills.
II know" said sweetheart, who always
explained everything, that's his bath
gettln ready for him. He's g0in to pop
up just there"
l think she expected the sun to shoot
suddenly upward like shuttlecocl1 well |
hit. At last we had climbed high on the
hill crest where the rocks were dry and !
crisp for the feet. l set sweetheart down. !
The wash of easterly fire had grown
rapidly larger. 1t spread to the higher
clouds. which were faxed with seashell