Republican news item. [volume] (Laport, Pa.) 1896-19??, 1900-05-31
THE
BELLS Of HULL.

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Old Peter. Harvey was o strange
man. After living so years bachelor
be astonished the little world in which
he lived by marrying little old maid
as strange as himself, and all the little
world laughed.
But he was good husband and
kind father to his only child, Annie.
After IL years OF married life he and
his wife, Elizabeth, were called away
almost in an hour, leaving little Annie
to sob out the first great grief OF her
life.
After the funeral, when Peter Har-
vey and his wife had been laid side by
side in the old graveyard, and the stern
Covenanter minister had said his few
solemn words of regret for the dead
aud comfort for the living, little Annie
Harvey went to live with her uncle,
Andrew Mallory, until she should be-
come of age.
At IL years old Annie Harvey was
like a rosebud. One fears to see the
bud expand into the magnificent
flower. lest the delicate tints OF. the
exquisite proportions may be lost.
Such were the feelings Of good Mrs.
Mallory when she said to her hus-
band:
II wish the lassie would just stay
the pretty BARN she is now"
''Tut. tut, mither; mind when ye
were wee bairn yourself; and who
says ye're not a comely body noo?"
said the sturdy old Scotchman.
That Annie Harvey should have
other views than her aunt concerning
herself is not strange. She was i'm
patient for the time to come when she
could assume the long dresses and the
accompanying airs of ripper years, and
already she had faint dreams of the
delights of beaus, parties, dancing
and that crowning delight, flirting.
From II to II! How slow the years
move! 1t seems an age in youth, and
but moment in age.
Little Annie Harvey had become
Miss Harvey. She was exceedingly
pretty, and she knew it. She also
knew that she was heiress to the lands
and money of her prudent though odd
father, and she had been told that the
money had been doubled and quad
rupled in the careful hands of Uncle
Mallory.
But another thing she had not been
told, thst would have been pleasanter
in her ears than oil this. She certain
ly had lovers; but they were such
milk-and- water fellows that she could
not for the life of her help thinking
of them as she did her uncle's oxen,
great, harmless, good-natured animals
good enough. but so dull.
Among the friends of Peter Harvey
was Robert Wallace, an honest, hard
working man, but singularly unfor-
tunate. Ii COW became choked eat
ing turnips, it was his COW; if boy
went to sleep in meeting and was
marched out in disgrace, or warn ed
from the pulpit, it was sure to be his
boy. When the minister's bees
swarmed on Sunday and refused to go
into the nice new hive, out of hun
dred heads present they selected his
head and fought sharply for resting
place there.
his wife nailed horseshoe over
the door and he drove his oxen and
horses with witch hazel rod, but still
the troubles came. Finally old Kizzie
Brock threw salt in his we'll, and from
that day forward his troubles ceased.
Within an hour after old Kizzie had
settled the witches in the we'll, Peter
Harvey came riding down the lane,
singing his favorite song, Comm
Through the Rye, "a sign that he was in
an excellent good humor. After stop
ping to have chat and taking drink
from the we'll, he proposed to Robert
Wallace to sell the few animals and
other things he could not take with
him and emigrate to Illinois; aud,
drawing out his we'll filled pocket
book, he counted him $4OO for the
journey.
Great was the Joy of the Wallaces
at this unexpected act of fri 'ndship.
'But," said Peter Harvey. when he
had written out note for the money,
made payable when convenient, "you
must give me security. and I'll just
take mortgage on this colt" And
he clapped his hand on the head of
one of the half-dozen lads who called
Robert Wallace father.
With true Scotch humor the mort
gage was executed and recorded and
Robert Wallace, with his household,
started for distant Illinois.
Like all emigrants to new
country, he had his troubles, hut in
the end prospered. He owned broad
acres, and cattle and horses in abun-
dance, and after eight years on the
prairies, he said to his wife:
"When the crops are secured we
will go back to old Ryegate and take
look once more at the green hillocks
of Vermont.
'And mind you cancel that mort
| gage and make me free man." said
John Wallace, now young lawyer in
! Peoria.
''Pm thinking the lad intends tc
marry aud wants to make a clean
record" said his mother, laughing.
But Robert Wallace and his wife
| nayer saw their Scotch friends in old