The St. Louis Republic. [volume] (St. Louis, Mo.) 1888-1919, 1901-06-23

have heard people say. on their FIRST
acquaintance with Saybcurne. that the dear
old church was built not so much Tor the
village as for the manor-house and the rec
tory. II certainly lay between them, on the
opposite side Of the way.
The pretty, well-kept churchyard was
screened from the road by a high hedge. IN
which an underground of horn-beam was
in summer time blotted out of sight by a
luxuriant mantle. part dog-roses and part
h~oneysuckle.
At the upper end of this lovely summer
fence was a lane which went on past the
church 10 a picturesque half-timbered cot
tage, with a parlor and a kitchen on the
ground floor. a snug bedroom and large
closet or storeroom above. Beyond this
cottage the lane dwindled to a narrow
pathway, and finally came TO a sudden end
ing. when the fve-barred gate of a meadow
stopped the way.
A well-kept garden went round the cot
tage and ended behind It in q spinney; here
the earliest primroses were TO be found.
and beyond the spinney was the ditch that
oordered the meadow.
that loving hands tended the flowers on tho
graves. Presently. going on behind the
church. ! came upon a tall. spare man
bending over q climbing rose which the
wind had ioosened from the cross to which
Il had been fastened
ne looked I'D anu puilcu Oh Lis mat
ing thereby O mass OF long gray hair-too
gray, / fancied. for the age of his delicate
face. The smile in his pleasant eyes was
rs sweet as a woman's. and his thin hands.
with their pale. slender fingers. had also a
feminine aspect. The dignity of his man
ner and reticence In his talk, however, were
distinctly masculine. Raymond had spoken
70 me Of Job Stonor. the verger, and l at
once recognized him.
1T is you, then" I said. who takes such
care OF the flowers here? This Is the most
interesting graveyard I ever saw: every
thing looks so well cared for"
He shook his head and smiled.
Il wish l could think 30. ma'am. 1 do
what 1 can. but I shouldn't take credit for
It. ma'am; / love gardening for its own
sake"
Il love gardening. too" I said. you
must come up one morning to the rectory,
Mr.. Stonor: we have plenty of old -fashionei
pants which want dividing. and You may
like to have some for your graves"
Il can only plant a few. as l like some of
the old ones" he said: thank YOU all the
same, ma'am-"
Have You always been fond of garden
ing?"
Always fond Of flowers. but not OF gar
dening till l came here. ma'am."
He looked sad. and 1 did not like to Ques-
ton him. Presently he said. Tn glad to
think the rectory garden has a mistress
fond of flowers. Don't you think. ma'am.
country people should by rights be better
than Londoners. on account of the lowers?'
l did not quite understand. and l suppose
] looked questioning.
Seems TO me. ma'am. they're so pure. so
fresh and spotless; the likest TO them in
innocence is a newborn babe and We can't
tell how soon a faint won't show In the
fairest babe that's born"
l felt a great interest in my new ac-
Quaintance: he seemed different from ordi-
nary people; 1 wondered about him. He
did not speak like a countryman, and 1
fancied ne had been used to other sur
roundings.
You live near. / SUPPOSE"
He saw me look at the cottage, and he
smiled.
"wfl you walk in n rest, ma'am?'
Then as l thanked him and said / would
come another day. he went on: Such a
day as 1t Is. you must like to be In the air
all you can. ma'am. The sunshine seems
to hnd Its way beyond the body; II glad
dens ones heart. Please excuse me for
pressing. ma'am."
Il do not call 1t pressing: It interests me.
! nke listening to you"
His smile was ~singularly sweet as he
shook his head.
Thank you for saying SO. ma'am: may
be I wouldn't talk just SO with everyone:
you. ma'am. set me thinking out loud"