The Ely miner., 1901-10-11
LISBON HOLLOW.
By Ethel Harrington.

GNIHY, 'Liphe, you've made mis-
YY take way back in the very
beginning. Here it is. Fifteen and
seven aren't twenty-one, are they?"
81 don't know, Livy, I'm sure. If
you tell me they're ninety-one I'll
take your word for it. 1 haven't any
brains of my own tonight. I'm too
tired"
'Oh, well, I'll help you, then. Let's
do it over together. Come, let me
take your pencil"
Il can't do any more tonight, Livy;
I can't
Livy Lanham looked up startled,
for 'Liphe's voice was not quite
steady.
''Are you sick?" she asked, anx-
iously. He shook his head.
''No; only tired. guess it's no use,
Livy; 1 guess you'll have to give me
up"
"But I won't!" she exclaimed.
"You'll have to, if give up myself.
It's more than 1 can do, working and
studying both. 1 shall be down sick
if 1 go on; I'm all used up now; I'm
not myself. feel like girl be-
lieve l could put my head on cush
ion and cry, if hadn't sense enough
left to be ashamed. I must drop one
thing or the other, and the farm
can't be dropped, So" He broke
off. and they were both silent.
The farm could not be dropped, in
deed. 1t was the poorest farm in Nor
ley, but what came from it, together
with Joseph Lanham's meager pen
sion, was all the little family of
three had to live upon. The father,
sickly and slightly crippled, did the
cooking and what odd jobs he could
within doors and without; Livy,
slim, brown girl of sixteen, sewed and
attended to other household matters;
and upon 'Liphe, sturdy youth not
quite two years older, fell the main
burden of labor on the farm.
He was a strong, steady, intelligent
young fellow, who worked hard and
managed better than could have
been expected at his age. He was
sweet-tempered and patient, too, and
made few complaints of the hard lot
to which he felt that honor and duty
held him. One thing only had dis
tressed him-the interruption of his
education.
He had been a good student, but
two years before he had had to leave
school to take the place at home of
an elder brother who died, and there
seemed no chance of his ever being
able to return. But Livy had kept
on going to school, for she was to
be teacher when she was old
enough, and this year, her own learn
'Liphe's had been broken off, she
had taken him for her first pupil, and
taught him in the evening what she
herself learned in the daytime.
This she had faithfully done during
the fall and winter, tired as she often
was after her two miles tramp to
school and back over the snowy coun-
try roads. But now April had come,
bringing with it an illness of several
weeks for the father, who was always
ailing in the spring, and under the
triple burden of trying to be at once
student, farmer and nurse, 'Liphe
felt himself breaking down. AS
neither the farm nor his father could
be neglected, he must give up his
studies.
Livy was the first to speak: "If we
could only hire mani"
81 know. But we can't
''No," she assented sorrowfully.
She added, with burst of indignant
despair, ''That horrid, horrid earth
quake! Why couldn't it have spoiled
somebody else's property and swal-
lowed some other potato patch a
hundred years ago? Then we'd have
had farm worth having! Great
gran'ther Lanham had six men to
help with it, and we can't even have
one! Oh, dear!"
She took her candle and went
slowly to her room, with a pitying
ache in her heart. It was so hard
for 'Liphe! 1t had been some COM
fort hitherto to feel that she was
helping him, but now she could not
even do that. Her pillow was damp
before she fell asleep.
The next day was a holiday on ac-
count of teachers meeting; anS in
the morning early Livy was on her
way to the Whispering Rock, with a
parcel of books in her hand. 1t
had threatened rain the day before