The Bamberg herald. [volume] (Bamberg, S.C.) 1891-1972, 1901-09-12

tell me. The buoys wur bit wild
as lads"
Tim Burt assumed an almost pa
rental displeasure.
NO management about the father
he said. "I'd have hided them prop
er. I never could bear bad idle
buoys."
"And yet I can mind Of some bad
buoys caught stealing apples in
Squire Thorn's orchard. Tom-fair-
maids, they were-beauties"
Tim Burt actually laughed.
"And I was the only one caught.
The bailif hided me for the lot. But
YOU are right about the Tom-fair-
maids. they were worth a hiding"
"Tim"- she said, and her voice
grew more earnest: Tim, do you
never banker after the old place."
II have no time for such fancies,
or might
His apathy stirred her into pas.
sionate speech.
II couldn't bide quiet but for tho
hope of saving enough to carry me
back. Oh! when I do think of all the
miles-the weary miles. I 'zim as It
can't be true. Sometimes in the
work room 1 see the old home
so plain as can be! smell
the gilly-fowers until I'm sick with
longing. Your house was too back
sunded to have them so early as We
-turrible backsunded your garden
was, but the sun would wake up
mornings before even the wood-pig-
cons were calling in copse. Can't you
hear them calling: Go to school, you
fool, you fool? Ard then we'd meet
you down the kIap. where the man
lived who was hagrod. Don't you
mind of the beautiful fresh smell Of
the earth, at the autumn plowing,
and can't you see the hedges all a-fre
with red Leaves and burries?"
"You ha:e changed" he said Won
derlngly. II never thought you cared
a trump for such idle fancies. Now,
Loocy---"
"It'y being away" she interrupted
hurr,edly, "and upon times it is like
a hunger that nothing will stay. One
d9y in the gardens 1 heard sndden-
l'ke the tapping of water, just as
the sea would lap in summer, upoH
the pcbble-ridge Of the cove. The
leaping of my heart nearly stopped
it; but when l looked there was only
a foolish little duck squawketinS In
q puddle"
She was terribly in earnest then,
and unsympathetic. Timothy Burt
even felt q thrill Of something. IKE
pity, hut she had almost forgotten
him, for the still waters running SO
deep and so silently for years had 1t
last tumultously overfowed.
81 do fear sometimes that l may
be strook for death before I've time
to get home. Oh. to die and be bur-
ried there! I shall never blde quiet
unless am laid away in that loe
corner with the dear void folks. You
mind the little loe corner down Dy
the plow ground? Your poor void
mother is buried there. Tim; ana
it's but a shabby grave for such as
her. but there is just space enough
left for a little body like me-"
She had not the least idea of ask
ing any help from him, and she came
to herself trembling and ashamed.
She rose to go, but he stayed her.
She had touched him home at last,
and his own vision was as clotted
and blurred as hers: for once upon
a time he had loved his mother dearly.
There was a long pause, and then
he plunged his hand into his pocket
bringing out all the gold it con-
tanned.
"For the hospital" he said huskily.
"stay, it is not enough, you shall have
more. I will send for some"
And he did. She went away with
her thin, little, shallow pocket weight
ed down with gold. But he did more,
for he sent her home as his pald
agent to personally superintend the
erection Of a suitable monument over
his mothers grave. Before accept
ing the commission, she owned to the
innocent deception, and Tim Burt
felt honestly glad that, through his
means his old love might return ID
comfort to her native land.
The JOY Of going home nearly kliled
Lucy, until she got used to it; but the
grand memorial over poor. homeiy
Mrs. Burt almost crowded Lucy her.
self out Of the loe little corner.-
Waverley Magazine.
H0IiHK EARMlMC RAYlNCi.