Daily camera., 1901-05-11
SSSSOSSSSSNSSH
TIE yTdGE
DRIVERS Story
g THAT? Oh. that's old Squire
BY Mary B., sleisht.

g THAT? Oh. that's old Squire
Homes place; at least, twas
his once, and II mighty fine place it
ix, too" said Capt. Bob" the stage
| driver.
l was the only passenger, and as
the day was fine l was sharing his
scat for n better view of the country.
We were just then passing large,
o!d-fashioned mansion standing well
back from the road and surrounded
with magnificent elms and naples.
"Yes, it's mighty nice old place.
repeated the driver, land it just does
me good to see them youngsters frol-
licking on that grass plot. llullo'
there's the old squire himself!" and
he pointed with his whip handle to
n shaggy-bearded old man who with
the help of a crutch was hobbling
down the steps. Seems pretty bad
" broken up. And he used to be one
O. the halcst, heartiest men in Stan
tonyille. | know | used to look up
at him when was boy and think
that the giants I'd read about could
| MT have been much bigger. But the
trouble with him WAS his inside
makeup didn't fit the outside. 1T
| always seems to me when l see some
O them great gianty-lookin' men as
| ii the Lord meant 'cm to have hearts
AZ big in proportion as their bodies,
but they don't always; or If they
we're big once, they've got so badly
shriveled up, some of them, that J
should think they'd wabble round
like a dried kernel in a walnut shell.
"My uncle Ben used to go to schooI
with the squire when he was a
youngster, and he says he was so
mean that he wouldn't SO much as
give fellow an apple core without
maxim him pay back in chewin' gum,
and when ycu see boy so stingy
as that you can most genly tell
about what sort of man he is goin'
| to make. But he was an only son,
and l s'pose that helped to spoil
him. He had one sister, and when
her husband died, leayin' her with
two children and scarcely money
| enough to pay his funeral expenses,
| she begged her brother to let her
| come back to the old home; but she
might as well have asked that big
rock yonder to take pity on her.
| And 'twasn't long before the poor
lady, not being used to hardships,
broke down and died, Folks thought
| then that maybe he'd be shamed into
! dofn' something for the two orphans.
| seein' they were his own nephews;
and he was: he took 'em both out o
school and 'prenticed 'em to n shoe
maker. Generous. wasn't he? And
| he had but one child of his own, too,
| and she was a girl that would have
| been glad enough to have 'em for
| brothers. Her own mother was dead
as nice woman as you'd care TO
meet; one o your real ladies, with
| ALWAYS a smile aud n heartsome word
for everybody; Il good prayin wom'
an. too. Folks that knew her init
mate use to say that she was always
| prayin' for the squire, and that
| sometimes she'd send note askln
| TO have him prayed for in meetin d.
| She didn't give in his name, but
everybody knew who il was. But
prayin' for a man like Squire Hone
( always seems 10 me n waste o
| breath. Anyway, the poor ls9y died
without seein' any good come OF 1t,
| and 'twasn't more'n n year fore he
was married again. The second wife
was n good deal like himself. big and
| handsome, with no more heart than
an oyster. and Annie, who was one
o. them soft-eyed little things that
| ALWAYS look as il they wanted lot
| o. motherin'. got to pinin so that
| a, last some OF her mothers relatives
over in Waterbury sent for her and
| KEEP her till she was grown up.
remember as well as II twas yester-
! day the day she came back: Ia just
/ begun drivin' the stage, and she was
cne O. my first passengers. a tall.
slm-built girl, with forehead like
a baby's, and look in her eyes that
made you feel as If you wouldn't say
q swear word before her no more'n
you'd cut of your hand: and that's
the kind o. girl that ! like to have
round when that off horse begins to
| get balky. Hi, there, Jerry None
/ o. your nonsense" But the of horse
was in a mulish mood, and there was
long break in the story.
"The squire'd been sort o ailin'
that spring" said Capt. Bob, when at
last the baker was conquered, "and
when Annie heard of il she hurried
home to see il she couldn't cheer
him up. And he was mighty well
pleased to have her there, for he and
madam didn't get on any too well
together; and no matter how mean
man is, he likes havin' somebody
to coddle him all the same, specially
when he's sick. But when he found
out that she was gettin' letters from
young feller in Waterbury, and
was expectin' some time or other to
marry him, he was madder'n March
hare, ard swore that il she didn't
give him up he'd cut her off without
penny. But Annie didn't take
that part of it much to heart, for the
young man was purity well to do, and
as he wasn't through college they did
mt feel in any hurry about marry
in. But as soon as he was ready to
start out for himself he went right
to her father, for he was real
straightforward sort of feller, and
told him he'd come to ask for Annie.
For answer the squire ordered him
to 90 about his business and wait
till he was sent for. But at that
Annie braced up and said that she
had given her promise to marry him
as soon as he was through college,
and seein' she was Of age she
thought it wouldn't b right fos her
10 break her word.
"'Oh, marry him! Marry him!'
stormed the old squire, hard as a
flint, but warn you, not cent will
you get from me if you have to 60
to the poorhouse.' And Annie, feelin'
that she wasn't beholden to her