Waterbury Democrat., 1901-06-20
THE DESIRE OF
 HER HEART
By c. Wynne.
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THE road from Burnthwaite to the
 nearest town was long and wind ing, and on hot days there was very little shade for some way. It was a sunny July afternoon when I propped my bicycle against the bank and leaned back luxuriously in tAe shad- ow of the pine trees, under the nodding foxgloves. I could catch ,glimpses of the distant blue noun tains and the lake sparkling in the sunshine, and it was not easy to start again along the hot, dusty road.
 For the moment I almost decided not to go on to the few cottages by the roadside where some of my old people lived.
 I was just beginning to feel ashamed, of myself, and trying to shake off my laziness, when looking down the road my eyes rested on most extraordinary object.
 Was it a reaping machine running away with a bath chair? Or some terrible instrument of torture, being conveyed to the museum in the town? Or just a mangled heap of tricycles bAing lowed slowly home?
 r I gazed and gazed till my eyes were dazzled, and still slowly, ponderously, the strange object advanced, hidden now and then by cloud of dust or a sharp turn in the road.
 It reached my shady spot at last, and [ could see that it was an ancient tri- cycle of marvellous construction, to which was attached a still more an cient bath chair. An old man worked the tricycle., the precipitation pouring down his face, while his wife sat in the chair with a look of awed delight on her face.
 They did not look around them, but gazed steadfastly in front as they ad. yanced slowly up the hill
 When they had disappeared in the distance I tried hard to recall where I had seen the two quaint old people, and it then flashed into my mind that they lived in one of group of cottages in a lane leading from the main road.
 I had missed my way one day, and stopped to ask for drink of water at their cottage.
 Sezing my bicycle I determined to
  history of their wonderful machine.
 They were sitting in the little kitch. en when I arrived, the old man tender ly watching his invalid wife in anxiety lest the ride should have been too much for her.
 The walls of the room were covered with clocks of all descriptions, but most of them had stopped, and some tieked feebly, as if wearing out with age like the old watchmaker who loved >. each of them so dearly.
 A little expressed admiration o1 some of the quaint carved oak cases soon warmed the hearts of the two old people, and before long was sit ting by them listening to the story ct their ancient tricycle..
 Anna canna' dae withoot fresh air she pines and pines indooers, but she has nae poower to stan, and she mauI bide iggin' Qying) or sittin' a day long. But Pse a rash (strong) aulc man, and made a plan, and van day bought an auld tricycle., and fixed hel chair on t front, and moo she car gang oot every day."
 The gentle old woman gazed with ad miration at her "maister" and looked to me for sympathy. They botl seemed overwhelmed with his clever ness and originality.
 "An' a the laadies an gentlemen look at us on t roaad as if she was t queen herself oot ridin'."
 I hardly wondered that "an the Ia dies and gentlemen" turned to gaze il amazement at the strange machine and its owners, but could not say word to mar their intense pride ant delight in the precious tricycle., al though I had a great fear that somI day they would all come to grief to gether.
 When we had fully discussed She sub ject of the tricycle., I asked if the. would like me to come and read tt them sometimes. Old Wolf's fac .clouded at once. "It's lang time sym Pse oppened t Bulk, it's liggin' Giving on t' parlor table with hoower DO on t topI" he said, bitterly.
 "Aye, Jawseph," his wife said, gen tly, '.it wad dae me guid tae hear bi O t Bulk vance mair."
 "Weel, Anna, if thoo wants tho shall" her husband said, more gently While he fetched it his wife told me pitifuI story. "Jawseph did gang reg ular tae t chapel two year syne; bu van day ther coon minister whs praiched that t Bible were not a tn Word O God. and Jawseph he's sai