Gloucester County Democrat. (Woodbury, N.J.) 1878-1932, 1901-07-04
The
Kenn edys'
Fourth Of July
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& Fourth Of July :
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The postmaster-wh was also the vii
| iage blacksmith just come in from
the forge. He was a huge, clumsy crea-
| ture, with a whisky reddened face and
kindly smile. He was sorting bundle of
letters between his big, blackened fingers.
| The little old man at the outer side of the
partition was watching him with an ex-
| preston of timorous entreaty.
s'Seems like seen a letter here for
you, Mr.. Kennedy. Sophy," he called to
his wife, who sat sewing in the rear of
the room, ''hain't there letter here for
| Mr.. Kennedy"
"Yes, there is. It's Cecelia's writin
| too. It's a tolerable thick letter. Look
Rgain, Bill"
"Here it is-Pve got it," He passed
an envelope through the little wooden
gated aperture to the knotty brown hand
tremblingly outstretched to receive it.
'It is, from her, amt it, Mr. Kennedy?
| Comm home. maybe"
al don't know. That's what I'm
wonderin.' He had laid the letter down
on the ledge and was eagerly fastening q
pair of spectacles behind his ears. Land,
land, if it should be, what would mother
say-whatever would she sayp'
He was weather beaten old farmer,
| with a clean cut, clean shayen face-a
| face that, despite its frmness of feature,
was full of gentleness. The well shaped
old head was thatched with gray hair,
and the eyes back of the glasses were sin
cere and sympathetic.
NO." he announced in tone of disap-
| pointment. He had got the letter open at
last and was reading it rapidly. Shes
| at the exposition, an she wanted we
should know she was well an happy, an
! hopin we was the same, an-that's about
all. Oh, yes, an she's sent mother dress
| pattern. 'Twould be at the deepo' same
| time as this letter come. She's reel good
hearted, Cecilia is. She-she went away
soon after you folks settled here" The
old eyes were wistfully lifted. II don't
suppose you remember her right we'll"
he concluded.
"Oh. yes, do" returned Bill Wheeler
heartily. "The prettiest girl said so to
| Sophy when l seen her--didn't l, Sophy? :?
The prettiest girl in these parts"
''She was good girl. too," put in the
old man eagerly. ''There wasn't no better
girl around than Cecilia. But after that
winter we sent her to school in Hastings
seemed like she couldn't bear the farm.
She was young, an she found it lonesome.
1t was lonesome. with only mother an me
| there There was them that said she
ought to have let us know she was goin,
| but | say to mother she couldn't bean to
tell us goodby. She's wrote regular since,
but her letters come from lots of dif'rent
| towns. The lady she's companion for is
one that's allus takin towers, they call
'em. 1t is pleasant life for my girl. An
the wages is good. but Though his lips
continued to move, the remainder of the
sentence was inaudible. "Ill be goin
down to the deepo' now" he said.
Thanks to you. Mr.. Wheeler"
"That's all right; good day to you"
And, when the door had closed behind old
man Kennedy, Wheeler stood silent a
moment or two.
"Somehow it makes me feel queer to
hear him talk that way, Sophy. It's six
years since she run off. She weren't but
| Is then An all she's done is send 'em
presents-ain't ever come a-nigh 'em."
Mrs. Wheeler scrawny, dyspeptic
looking creature, bit her thread off with
a vicious jerk.
"Bet there's good reason she don't. l
allus said she was no account girl, an
| it's safe to guess she hain't improved
none"
"Sho. now, Sophy," he demonstrated.
81 wouldn't be too sure of that. Like as
not she's earnin her money honest"
| "Liker'n not she amt" retorted Sophy
tartly and resumed her sewing.
Old man Kennedy plodded off with his
| basket and, after getting a package at
the depot, drove home. The sun had gone
down, but the mellow brlliance of the
afternoon still fingered as he turned into
the road that led to his farm. Waist high
| and green as sea water the corn ripped
away to the horizon in limitless pillows.
| The light wind driving over the oats set
it courtesying in fantastic undulations or
| bowed it in temporary depressions of
bronze brown shadow. And in the hedges
| of Usage orange and honey locust were the
whir of the wings and the twitter of bird
vespers.
His wife was waiting for him when he
stopped in front Of the house before driy-
ing around to the barn.
you got the groceries, father, an
what's this? present from Cecilia!
My dear little daughter! A letter too!
! oh. let the horses wait, father. You
must read it to me. Why, your hand is
burnin. Are you sick? 2"
"No-no." He numbered down over the
wheel. .sIll tell you in a minute Lis
ten' He read aloud for her the lines her
eyes had grown too dim to decipher.
| when he had come to the end he burst
out with the plan which was to electrify
| her. He smoke so fast he stumbled over
his words and repeated himself. But at
last If was clear to her. They were to
! snend the Fourth of July at the exposi-
tion And If was nossihle Cecilia would
stilI he IN tbe civ with her mistress. And
-ecstat;c nossib;litv-thev might seq her.
"Thora,s no address on the lcttern he
hurried on .but we might meet her, or