Democratic messenger. [volume] (Snow Hill, Md.) 1869-1973, 1902-08-16

; THE SQUIRE'S (
|! ~ ROMANCE. .



Hop picking was always gala time
at Pendexter farm Far away the golden
haze hung over the hills like quivering
evil; the bland air was full of soft, sub
tie fragrance of wild grapes ripening in
the woods, and wherever dead tree or
rude stone wall afforded it vantage
ground the silvery tangles of clematis
wove a lovely garland, and the masses
of golden rod and purple fringed asters
held up their clusters of dazzling bloom
And in the hop field merry voices echoed
from morning until night.
Will Pendexter, walking Up and down
the aisles of silver-gr lts,fage with
his hands behind his back. might have
reminded one of Boaz i'm the ancient
Scripture story-princely Boaz standing
i'll his harvest fields and giving kind
glance and pleasant word to every one
Isn't he handsome 2" said little
Fanny Dix to Miss Morgan, the rector's
daughter. Fanny was pale little
dressmaker, with an incipient cough.
who had been recommended by her doc
tor to spend fortnight in the hop fields;
and Miss Morgan, whose mother had
died of consumption, picked hops every
year on principle. just as Judge Marier's
daughters visited long Branch.
"And all the handsomer since he has
turned gray l do wonder why he
never marrled?"
Don't you know said Miss Morgon,
sagely.
mo"
II can tell YOU then, said the rector's
daughter, who dearly loved morsel of
genuine romance. Because his first
love Tilted him.
"As if any one would jilt Will Pen
dexter" said incredulous Fanny.
"Oh, but he wasn't Squire Pendexter
then-and all this happended twenty
years ago." averred Miss Morgan. her
flying fingers never leaving off among
the clusters of pale green hops. THAT
was before he inherited Pendexter farm.
He was only poor young farmer then,
with his own living to make, and this
was beautiful girl who was spending
the summer here And they were en-
gagged and all-and the very night be-
fore the wedding she ran away with an
Italian, one Count Caprlvi, who was
singing on the New York stage
Fanny drew long breath.
And what became of them she
said.
"Oh. they went to Italy, where the
count expected TO succeed to large es.
tates. and suppose they are there now. -"
Fanny looked with secret awe at the
ruddy face and magnificent height of
Will Pendexter. as he sauntered down
the green aisles of waving tendrlls and
to hear him ask Martha Bently about
her baby in the off hand, ordinary Ian
guage of everyday life. and give lame
Billy Bartlett Good day." just as if
there had been no Countess Caprivi in
the world.
But Fanny Dix was but a girl yet. and
did not know how twenty years will
bridge over the darkest gulf in a human
life. There is no scar that will not heal
in twenty years; there is not a grave on
which grass will not grow-aye, and
daises bloom-in twenty years.
II do not know that we can take an.
other hand, Simpson," said Squire
Pendexter. meditatively. 1.-The field is,
crowded now
what Thought exactly, SIR" said
the overseer, respectfully But this
ere is pretty young slip of girl, with
a feeble mother dragging along on her
arm. And man don't like to say no
to such So l thought I'd just speak to
you before"
Where are they, said the Squire.
rubbing the gold knob of his walking
cane against his nose. and Simpson
knew that the cause of the forlorn
strangers was safe enough.
Mother, don't fret, here comes the
gentleman now. said clear, soft toned
voice, and Squire Pendexter found him.
self looking into a pair of wistful, deep
blue orbs-orbs that belonged to slight
beautiful girl dressed in faded fabric and
worn shoes, who was leaning against
the well curb, for while Simpson had
been gone on his errand of inquiry, she
had drawn bucket of clear cold water
out of the sparkling depths of the well
and given her mother drink out of
the silver bound gourd which always
hung there Sir" without a moment 5
hesitation. might | have a job of work i'll
your hop fields: We have come from
the city-mother and there's no
living to be picked up there, and my
mother is aiing, and we Thought the
smell of the hops might do her good
Please, sir, we'd work cheap. if only we
might sleep i'll the barn and have bit of
something to eat between whiles -
don't want you to work cheap" said
the Squire. assuming an aspect of un-
wonted gruffness to cover the sympa-
I