The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1902-12-13
THE Line FENCE.
A CHRISTMAS STORY.

A CHRISTMAS STORY.
Miss Susanna. you have bewitched
the weather clerk along with the rest
of us-nObody ever saw finer Christ
mas eve Major Baker said as he step
ped inside the hall at Woodstock Christ
mas was everywhere-in the sky pow
dered over with winking stars. the
earth, powdered with a half inch of
crisp snow, the lines of dark evergreens
either side the walk, whose fruited
boughs showed as knobs and blotches of
silver by the light of lanterns festooned
all the way to the gate.
Most Of all, there was Christmas in
the air. Light from many candles
streamed through it to melt into rivers
of fireshine from the backlogs cracking
in the big freplaces. The radiance play
ed tricksily over the maSsed Christmas
green's. For the most part they were
pine and holly. but overhead. midway
the hall, there hung clump of rich
berried mistletoe- The major drew Su-
sauna beneath it all unawares and kiss
ed her handsomely-on both cheeks
rather than the lips At that everybody
laughed The major was her fathers
friend, and after a sort her own fairy
godfather. But those nearest were
amazed to see Susanna flush daintily
then turn white, over something he
whispered, too low for other hearing.
! Susanna hated herself for thus chang
ing countenance. She knew her world
was on watch-it had been sharp-et
concerning her affairs ever since her en-
gagement was broken. She had shrunk
inexpressibly from dancing in Christ
mas, as was Woodstock's habit, but her
| father would not hear to anything else.
| He had held his head higher than ever
since he had forbidden Bruce Drayton
the house Susanna's hands ci1nched
whenever she let herself remember the
day. 1t was hard, so bitterly hard, that
two young hearts should break because
two testy gentlemen had chosen to
quarrel over a line fence twenty years
beforel Latterly the quarrel had slept
Col. Drury, her father, had almost for
gotten it in the distraction of active con-
Germs. Not so old Bruce Drayton.
/ Bruce's hed-ridden uncle. THE day You
marry Clement Drury's daughter you
forfeit all claim me or my estate he
had said when Bruce told him of his
choice. Then Bruce had come straight
i to Woodstock and asked her father for
her, saying: Il have nothing but myself
and my horse, but, depend on it, 1 won't
let your daughter starve."
Explanations had followed-explana-
tions that set the Drury pride, Drury
temper. all afiame. In the month since
Susanna had seen her sweetheart but
once. and for the least little minut4.
But she knew, through Major Baker,
who went to Pen DraytOn as freely as
he came to Woodstock. that the squire
held Bruce to the strict letter of their
agreement as plantation owner and
manager; thus Bruce was not free to
| Christmas eve. Tonight the ma jor had
told her something else-something that
went to her heart. her head, and thence
shone out through her eyes, and glowed
rosily in her cheeks until she was trans
figured. Joyous as Bacchante, she led
the Christmas ring games, light as
waited thistle down she danced through
Christmas mazes. Then, with the clock
| on the stroke of II, and Sir Roger de
Coverley in full swing, she slipped away,
huddled her white litheness within
something dark. ran out to her black
mare, Low-Light. mounted, and went
headlong across the cleaning fields, her
face to the west. Pen-Drayton lay west
erly from Woodstock. If only certain
farmost bounds of the two estates had
not marched together their owners
might never have quarreled.
''DarIingi" The cry was a Daean of
| joy and love. You have really come to
me? You understood? 1 could not come
for you-after what your father said .
Bruce's arms were around her, her little
( chill hands fast in his warm clasp Il
have waited here five hours at least
he ran on, still holding her close Don t
say it was foolish to come at o'clock
4 had to do something that meant
bringing you to me-
They were in the further high road.
exactly where the disputed boundary
ended. Far across the fields the rival
mansions doomed. Glimmers of misty
light made Woodstock CHEEKY. Pen
Drayton lay black, forbidding, the NOR
al of desolation. Look at them Look
closet" Bruce said, waving his arm
wide. -Sweetheart-it must be last
I look-I am taking you away from-ev-
erything. We will be married at the
court house-then the down train shall
take us south. 1t is due at 4 O'Clock
that gives us time. but none to spare"
Il told my father 7 would go when
ever you asked me-" Susanna said, with
a little shiver Bruce drew her hand to
1 his lips and held it there while he said
AT least we have been frank with our
| elders and betters. Oh, it was pitiful to
see Uncle Bruce. He kept me beside
him until the clock struck. Then I told
him what meant to do, and offered, be-
/ fore ! left, to rewrite his will You
know. as it stands it gives me every
thing. He stormed at me. I won't die
| tonight III live to change my will in
my own way and time!' But that did
not hurt-the real pinch came when he
broke down and begged me to stay with
him"
Did you leave him all alone?" Susan
ma asked, softly. Bruce nodded, saying: