The Camden chronicle. (Camden, Tenn.) 1890-current, 1902-07-18

AAiF AhffAi hA MHlit AlbHl Oh AiIt NHAnt ]
stood out from the gloomy background |
beckonng welcome like 2 human
friend.
On each side the porch were benches
where The farmers sat on market
days exchanging the gossip of the
countryside. Indoors the best kitchen
was the gathering place.
On a certain March morning a Ere
of pine logs blazed In the CRATE, and
the side window was thrown open to
let the breeze from the pine wood
stray in. Contrary to precedent, the
hostess OF the Black Bull was n spin
ster. While her father lived she had
set aside all offers Of marriage, and
stood staunchly between the old man
and his besetting sin of conylyiality
till she laid him, honored and lament
ed, Ia the kirkyard on the hill.
One sutton had remained persistent,
Robert Jardine, Of The Willows. His
farm was on the Dumfriessnire hill,
and he looked down on the Black Bull
from its gable windows. But he did
not content himself with that He was
a frequent visitor, and Esther MoT-
sons face took a tinge of pink, and
she gave hasty touch to her smooth
hair as she heard his voice in the
porch. She was a prim precise young
woman with fixed ideas, and Robert
Jardine was Casy-going and genial; so,
~ of n,
for one another He was a man of few
words, and it was enough for him to
stand with his back TO the fire, strok-
ing his brown beard and watching Els
Their. No one would have taken him
for a wooer, and yet, in his slow fash
ion. he was bearing down steadily on
the port of matrimony.
ITS real heartsome up yonder the
now" he said "The sole-thorn's a in
bloom in the lane. an the brides are
singin' and the lambs skippin' in the
meadow-it's real heartsome at The
Willows"
1t was not the first time Esther had
heard the charms of The Willows,
varied only by the season.
Il wouldn't wonder" she assented.
"The cOunhy's aye nice in the spring
time. Is it a good season for the
lambs Robert"
well, l haze seen better There's a
good few O them dousy enough like.
I'm no so rich the year as 1 thought
to be. Ye see, was reckonin' on get
tin the house new papered an painted
this spring, but" with a wistful glance
at her, I'm waitin'."
Esther smiled
John Robinson was askin me if
you'd a mind to sell the Black Bull
He'd give We a good price fort" He
did not look at her again, for he knew
by heart the obstinate upcast Of her
chin when he mooted this topic.
AN what for would sell the Black
Bull, Robert Jardine? Folk shouldna
be in haste to make changes. They'll
be the longer O. ruein' them"
He sighed.
"Well, l must be movin' home
though there's nobody carin mucl
what road I go. I'm missin' the ole
mother more every day"
The words touched her. She hello
out her hand, and it was lost in his.
"Some day Robert, maybe there vii
be one to watch for your hame comm
His face flushed, and he laid his
hands on her shoulder but shes drew
back.
"Oh, I'm no sayin' who it will be,
she added.
There's but one woman in the worlt
for me, an well We ken that, Esther,
he said sternly, and strobe away.
The little town among the hills wa
an uneventful spot, and sensation
were rare and precious. One of thes
was the yearly visit of signor Jacob
with his circus and menagerie. 1t wa
the market day, and crowds stoo,
gaping at the gay procession. In start
ling contrast with the ladies in yelve
and spangles was monster ape in
cage bringing up the rear. His crafty
old bewrinkled face looked out fror
between the bars, and he put fort
a stealthy hand TO seize an inquisitiv
old farmers spectacles or snatch
SWANS gay necktie. Suddenly, no on
could tell how or why, hubbub aros
-shrieks and iostling and scrimmag,
The fastenings of the apes cage ha
given way, and, with a wild dash fc
freedom, he bounded, jabbering an
chattering, over the heads of the tel
rifed crowd. Signor jacob smoke
his pipe that afternoon in the porch {
the Black Bull. The performance wa
postponed, while his troupe scattere
in quest Of the missing member.
HE has the cunning of fifty foxe
llne old Iarnn 2 he said ..LLn In