St. Tammany farmer. [volume] (Covington, La.) 1874-current, 1902-02-15
ONE
SU NJ Err
BY JULIA TRvIrT BISHOP.
Copyrighted b. Daily Story Pub. Co.,

IT HE brook was there, and the
nook. He had smilingly looked
around and reminded himself of it
few moments ago; and had reminded
himself, too, with distinct irritation,
that the entire summer had passed,
and there were no kisses of his on the
red lips in question. Yet by all the
laws of precedent there should have
been; for he was a young man of the
world, versed in much strange lore,
and she was simple country girl in
that, he was spending the summer
in the country, and she was his land
1ady's niece. He was probably the
first gentleman she had ever seen. He
had read the story of it in a hundred
novels-the country girl falling in
love with the trifer from over the
hills, and watching him ride away at
the summers end. He could almost
have told, little earlier, what every
new development of this especial
story would be; but now-he was not
So sure.
And there were the volumes of
poetry he had read to her-were they
all to be of no effect? And those sto-
Ties of which he was the hero?
"You are a very tantalizing young
lady," he said, with an injured air,
supporting himself on his elbow as
he lay at full length on the bank.
She sat on the log near him and fold
ed the ruffle on her pink dress into
methodical little creases.
Il don't know why" she said, shyly.
Neither do T." he retorted, with
smile on his lips and shadow on
his brow. you women are all alike
there's touch of devil on every
one Of you"
A look of steady inquiry was in her
eyes. He was almost sure she had
spoken.
You get a fellows heartstrings
wrapped around your fingers" he
went on, with increasing bitterness,
land then you twist and tear them,
just to see him writhe."
'.And you think I've done that?"
asked the simple country girl, with
slow fiush-or was it the reflection of
the dress creeping into her cheeks.
'.How can you ask such ques-
fion?" he demanded, modify. "What
have you been doing all this summer
but making me love you-and head
ing me on to make a fool of myself?"
She was beginning to rise, but he
put out his hand and stayed her. He
had caught the look in her shy, Wild
wood eyes.
"Ah, but you don't know what
fool I have been!" he cried, desper
ately. "What right has man like
me to love q little country wild
flower? His life and surroundingS
and his friends and associates and
habits all call him another way-you
know they do, little girl!-just as
your life calls you to marry some
farmer and tend house and make but
ter for him. How I shall hate him
when he comes! If fate were only
kinder to us"
81 don't know what you mean by
fate" said the country girl, with her
eyes on his. "Do you mean that it
were rich girl you might-you
might think of marrying me?"
It was her blunt, nncultivated way Of
stating the proposition that brought
the blood to his cheeks. And yet, how
pretty she was-how very pretty!
81 have thought of marrying you a
thousand times" he cried, eagerly.
"This whole summer long l have been
dragged hither and thither-for what
sane man could be with you and not
love YOU? But / am not rich man,
little girl-you must see how it is.
Don't you see how I am placed?''
It appeared that the little country
girl was somewhat slow in perceiying