Middletown transcript., 1903-03-07

dryadS, and she, IN Iull sym
pathy with his plans since they
two had conspired to make com
mon cause against the designs Of
an arrogant old man had clap
ped her hands in delighted ad-
miration, but had been frighten-
| ed at his daring. However, with
all her secret apprehensions she
was too tacful a woman ever to
dream of discouraging him with
a word about failure. Instead,
there were small schemes and
conspiracies innumberable Long
buggy rides to night entertain
ments atLafayette and NeWberg,
with return trips the next day,
to help fill in the lapse of time.
Then Susie Te-rill, Charles Fair
bury and other college friends
came up to the farm for a week
at a stretch, when the big, old
house would ring from moss
grown roof to basement with
shouts and music, with the clat-
ter and lisp of feet and the bang
ing of doors, till Mrs. Keating
would stop in the middle of the
floor and hold up both her hands
in feigned dismay. All these
days the rain pounded intermit-
tently against the outside of the
windows.
Spring came with its west
winds, its bud of promise, and
found the young farmer in shirt
and denim overalls, making plank
fence and watching the market.
He had subscribed for the
Daily Oregonian, an act which
curled old man Keating's lip in
scorn, for old man Keating per-
sistently refused to read news
paper, considering the practice
an evidence of weakness. Bnt
the markets were in the Oregon
ian, and a great deal of news
about fahnines abroad and the
menace of pending war in home.
That spring of '98 was in
many respects the hardest one
in the latter history Of the valley.
Orchards were laden with bloom;
the sun kissed health into the
hop vines; the earth was a veri-
table carpet of waving, tossing
wheat; but prices were hopeless
ly out at the bottom. Hop buy
ers came through the country
contracting for the seasons yield
at six cents, and they did bust
ness. Portland shippers looked
blue over the prospect of tons OF
green fruit that had already be-
gun to split the trees all over the
valley. And wheat lay dead at
thirty cents. It had not moved
for months.
There was just one big wave
that threw up a spray along the
Oregon coast that spring. When
Richard read in the papers, with
great scareheads and illustra.
tions, about the blowing up VI
the Maine in Havana Harbor and
the imminence of war, he rushed
at Helen, who was beating a cake
in the kitchen, and gave her such
an embrace as startled her out
of returning him the customary
| cuff on the ear.
What did you do that for, Mis-
ter? she demanded threatingly.
Why! he shouted, the Spaniards
have blown up the Maine at Ha
vana; we're sure to have war!
You beartless beast! declared
the girl. Isuppose you re going
to enlist at once. In fact, I hop,
you do
No, I'm not; but don't you see
/ No, don't see.
/ No? Oh, of course not. Your,
Eonly a woman. And he grabbet
| his hat, and made out of the hous,
and upon the hill where there wa
more air and room.
| Then the current of affairs raj
desperately low again in the val
| ley. The sorrows of a famin,
| abroad were eclipsed by thepr
/ pect of war athome. But Oregon
| was so far removed from the sea
ofactivity at Washington that he
farmers felt only an indifferen
concern. Moreover, their chic
| interest was centred around tn
4 price of wheat and prunes, an,
these gave forth no sign. So th
'sranchers" drove listlessly u
and down the valley, stopped an,
| talked long to each other, leanin,
upon the fences, anxious torealiz
upon their crops, but obstinatel,
waiting for the worlds market t
move first.
j They were gloomy days TO
i Richard Morrison. When b
| thought of the hundred thousan,
bushels of wheat that Law doad