Middletown transcript., 1903-07-25
COUSIN PAUL

Teu lips qulVoFeu, anu 1iiO oio"
eyes looked into the lads fac
piteously-that it would be darl
before they found me. And
am so tired.
Poor little girl! You are tot
weary to walk home; but my boa
is just down there-and the boy
pointed to the sands-and II
row you across the bay to oul
house and send a man to tell your
father that you are safe, and tina
he must send a carriage for you
| Oh, that will be delightful
How very kind you are! she de
clared. Then, with a radian
smile, she asked, What is youl
name? -
The boy hesitated a moment
then he gave a rather embarrass
ed laugh.
They call me Paul, he replied
Paul-what? :
Paul Sullivan.
How odd! Why, your name is
the same as mine! Inever knew
there were any Sullivans but cur.
selves in this neighborhood. 1t
was evident from the naughty
surprise in the child's voice that
she was disposed to regard the
discovery in the light of a lib
erty.
That is very likely. I don't
suppose any of your people
would be likely to recognize the
existence of two such insignifi-
can't persons as my mother and
myself, Paul answered coolly.
However it is a fact. We live
and have done so for some years
at the Hazel Farm.
Hilda regarded him with cur.
ious expression of disappoint-
ment and surprise.
A farmer! Ithoughtyou were
gentleman! she declared con
temptuously.
Can't I be both, Miss Hilda?
Is it impossible for a farmer to
be a gentleman? Paul inquired.
Of course! Farmers are COM
mon kind of people. They plough
and dig, have coarse hands, and
wear rough clothes, and their
wives stand in the market with
great baskets of butter and eggs.
| should never have thought that
you were a farmer. And Hilda
looked critically at the tall ath-
letic figure IN its we'll fitting suit
of tweed. You don't look like
one.
I haven't been long in the bus
mess, you see, he replied, laugh
ing. After I left school, my
mother sent me to study chemis-
try for a year or two, and I only
came home last June. Idare say
in a year or two I shall come up
more to your notions of a farmer
than I do now. Well-shall we
go? 1t is past our tea time now.
You have lost your hat, I see. |
Will you have my handkerchief |
to tie round your head?
No, thank you! Tell me-and |
Hilda looked up curiously into
MS lace as she walked by his
side across the downs-tell me
what you were talking about
when saw you first! I heard
you say something about giant
and his beautiful wives. We're
you making up fairy tale?
No! Paul laughed and colored;
then he pointed over his shoulder
10 the barrow. I was lamenting
over the destruction of some of
ny childish fancies. I used to
call that hillock the giants grave
md to fancy that a giant and his
beautiful golden-haired wives
we're buried there with treasures
# gold, silver and jewels. I
irmly believed this; but last week
party of archeologists came
lown from London and opened
he barrow, and they found
What?
Not my grand old giant, but
The skeletons of a short squat
nan and two women similar in
ouild, few arrowheads, and a
Kind of tomahawk. Just fancy!
and Paul turned his laughing
Eyes on his companion. They
lad been buried there for more
han three thousand years. Now
what right had those dry-as-dust
to come with their
)icks and shovels and disturb
hat resting-place and carry off
he skulls and arrowheads to
tick in their musty old studies?
Poor old chief! They might have
eft him in peace! II
1t couldn't make any difference
o him now, you know, Hilda said
)hiloSODhicallv. remember the