Waterbury evening Democrat., 1903-05-14

 ton in regard to her after-thought of her hop-picking life. Tears start ed into her eyes. Had he come to say good-by to her, as she surely ex- pected that he would, she had meant to extend to him a cordial invitation to call upon her in Illica, and some thing in her heart told her he would have come. Now she felt that in all likelihood she should never see him again. He had not revealed to her his home-or the place that he had once called home; she had gath cred that it was one of the large eastern cities, and that he was re- turning thither to begin life anew, that was all. The chapter seemed to her irrevocably closed.
 At length she rose, lighted can dle and unfolded the crumpled scrap of paper. "Good-by. God bless you," she read, and then his sigma ture-tPhilip Rossiter.'' She extin- guished the candle, and going to the window looked long at the sky and, the fast-thickening stars. Then she walked to the bureau, opened one of the drawers and taking therefrom little box of Venetian glass which held some treasured trinkets, snapped back the lid and laid the pa- per caressingly among them. I After his plunge out of the bushes I Rossiter hurried up the field, crossed into the upper orchard, and made his way to the sleeping quar- ters of the men. What he had just seen and heard had suddenly disi solved the resolution and purpose that had been daily taking hrnaer and more definite shape since he left aI the freight-train that night at Illiea. Life never would, never could, hold I auGht for him. What he had recent 4 Iy experienced proved this but too 4 plainly. He was fool to think that he could ever be anything but vagabond. He would take to the road again. Hastily he put his few T belongings together and strode to the door. There he paused. Should he leave without 8 word to any one? The love in his heart flooded over him like great wave as his mind revert ed to Miss Densmore. No, he wouIo somehow contrive to send a good Il by to her. It was g crowning piece oi folly, perhaps, doubtless, for it would mean nothing to her, but he would indulge in it nevertheless. It would be his final tribute on the now shat. tered altar of hope--the shrine which he had so unwittingly reared. T ! He remembered to have seen Joe Becraft that morning slip small pencil into g vest hanging upon a chair near his cot The garment was still there. He took out his brothers letter, tore off at the crease a little strip upon which there was no writ ing, and in the dim light traced his words of adieu. He then replaced the pencil, thrust the folded mes sage into his pocket and rending in scraps the remainder of the letter, scattered the fragments upon the grass as he stepped from the door.
 There's an end of thatl" he said.
 In the hop-kiln, by dull lantern light, some of the pickers were hav- ing last impromptu merry-making to the wheezy music of mouth-or- gan played by one of their number. Among the dancers was Joe Becraft. It had been Rossiter's intention to bid him good-by, but he saw that he could not do so without encountering many others, so with 8 consciousness of real regret he turned away. As he came to the end of the barn he deserted Jack Parmelee's familiar figure moving towards the house. Here was the very man for his pur- pose. He hailed him.
 ''Mr. Parmeleel" he called.
 !, The farm manager halted.
 "Oh, it's you!" he said, as Rossiter drew near. Whats up?" He had re- marked the pole-puller's bundle.
 "I'm off," said Rossiter. ''I've changed my mind about waiting till morning. If I hurry I think I can catch the Hintonville train, but I can't wait to say good-by to every one. Won't you make my adieus to Mir. and Mrs. Merton and Miss Merton and to the Becrafts,-I'm very sorry not to see them all.-and would you be kind enough to give this to Miss Densmore?"
 He held out the slip of paper with it's penciled words. Parmelee took 1t.
 "Why, certainly, to be sure," he said. "But you'd better wait. In deed, wish you'd stay right on. We need just such a mansas you. MT. Merton'd give you good wages, you know"
 "It's very kind of you. MT. Mer- ton spoke about it, but I must go,' answered Rossiter, holding out his hand
 'tWell, you'll come next year?'' said Parmelee, giving him a hearty grip. 'I'n keep a place for you, if you say so."
 1T can't promise" Rossiter replied. "Thanks just the same"
 Parmelee watched Rossiter stride out of the gate and. take the Hinton vile road.
 There's chap can't make out, ' he muttered as he walked towards the house.
 Rossiter recalled that half way to Hintonville there was a highway branching towards the west. When he reached this he took it without