The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1903-03-06
CHAPTER VII.
THE SPRING AT THE wooD-EDGE

| THE SPRING AT THE WOOD-EDGE
"Where in the deuce did you slope
to?" inquired Joe Becraft as Rossiter
took his seat at the dinner-table when
the meal was more than half through.
81 went for a walk" replied Ros-
sitter. 81 didn't see you anywhere
about, and didn't know anyhow that
you would care to go after our long
tramp of last evening"
81 wish you'd waited an come along
with Jim an me-" said Becraft, sin
stead of pokin' off by yourself"
"Where did you go?"
"Over to Blue creek"
"Blue creek! where's that?"
] "You follow the road that passes
the house for half mile or so, an
it brings you out over big gulch
through which the creek flows. It's
fine stream. Trout in it, too, they
say
'T'll go over with you next Sun
day, if you like" said Rossiter, recog-
nizing from the description the place
where he had met Hart Dawson on
Sudy HiSHt.
Joe had seemed rather hurt by Ros-
! STEERS desertion, but was appeased
by his promise for the coming Sun
day, and when they arose from the
i dinner-table they went together into
the upper orchard for smoke. They
found comfortable spot in the long
grass, and stretched at full length,
their pipes drawing just to suit them,
the leaves rustled softly above them,
catbird in an adjacent thorn-bush
scolding and singing alternately, they
enjoyed in trimming measure the
lassitude of simply existing. By and
| by Becraft sought his cot for a nap,
emily he caught sight of Jack Par
melee near the hop-kiln, and, hailing
him, asked for the loan of something
to read. Parmelee procured him a
paper and cheap magazine, and
with these in hand he strolled to the
bottom of the large orchard. Not
seeing any nook there that took his
woodland beyond the meadow, he
| loitered towards it along a clearly
defined path that ran parallel to the
fence for some distance and then
swerved obliquely to meet an opening
in the forest. AS he neared the wood
he discovered that the ground fell
away quite abruptly, and at the base
of the declivity near the gap in the
trees (this proved to be the entrance
to an old logging-road) was the most
crystal of springs shaded by gil
gantic willow. Beneath this had been
placed a rustic seat.
"Jove!" he exclaimed, 'I've hit
| upon it this time!"
There was a glass upon fiat stone
at the brink of the spring, and Ros-
sitter refreshed himself with deep
| draught from the cool well-head.
Then he took possession of the seat,
tried several positions, and finally
leaned back with a sigh of satisfac-
ton. 1t had been days since he had
read line of print, and of reading
he had been always passionately
fond Gndeed, in his rovings he missed
books more than any other luxury.
yet he was now in no hurry to open
MAGAZINE or paper. The spot appealed
to him as so idyllic he preferred to
enjoy its sylvan beauty. Just before
| him there was short vista where
the logging-road penetrated the for
| est. Soon this woodlands highway
curved, however, so that he had M
glimpse of the heart of the wood.
The overflow from the spring, with
| it's small, timbrel-like voice, followed
the bend of the road, and on its edge
a few yards distant among the trees,
late cardinal-fower displayed it's
| scarlet robe. A woodpecker struck
up loud tattoo, squirrel suddenly
grew garrulous and then lapsed into
| silence, and far away from remote
swampy recesses came faint waii-
ing as though ployer cried.
Having brooded to his satisfaction
on his wild environment, Rossiter
| turned first to paper and then to
magazine. He was glancing with idle
curiosity at the faces of some of the
people of the day prominent in public
view when he fancied he caught the
sound of voices. Half rising, he lis
tened with intentness. Yes, that was
Miss Merton's merry chatter and Miss
Densmore's answering laugh. He
could not see them, for the ridge be-
hind him hid them from view. They
were doubtless coming to the very
place where he had been reclining,
and would be disappointed if they dis
covered the seat had an occupant. He
could not retreat along the logging
road without being noticed, and he
did not wish that they should observe
him. Just at his left, however, was a
hazel-copse that offered concealment.
1t occurred to him that he could slip
into this, and then, by making little
detour, strike the woodman's track
below where it curved. A stroll of
exploration appealed to his humor,
and he was quick to put his idea into
execution, so when the two girls ar
rived at the spring they found their
possession of it's lyric seclusion undis-
puted. After they had ensconsed
themselves comfortably upon the seat,
Miss Merton opened the book which
she had brought with her, uttering
an instant later cry of chagrin.
"How utterly stupid of mel" she
said, showing the page to her cousin,
Its the wrong story"
"Oh, never mind!" said Miss Dens-
more.
But I do mind" cried Miriam. at
was so perfectly foolish of me not to