Oxford eagle. (Oxford, Lafayette Co., Miss.) 1876-current, 1903-01-29

OUiSE! les, duhtic'
is Bob Hunter?" HE has
gone home"
$50 early. Why did he go?'
"He has letters to write, he said.
The old woman glanced at the girl,
anxiousIy; her eyes were dim, but she
fancied that Louise looked as II she
had been crying.
my dear" she said, softly. "Bob
is only a man-and-you wouldn't let
any sense of duty stand between
your"
The girl flushed deeply, and turned
her lovely face toward her questioner.
"No, auntie, don't worry, it isn't
question of duty"
81 thought perhaps-Bob is so close
he would object to me, and | wouldnt I,
not for the world, keep you apart.
The poorhouse has no terrors for me
not if it makes you happy"
''You have queer notion of what
would make me happy. No, you are
all / have left, and we'll 'bide wee
together
And the girl pressed her soft cheek
against the one so old and wrinkled.
"It's hard" murmured the old aunt.
First there was the old father and
mother you nursed so long, and now
there's me-and he's a likely lad as
ever was. He'll be rich, some day"
Eyes" said the girl, quietly. Il
know it. He's made of the stuff that
produces rich men. Let us forget him,
for he is not of our world"
"But / hoped" persisted the old
woman, sadly, "that he might lift you
at least, up to his world. You work
so hard, you are only a girl. Your life
ought to have been so different"
"His world is not above mine," ex-
claimed Louise, earnestly; sit is far
below. l do not care to step down.
Never mention this again, auntie,
please"
But when the winter of snow and
rain set in, and Louise had to plod
back and forth mile through the
storm to the little millinery store,
where she was hired at rs cents day,
the old woman more than once
brought up the name of her old-time
lover.
Hes gone to the CITY," she said, one
day, getting a salary that would
make us rich, one year of it."
Louise, pale and weary, answered
nothing, but the old woman contin-
ued, plaintively:
"Now, if it hadn't been for me you'd
n been living like queen. Seems
: like instead of helping you, as l want
to, I only take all your hopes away.
Dear, dear, how long do live?"
"Hush." said the girl, sternly.
"How unkind you are! You are all
/ have in the world. You are all have
ever had since-since they went
away"
you're 25," said the old woman,
softly, you're the ,prettiest girl for
miles around. always thought"
"Td marry Well, I won't" an
swered Louise, brightly, "for I'm de-
termined to be an old maid"
Bob Hunter had been in the city 20
years. He was no longer known as
Bob, but as Robert Hunter, the mil
lionaire.
He had friends, such as they were,
astute business financiers like him
self; servants who ran at his bidding,
but not one person in the whole world
who loved him.
Even the little errand boys knew
him for what he was, hard, cold and
uncharitable. They were paid their
stipulated prices, never a cent more.
This world and this life was only a
place to live long in, in order to grow
rich and richer.
He seldom recalled. his old country
home; there were no ties there to
hold him. Only, sometimes there
came q fleeting memory of fair
young face, the one face in the world
he had turly loved.
"She was a little fool" he would
mutter; "she's been a martyr long
enough. l didn't propose to saddle
myself with that old aunt. Well.
she chose her way, hope she's en-
joyed it,"
Accident brought back his old
home yividly at last. There was a
railroad running through that part
of the country that he desired to buy.
"I'll run out there a few days" he
said; "it will be prudent to do so, and
/ wonder how the old place looks by
this time. anyway. Nobody will rec
ognize me, l dare say"
But they did; the newspapers had
heralded his name, and the old neigh
bors who remembered him as a boy
wanted TO see the great man he had
become.
A number of old friends, as they
were pleased to call themselves. under
took to show him around and to point
out the improvements that 20 years
had brought about
There was a new courthouse, a new
iail and lastly fine large building
lately erected for the county poor.
Bob did not care copper cent to be
shown any of these affairs, but he had
his own reasons for being civil, hence
he permitted himself to be dragged
bither and thither and at last actually
found himself inside the handsome
new poorhouse.
"The matron will show us through -
said the obsequious friend. ''Who
knows but you may run across some
of your old acquaintances," he added,
with light laugh.
In one of the large halls they passed
a woman bending over little child,
who was sobbing bitterly. The WON
an sat in low-armchair, and her face
was hidden, but the mass of brown