Barbour County index. [volume] (Medicine Lodge, Kan.) 1880-current, 1904-12-07
CHAPTER XIV.
BOYHOOD MEMORIES:

Living over bygones is about as
consoling as an epitaph in a cemetery,
AS Martin learned when he set about
business examination of the old
farm. He had returned to. Greenvale
with vague idea of remaining there.
il Angie had not forgotten, and still
smiled upon him; then, if certain pos
sibilities came about, to build a. mod
ern house on the site Of the old home
stead now owned by him, and for
amusement to establish a trout pre-
serve. 1t was all a nebulous plan,
and somehow his first evenings ex-
perience and later meeting with Angie
had partially dispelled that. A few
years had wrought great changes
her old fondness for him had van
ished, and he feared that he was al
most forgotten. 1t was not pleasant,
nor what he had secretly hoped and
yet it seemed a fact.
His early hauntS that he now WIS.,
tied for the first time since his re-
turn also read him a lesson of change
and bitter-sweet memory. There was
the old house, SO shocking in it's
where he used to hide his fish poles
and traps, and beside it the old pear
tree. The woodshed seemed a mere
coop now, and he smiled at sight of
that grindstone he used SC to abhor.
Old memories might be saddening, as
they were, but at least he was not
likely to be called upon to turn grin
stun" again until his back seemed
broken.
Then came the garden, with it's low
wall hid by grape-yines, where he,
with vexed spirit, had been made to
pull pusley, year after year, and al
ways, it seemed, when he wanted to
go fishing Here he had usually dug
for angleWorms-a pleaSanter oc-
cupation; and when midsummer came,
how good those crisp green cucum-
bers used to taste! Beyond was the
apple orchard. and, as he entered it
again, one tree, to which he had many
times been sent to cut sprouts to be
used later on, on himself, caught his
attention. 1t was old and almost dead
now, but OF just such slender whips,
as mother had used around his bare
grew from it's trunk. And what a
delight it had been, in the mellow
autumn, to shake those trees and pick
up apples, and when the cart was
filed. to ride on it to the cider mill
and ''holler' to the patient oxen. And
them the cider making! The old horse
walking slowly around pulling the
sweep, the many-colored apples dis
appearing in the hopper, the men
folks heaping pumice on, the press,
and when the cider began, to run; how
delicious it tasted through a straw,
Angie used to come here with other
girls, on their way from school, and
how pretty she used to look in her
calico sunbonnet, her hair in. one
| long braid falling in her way as she
stopped over to suck cider out of the
| little rill that ran around the press.
Martin recalled how he used to keep
| q bunch of nice white straws hid
away. waiting for her, and when she
appeared, his heart psed to beat a
| little faster.
1t was all delightful memory, that
| apple gathering and cider making, and
| ne Always TeSre[teO Wn6n ITS season
| was over.
AS he retraced his steps. toward the
| village after a morning OF gloomy
| memories, it seemed as if fate meant
10 be kind. for Just ahead he espied
| Angie entering the by-road from a
| pasture. She wore the same broad sun
lat CT the day before, carried a pail.
| and mad evidently been after berries.
With quick steps Martin had almost
faced about.
Why, how you scared mel" she ex-
claimed, looking relieved.
Ito Be Continued