The Plymouth tribune. (Plymouth, Ind.) 1901-1911, 1904-09-22

and the money would provide me with
food and lodging on the way. | had no
conception of the road, but / resolved
that L would take the one down which
had seen her disappear. She said that
she understood that to be the right one.
would follow in her steps.
| The day was just dawning when l
came upon large. old-fashioned village.
| Unused to violent exercise, and exhaust
ed for want of food, for 4 had eaten
nothing since dinner time the day before,
my steps began to flag. ! looked round
some place to rest; there was no sign
of life in any of the houses-all seemed
buried in sleep. l walked slowly on
until came to little swing gate, which
led to the village churcb-an ancient
looking building, embossed in trees.
Here, | thought, is a quiet spot where
1 can rest a little while. l opened the
gate. and passed through.
1t was a pretty, quiet spot. 1 could
not have found a better for an hours
rest. There was a heavy dew upon the
long grass, so l stretched myself upon a
high, fat tombstone, and placed my bum
die beneath my head. I was very weary,
and in spite of the cold air of the dawn,
that made me shiver, fell fast asleep,
with the twittering of the waking birds
sounding in my ears.
| When | awoke the sun was shining
brightly, and the birds were in full song.
For q moment / could not comprehend
my position. / sat up and looked round,
but my doubts were only of a second.
Then | knelt down against my stone
bed and offered up thanksgiving for
my deliverance. and fervent prayer
| for my future safety.
When / rose from my knees 1 became
conscious that | was not alone. Seated
upon a tomb a little distance from me,
and attentively watching me, was an
old gentleman dressed like a respecta-
BILE farmer.
"Good morning young man." he said,
in a CHEEKY voice; you've had rather a
cold bed, I'm thinking. L suppose you've
been travelling all night?"
"Yes. sir" | answered. From Bury"
"Why, that isn't more than ten milesi
You should have had a little more sleep
in your bed, my lad. and have started
about this time Enough to give you
your death of cold to lie out here and go
| TO sleep in the dew. You don't look
very strong, either. Wherever you're
| going, you won't get on now till you've
had bit of breakfast"
l colored up at the mention of break
fast. | had not farthing of money,
and until l could dispose of the con-
tents of my bundle, I could not procure
a mouthful. 1 thanked him, took up my
bundle, wished him good morning and
turned to go.
4 cfo har 10 ha
called out.
| advanced few steps nearer to him.
He scrutinized me more carefully than
ever, with the expression of a man who
was about to make a proposition Of
doubtful prudence.
Here, here! you shall come and break
fast with me-" he said, after minutes
pause. II like the look of you, and /
don't think you're tramp"
/ thanked him very much for his kind
ness, which, under the circumstances. /
certainly had not strength of mind
enough to decline. We left the church
yard and proceeded down lovely green
lane canopied with trees.
Il always rise at FIVE" said the old
| gentleman. as we walked along; land,
unless it is very bad weather. take
walk as far as the churchyard. It's
been my custom for many years. and,
suppose, will continue to be so until some
morning l am carried there, never to
come back again. Nothing like exercise,
however, and the early morning air.
to delay that little event; but not sleep
ing on tombstones," he added, with a
laugh.
After about ten minutes walk we
stopped before a dor in high garden
wall, which my conductor opened with a
key, and facing us at the end of a gar
den path was the prettiest cottage had
ever seen, very old-fashioned, and en-
tirely covered with roses and wo0dbines,
that loaded the whole air with delicious
perfume. The garden was beautifully
laid out in flower beds; on one side was
a grape house. on the other a conserva-
tory, filed with the most brilliant col
ored plants. The rays of the morning
sun were slanting brightly across the
scene, and imparting to it the most
joyously cheerful air.
"How different to the house 1 have
just leftr' 1 thought.
Pretty place, isn't it?" said the old
gentleman.
"Sweetly pretty" murmured.
He led the way into a little low
rooted room, darkened by the overhang-
!. ing blossoms that hung thickly over the
. latticed window. 1t was comfortably,
indeed, handsomely, furnished. The table
was laid for breakfast A second cup
and saucer and plate were soon produced
by kind-loeking, middle-aged woman,
; and 1 was soon sitting before substan-
tial meal of eggs and bacon, and cold
beef, to be washed down by plenty of
strong coffee. Never had food been so
grateful to me before, and l certainly
lid ample justice to it l could per-
! Give that my host every now and then
last curious glance at me, as though
. presented something Of a puzzle to him.
Now, if l might be permitted TO haz-
, ard a guess, / should fancy you were
something in the parson line," hs said.
leaning back in his chair.
, / disclaimed the honor.
II We'll, it was the long hair and the
queer-looking black clothes that put that
idea into my head; and you look so seri-
Gus for a lad OF your years. I have it.
You're a school usher"
:. l confessed that his last guess was
correct.
"Ah. poor fellow! No wonder you
! look so miserablew he said, compassion
ately. 1T must be hard life. and a
! badly paid one: and l suppose you've
! left your place? Where are you going
, now?
III 81 am going to the city,"
Il You've friends there. / suppose?
81 have one, sir, who think will helE