The Irish standard. [volume] (Minneapolis, Minn. ;) 1886-1920, 1905-12-02
CHAPTER XIV.
RoYHoop 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. lie had returned to Greenvalc
with n vague idea of remaining there,
IL Angie had not forgotten, and still
smiled upon him; then, II certain pos
sibilitcs came about, to build q mod
ern house on the site of the old home
stead now owned by him, and for
amusement to establish q trout pre-
serve. IT. waa all a nebulous plan,
and somehow his first evenings eX-
pcricncc and later meeting with Angie
had partially dispelled that A few,
years had wrought great changes
| her old fOndncss for him had van.
fshed and he feared that he was all
most forgotten. 1t was not pleasant.
nor what liz had secretly hoped, and
yet it seemed II fact.
His carly haunts that he now Wis,
tied for the first time since his re,
| turn also read him a lesson of change
and bitterswcet memory. There was
the old house, so shocking in its
rnck-and-,'uin condition, the woodshed
where he used to hide his fish poles
and traps, and beside it the old pear
tree. The woOdshed seemed q mere
| coop now, and he smiled at sight OF
| that grindstone he used SO to abhor.
| Old memories might be saddening, as
they were, but at least he was not
likely to be called upon to turn grim
1,on
broken
Then came the garden, with IT.
wall hid by grape-vines, VIZ.
with vexed spirit, had been ma :. T.,
pull pusley, year after year, alt. -
ways, 1t seemed, when he wanted to
go fishing. Here he had usually dug
for angle-worms-a pleasnnter 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 suct slender whips,
as mother had used around his bare
legs with such cheering effect, still
grew from its 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
filled, to ride on 1t to the cider mill
and "holler" to the patient oxen. And
then 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 1t 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 keen
bunch of nice white s&raws hid
away, waiting for her, and when she
appeared, his heart used to beat a
little faster.
As he retraced his steps toward the
village after a morning of gloomy
memories, 1t seemed as If fate meant
to be kind, for just ahead he espied
Angie entering the by-road from a
pasture. She wore the same broad sun
hat of the day before, carried pail,
and had evidently been after berries.
With quick steps Martin had almost
reached her. when she halted and
faced about.
"Why, how you scared mel" she OK
claimed, looking relieved.
Ito BE Continpedl