Five Mile Beach weekly journal., 1906-10-17
CHE OIL d
BEECH TREE


Hayward Cook sat in his Office in the
old homestead of his family. Fifteen
years before he had left it, large
brick house standing In a four acre lot
about five miles from what had since
become Il great city. suburb had
been established taking in his prop
erty, and he had had offers for 1t from
time to time, which he had declined,
but now an offer had come SO far be-
yond the rest that he considered it
worth while to go and look into It,
Taking a train, he went to the city
near which his property was located
and on alighting at stone station that
had taken the place of the frame one
he had known as boy turned cor
ner to find the omnibus that used to
take passengers In the direction he
wished to go. Instead he found trolley
cars, car starting every few. minutes
instead of the twice day trips for
merly made by the omnibus. Entering
a car, in half an hour he was at Ridge
wood, the name given to the suburb he
sought, and alighted at real estate
office. The agent met him at the door
and began an effort to induce him to
part with his property.
II don't want to sell the old place."
said Cook. i've always thought that
when 1 got through with my present
business I'd come back and enjoy my
quiet home"
Homer said the agent. you
wouldn't want to live in a house with
trolley cars running by 1t all day and
all night, hospital backing up against
you and q noisy school on the opposite
corner"
This staggered the owner. and he
said he would go and have look for
himself The agent offered to drive
him there, but he declined. The truth
is he dreaded to have witness pres
ent when he inspected the house and
grounds where he had spent happy
youth. He started alone and on foot
and found the place just as 1t had been
described. There was the familiar
house dingy with age and the grounds
full of sapllngs that had grown up
about the roots of the larger trees
The summer house was falling to
pieces, and the well house had entire
ly disappeared. He entered the for
mer and stood among the ruins. On
that seat now rotten and partly fallen
he had sat beside Lucy Dean the even
ing before he went away and told her
that some day he would come back
rich man and they would be married
Lucy had long been put In the back
ground, while he had been engaged in
fierce struggle to make himself rich
He turned away from this corpse of
his former home, resolved that he
would sell 1t. There was or had been
q wood about half a mile up what had
been the road-it was now the street
near where Lucy had lived and In
which they had often played as chill
dren. He well remembered that he
had cut his name and Lucy's on the
bark of a beech tree there, and he
wondered If any trace Of it was left.
The suburb had not yet taken In the
wood, though there were several houses
built on the street at different parts of
1t. Cook looked about for landmarks
that would point to the tree he sought
and finally found it In the back yard
Of one of the houses. Climbing a fence,
he entered the ground and went to its
base. Looking up, he could family dis
tinguish his initials and those of Lucy
Dean cut eighteen years ago.
In a moment the busy life that had
formed through years barrier be-
tween him and his little love seemed to
him like a mist borne away ON the
wings of the wind.
A colored servant came out of the
house, and he called to her She ap-
preached, and he said
81 wonder If your master would sell
this tree?"
II only got mistress, an she won't
sell dat tree 70 sartin, sure"'
"Why not?'
my mistress had a lover when she
war u leetle gala no count fella', l
reckon. He cut his an her letters OBJ
de names on de bark oh dat tree.
When he went away he promised to
come back to her, an he hain't nebber
come Don't t'ink he WORT frettin'
bout"
Cook stood looking at her stupidity
for awhile, then he asked:
as your mistress at home2"
"Yas, but it won't do no good to try
tO brv dat traa -ha won't sell II To