Twice-a-week plain dealer. (Cresco, Howard County, Iowa) 1895-1913, 1907-03-12

Trove went down the hills
again to school, with food and
furniture beside him in the
great wagon. He had not been happy
since he got home. Word of that even
ing with the pretty Vaughn girl" had
come to the ears of Allen.
you're too young for that, boy" said
he the day Trove came. You must
promise me one thing-that you'll keep
away from her until you are eighteen"
In every conviction Allen was like
the hills about him-there were small
changes on the surface, but underneath
they were ever the same rock boned
firm, unmoving hills.
"But I'm in love with her." said the
boy, with dignity. ut is more than
can bear. tell you, sir, that I regard
the young lady with-with deep affec-
ton" He had often a dignity Of
phrase and manner beyond his years.
"Then it will last" said Allen.
you're only boy, and for awhile
know what Is best for you"
Trove had to promise, and as that
keen edge Of his feeling wore away
doubted no more the wisdom of his ia
ther He wrote Polly letter quaint
with boyish chivalry and frankness,
one of package that has lain these
many years in old ribbons and the
scent of lavender.
He went to the Sign of the Dial us
soon as he got to Hillsborough that
day. Darrell was at home, and happy
time it was, wherein each gave account
Of the summer. A stranger sat work
| ing at the small bench. Darrell gave
him no heed, chatting as If they were
quite alone.
"And what Is the news In Hillsbor-
ough?" said Trove, his part of the story
finished.
Have We not heard?" said Darrell in
a whisper. "Parson Hammond hath
snapped horses"
Trove began to laugh.
NAY, that is not ALL" said the tinker,
his pipe in hand Deacon Swackham-
mer hath smitten the head O. Brooke.
Oh, sor, twas comedy. Brooke gave
him an i'll sounding word. Swackham-
mer removed his coat an flung it
down. Deacon, lie there, said he.
Then each began, as it were, to bruise
the head o the serpent. Brooke. poor
man, he got the worst Of it. An, sad
to tell, his wife died the very next
day."
"Of what?" Trove inquired.
Marry, do not know; it may have
been JOY" said the tinker, lighting his
pipe. "Ah, sor, Brooke is tough. He
smites the helping hand an slckens the
heart O. kindness. offered him help
an sympathy, an he made it all bitter
with suspicion o. me. turned away
an said to meself: Darrell, thy head
is soft. A babe could brain thee with
a lady's fam"
Darrell puffed his pipe in silence a
little time.
Every one hates Brooke" said
Trove.
"Well, I'd another chance to try the
good law on him." said Darrell present
ly. "In July he fell sick O. fever, an
delayed mo trip to nurse him. At
length, when he was nearly we'll an
] had come to his home one evening,
tle Widow Glover met me Mt his door.
If ye expect money fer comm here,
We better go on bout yer business
Brooke shouted from the bedroom. 4
don't need We any more, an I'll send
We bushel O. potatoes by n by. Good
day
Not a word O. thanksw the tinker
exclaimed. Wrath O God! I fear
there is but one thing would soften
him"
"And what is that?"
"a club" said Darrell. "But God for
give me! must put away anger. Soon
it Went about that Brooke was to mar.
ry the widow. All We're delighted, fol-
each party would be in the nature OF
punishment. Gods justice! They did
deserve each other"
Darrell shook with happiness and re
lighted his pipe.
"Mayhap we've seen the dear lady,
Darrell went on. "She is large, bony
quarrelsome-a weaver Of some fifty
years-neither amiable nor fair to looA