The Marion daily mirror. (Marion, Ohio) 1892-1912, 1908-02-29

hsard Lydtn burst on. with the cry he
had so long been dreading.
"Oh. gran'dad, oh. gran'mother," !"
she pleaded. "if only I could go for
little spell an try II! I knc v could
do well,--l feel II in mean Id so
love to help you pay off that mortgage
on Stony-Lonesome that gives you SO
much bother every year!'
Seeing their faces OF denial, she
would not give them time to speak.
but went on hastily: AN I'D come
back every summer, for sure! Oh.
1t will break my heart to leave you,
/ know but my heart seems Just
bursting to go, too. An you both know
Id come back when you got old an
needed me; an then I'd stay with you
always."
"Lyddy. Lyddy,' exclaimed her
grandmother in a quivering voice,
don't we need you now, an all the
time? Think what It would be for
us II you took away the only sun.
shine that's left for us I'm Stony-Eone.
some? As fur the mortgage, it amt
nothing!"
But John Cassidy turned to the
man. What do you know" he
asked harshly, of the awful dangers,
an the scarlet iniquities, an all the
wrongs an woes that crushes the
soul in city? How fur have ye ever
been from Brine settlement"
mo furder n Halifax, Mr.. Cassidy"
said Job cheerfully, "'cept maybe
round the world onc't or twict when I
was lad an followed the seal"
He paused in pardonable triumph; !;
but as John Cassidy had no answer
on his tongue, he went on: AN I've
found human natur pretty much the
same everywheres. reckon tain't
no worse in Bawston than in Brine
settlement. all in ALI"
You know" began Lydia excited
ly, now, while you an gran dad have
each other, an SO well an strong, and
-and-young, in fact, now's the time
for me to 60"
But at this point the look in her
grandfathers face stopped her right
short, her sentence dangling weakly
In the air. Could he be little-just
a little-"touched" on the subject of
Boston? she wondered. At least, she
would drop the subject for the pres
ent, and await more auspicious hour
for resuming 1t. AS she came to this
conclusion, her grandmother spoke
again.
You're so young yet. Lyddy. Sure
ly you can stay bit longer In the
old nest. Hain't the old folks got
some claim on you yet?" she pleaded.
And Lydia, still glancing furtively
and uneasily at her grandfather's face,
replied: Yes, dear. We won't talk
any more about 1t now, NOT this sum.
mer at ALL she added, with sudden
resolution, followed by sigh.
John Cassidy could not trust him.
self to speak on the subject, so he
proceeded to give Job directions about
the afternoons work. Dinner was
done. and Lydia set herself to clear.
ing the table.
John Cassidy wandered aimlessly
about the kitchen, cutting his tobacco
and filing his black clay pipe, till
Lydia, having mixed a dish of potatoes
and cornmeal, went out to feed coop
of chickens back of the barn. Then
he stood still in front of his wife.
"Oh, John. how are we goin' to keep
her to home without maxim her feel
as how she's in prison?" moaned
Mrs. Cassidy, rocking herself to and
fro
That's the trouble, Marthy." said
he, slowly. Il can't bear to make her
feel that way. An she sees other
girls goin'! An oh. the rovin' spirits
in her blood! We must git her more
books, an let her go round more an
have good time. | hain't quite un-
derstood her in the past. maybe"
But she'll want to go next winter,
John. An we'll have to let her go,
or she'll git to hate Stony-Lonesome
an fret herself to DEATH
III see her dead said John Cas-
sidy slowly through white lips. 'afore
III let her go!" Then the fire