Middletown transcript., 1908-10-03
SOUTH BRANCH FARM
BY REBEcCA HARDING DAVIS

seated upon the steps, a basket
Of red peaches beside her. which
the boarder had brought down
from his room.
He was q young man, a teacher
in a Virginia country school,
who had come up to these hills,
geologizing in his summer yaca-
ton.
| brought them from the
Mcbride farm, Mrs. Taney, he
said. They are a very common
kind in the Shenandoah Valley,
handing them to her.
Mrs. Taney's thin features
grew warm.
I remember a tree just like
these at home, she said, by the
old min. My old nurse used to
hold me up to pull them for my
self.
Your little girl tells me you
came from Fauquier County. It
is a fine county.
1t is the most beautiful in the
world! said Mrs. Taney.
She stopped and went in
hastily. She felt the tears chok-.
ing her. She could hear Mr..
Burke tell the child that his
school was in Fauquier, and that
he had often passed her grand
fathers house. Tt was for sale
now, with a dozen acres about it;
would sell very cheaply, no
doubt. Land had deprecated
since the war.
A quiet, comfortable little
homes tead, too, he said, as any
in the State.
Mrs. Taney paused in her
work.
Oh, if I could only show it to
Lefty! she said to herself. The
dear old farm! The sunny
porches and the Bourbon roses,
and the great caks, centuries old!
She never had spoken of her old
home to her other children; bu
to Lefty she had talked of it very
often, when they were alone.
Lefty was like herself-the others
were all Taneys.
She came to the door.
Do you know, Mr.. Burke, if
there is an old negro on the place
a gardener?
Uncle Tod? Oh, everybody
knows the old man! And his
stories about the Clevelands, de
family, as he calls them.
We were the Clevelands. And
old Tod is really living yet? She
laughed for the first time in a
year.
When Lefty had gone in, MIR
Burke paced up and down the
porch. He was a manly, large
natured young fellow, and his
heart ached with pity for the
poor, pinched lives of this child
and her mother. All he could
do to show them kindness was to
lend books to Lefty, which she
devoured eagerly, for she was
fond of reading; in fact, she had
obstinately persisted in staying
at the free school until she had
educated herself.
William Taney waited until the
young man had gone, and then
went into the pantry, where his
mother was straining the last
crock of milk. Something in his
manner made her set it down,
trembling.
You have bad news to tell? she
said.
No, with an uneasy, strident
laugh. Most folks count it good.
Fact is, mother, I've made up
my mind to marry
Oh, William! her old cheeks
coloring.
I made up my mind three
months ago. And the girls
courted, and the weddings to be
to- morrow. There now! No need
for you to look in that way. I'm
generally pretty close, mouthed
about my own business; you
might know that. And | didn't
choose to have the m a tt er
cackled over at home. The girls
Miss Sophy Crawford.
His mother came toward him.
He was her son, after all, and
this was the turnlng-point of his
life. She put her arms about
him and kissed him. God bless
you, my boy! she said.
He stood immovable as a log.
Don't let's have any fuss, he
said. You'd better sit down.
You're shaking all over. There'll
be no wedding hubbub here. I |
don't hold to spending money in
feeding a lot Of guzzling fools.
The Crawfords are to have reg