The Washburn times. [volume] (Washburn, Wis.) 1896-1976, 1909-08-19
THE PARSONS THIEF


held from the window something white
moving in the garden.
| AS Alltons garden was a vegetable
garden. he thought fearfully of some
| thing sinfully trampling on his salads,
| and he rose hastily. Standing just be-
| hind the window shutter he decided,
| however, that a dog would be shorter, a
! horse taller, and he did not believe i'll
| ghosts.
He went into the hall, took his hat
from the rack and stepped softly over
| the threshold.
AS his footsteps sounded on the gravel
of the path the white object moved from
| the middle of the garden and fed He
heard the click of the gate and then 81
lence.
''Hum!' unused the rector, and bent
over his lettuce bed. "a thief" he said
as he Strengthened up.
The next morning a fuller inveStiga'
ton showed that there had been depre-
dations of onions and radiSheS. But the
minister said nothing to his housekeep--
! er. Common thieves do not come CARRIED
in white, nor ere they of slender outline
and graceful.
The rector had NO unusual powers of
penetration, but it had not taken him
many moments to decide that the spoiler
of his garden was woman.
'But why" he debated the next night
woman steal-a lady, am sure, by the
grace Of her carriage-why should she
steal my little onions and my lettuce?'
But all the wisdom of the Scriptures
did not answer his question. And after
his sermon was finished, he again turned
out his light and sat in the darkness of
his study.
And again, as he unused, he saw a
patch of white at the end of the garden.
Breathless he watched, and closer and
closer came the ghostly figure, until it
stood just beneath his window.
Then a voice said: Il have come to
pay for the vegetables"
'Oh!' His usual readiness Of speech
had forsaken the. clergyman. "Oh. L
beg your pardon"
mo, you needn't beg it," the voice
said again. Il picked some lettuce and
things last night, and here is the money.
1t wasn't a very conventional way to
go to market, but we wanted salad,
and"
The rector, peering over the sill,
caught the sparkle in her eyes as she
made her half apology.
You needed your salad late" he said.
dryly.
'.Ah,'' her little laugh rippled out.
Think of my predicament. Some peo
pie came on the last train-hungry, and
there was nothing in the house but eggs.
You see, l am such new housekeeper
we came only yesterday-and Susanna,
my maid, forgets to tell me when things
are done, and the shops are SO far away
so, while she made an omelette, flew
into your garden-and-and flew back,
and no one was the wiser"
Il saw you," the rector informed her,
land | thought you were thief"
oh" There was little gasp. ut
did look like it, didn't it? But you see
l have brought the money!" and the sill
yer glittered on the sill as she spread it
out before him.
NO" the rector protested, "you are
perfectly welcome to anything you care
to take"
'Oh,. but you must there was a
note of alarm in her voice, because
should feel as if I had stolen if 1 am
not allowed to pay"
He was smiling down at her. 'You
can pay me by giving me a rose from
your garden" he said.
why don't you have roses of your
own?' she demanded.
He sighed II hardly dare allow my
self the luxury. 1t is cheaper to raise
ones vegetables than to buy them"
Il suppose" doubtfully, ''that your
living is not a very good one!'
No, but there are donations" his
eyes twinkled.
up at him. The moonlight touched her
hair with gold. Gerald Allton's pulses
began to beat.
May l come over some time and |
walk with you in your rose garden?" he
asked.
Come now,' was the quick response. |
He went; and it was the beginning of
friendship.
He is lovely" Constance confded to
her aunt, who had come up to her
niece's country house for the purpose
of chaperonage. "And he's in this vii
lage because he feels that he is needed |
here"
Constance" the aunt warned, "don't |
get romantic over country parson."
He has the dearest little cottage"
Constance unused, with a vegetable gar
den. He sends over tomatoes and pars-
ley, and / put roses in his buttonhole. |
It's very interesting" she sighed.
. 1T may be tragic for him."
IF you made him love you-what |
''Well?', Constance's tone was def
ant.
You can't marry anyone but Herbert |
Wilcox"
Constance's eyes flashed. st can! If |
my Inheritance. | don't deny that / |
love this old house, Aunt Anne. But
did it ever occur to you that [ might |
prefer a man to fortune"
You would miss the fortune" was |
the quiet answer. ''You were not made |
for love in a cottage, Constance
But Constance had gone down the |
path.
She bent over a pink rose bush and |
picked bud as Gerald Alton came in.
Roses red and violets blue,'" she |
quoted. "Can you tell me the rest |
of it?'
eff you love me as 1 love you,'" he
hesitated "You mustn't make me say |
such things"
"Why not?'
Because, I have nothing to offer you |
but cottage and a vegetable garden"
He was looking down at her with SOM
Der eyes.
"And if I don't marry one Herbert
Wilcox" she Informed him, 81 lose my
fortune. And 1 won't marry him, so
am really homeless-and-please I'd like |
to come and live in your COTTAGE
Aunt Anne's chagrin over the engage
ment found an outlet in letter to Her |
bert Wilcox. "Come up and rescue Con-
stance from her country parson," was
the theme.
But when Herbert's answer come it |
was revelation. 'Of all thingsv Aunt |
Anne calculated, when she had read it. |
whats the matter?" Constance |
asked.
'Read that" said Aunt Anne, trag-
ically.
1t was a brief espistle. but it was very |
extraordinary, no doubt, for Constance
danced with JOY and waved the letter
crying, "Hurrah!''
''Of all things!" Aunt Anne CALCULATED
again.