Frostburg mining journal. [volume] (Frostburg, Md.) 1871-1913, 1909-07-31

you've seen this year haven't
roamed this farm for years without
finding out where the best ones hide"
mo. shall not go home" Edith de
clared that evening. "I'Il show him
before my month is up hat I'm good
for something. even if ,Au't write
stories. Besides other editors buy
them If he won't. I'd Ike to know
how he diSo ovcrcd this place.
thought it almost belonged to us"
ASK him." returned Bert For my
part, I'm glad he's here, even if he
did catch me in my beEglr robes. But
picking-why. he worked like steam
thrashcr He filed Il ten quart pail
while l was picking four quarts"
1--WE mind to ask the pilgrim IA
ther to let me ride the hayrakc."
Edith remarked viciouSly. Il used to
when | was girl. and intend to
catch that bay colt and ride him to-
morrow without a saddle. don't be-
lieve I've forgotten how"
"Do, and he'll surely think you ca
pable of running cattle ranch in
Arizona. even If he doesn't accept your
stories"
He might suggest 1t in the next re-
fuSal he sends me. was the somewhat
bitter response while a figure sitting
by the window in the adjoining room
heard every word and went on with
the third reading of a typewriter
manuscript which would have been
very familiar to Edith could she have
seen 1t at that moment.
Day followed day in quick success
sion until only one week of vacation
remained The colt had been ridden
many times. Many were the gallops
which the two girls had taken about
the country The harvest must have
cared for itself, for Mr. Mcpherson
found many an hour in which to act
as escort. But one day the girls went
for the last time to the berry field.
Their pals were soon filled, and they
started up the long lane leading from
the pasture to the barn. Halfway
home, where the little brook crossed
If, veritabe demon of mischief must
have entered the brain of Bert
Lets hide our berries under that
oak" she said. land then trace this
stream through the woods. Who knows
what beautiful spots it visits or what
we may findr
I'm agreed" Edith responded. 1--WE
haven't half investigated our garden
Edcnic."
Straight through the center OF the
oatfield ran the little brook, bordercd
on either side by elm and maple trees.
Then it entered the woods. and the
banks became higher. in some places
rocky and prccipitous. in others so low
and pcbby it reminded one of an
ocean beach. Suddenly they caught
sight Of some flowers part way up the
bank, where another stream, seemingly
fed by spring farther on, joined
forces with the one they were follow
ing.
I'm going to climb that bank and
get those flowers" said Edith. "They
are the most brilliant l ever saw"
"Plenty Of mud there" cautioned
Bert
"Who cares for mud" was the
scornful retort Mud, with such shoes
as we're wearing! You go on, and I'll
climb up and join you beyond the
bend"
"All right" Bert returned carelessly
and sauntered on. Several minutes
went by. She had gone around the
bend, out of sight. What was Edith
doing? Surely it was time for her to
appear. Flower picking does not take
all day. Then she heard a call, sharp
and quick, full Of distress. 1t was
Edith's voice. What was the trouble
She hurried back along the bank of
the brook, but before she had taken
half a dozen steps the voice rang out
again. sharper than ever:
Bert. Oh. Bert! Hurry up!'
Then she saw her, halfway up the
bank. cIinging with all her might to a