The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1913-04-22

as If it were an accompaniment to the
moon in its wanderings or to the stars
in the silent watches"
My speech sounded like fattery, and
I blushed as the thought came to me.
SCI hope you will forgive my praise IL
It seemed extravagant," said. but /
only said what was in my heart with
out rejecting that you might take 1t
for dattery." had been accustomed
to pay compliments at will and some
times, fear, was given to dattery. but
L would not have had this young girl
think me guilty of such i'll breeding
for any thing in the world.
eff that is the way you feel" she an
swered sweetly, 81 will play something
for you and trust to pleasing father"
and, going back to the piano. she play
ed something-I do not know what
Bud said he had never heard her play
1t before, and. though asked her often
after that to play it for me again. 1
never heard 1t, yet the strains even
now go through my head when sit in
the moonlight or lie awake at nights
thinking of Ellen.
She disappeared after awhile to clear
the table and wash the dishes, I
thought, with some resentment Colo
mel Turpin talked politics, and soon
learned that he was decided in his
views, though somewhat mixed in his
politics. I found out that he was ad-
dicted to the habit of writing pieces"
for the papers, but never under his
own name He chose rather such noms
de plume as '<Vox PopuH,'' Citizen"
and sometimes Patriot" He did not
believe that writing was the profess
sion of a gentleman unless one could
hide ones identity. Yet he felt that
the public should be educated by this
means. He was a Democrat, but be-
lieved in a high protective tariff He
disclaimed being a lingo. but thought
it the duty of the government to avense
the wrongs of any people prosecuted
by foreign power. And SO the night
wore on and the moon rose higher in
the heavens. heard Bud and the
colonel discuss the work on the farm
and judged that the former and two or
three negroes did it all save in the
picking season.
There was contradiction about this
strange household which was perplex-
ing to me: Where had Miss Ellen
mastered the piano. and why was Bud,
with the apparent education of cul-
tured gentleman. wearing jeans and
doing the plow work in the fields? 1
had begun to weary OF conjecture
when Miss Ellen returned and offered
to show me the view from the cupola-
It was a weary climb to the top of
that old house, but one felt repaid on
reaching there as the panorama I'm
folded itself in the moonlight The
moon was but a fortnight old. and the
night was cloudless Miss Ellen point
ed out to me the field where the army
of Sherman had camped on its famous
march to the sea, but had not a word
of criticism to make of that great gen
eral She told me of the strong young
manhood that was developing to re-
generate the land and seemed to think
the freedom OF the slaves a blessing
to both people. She promised TO take
me to the negro settlement some day
and show me how they lived She
had a Sunday school there of colored
girls, ''for," she said, lit is going to
be through the mothers of the colored
race that we will some day reach it
and elevate it to what is good and
moral" 1 stood spellbound. as it were,
by her earnestness and faith, and all
my preconceived opinions began to fall
away under the influence of this little
brown eyed girl in Bingham gown.
CTo be Continued.)