Spirit of the age. [volume] (Woodstock, Vt.) 1845-1913, 1913-06-21

fairly well pared from the accident
quite enough to demand sympathy.
Il don't think he would want to 60
to the hotel, Mr.. Dixon" said EyalorA,
flushing slightly. but speaking a. old
Stoves daughter should Hes an old
friend OF ours. and neighbor's boy.
wish you would pIase take him home
for me. and some one look after the
oxen Then you can settle with him
yourself for the wagon and slabs"
Well. II you say 30. Miss Kline
colt"
Il do say 90. I'm going with you 10
look after him"
IL was n strange drive over the long
road. Tom Dixon at the wheel, and
nvalora looking after the unconscious
youngster. Once she directed him TO
turn and make for doctors house
down the road. They took him along
with them up to divers farm.
Anything moro can dor" Tom
asked. after he had waited for the doc
tors verdict. and left a check that COW
cred the damage Can drive you
back. Miss Evalorar"
Evalora stood at the kitchen door.
Beside her the double hollyhocis grew
az tall as herself 1t seemed as II they
turned their ruby hearts to her In wei
come. Her hair was rumplcd and
wavy, her cheeks flushed. her sleeves
rolled high to the elbow.
81 don't think I'd better go back.
thanks" she said. happily. ''If you
take the doctor with you, and stop nj
the sawmill and tell father what's hap
pened, he'll come up and help. too"
Il don't think It's necessary. all this
fuss. He's all right now" said Tom.
sulkily.
Il know" Evalora returned, shyly.
but you see. he's our own folks. and
we like to look after him"
She waited until the buzz and hum
of the motor had died away far down
the hill road before she went back to
the couch where they had put Oliver.
He was bandaged until he looked like
turbanned Hindoo. but he smiled up
at her.
Il heard what you told him. Eva
lora."
well. that's just what father'd say.
down to keep m the late afternoon
sunlight
"sit down here" said Oliver. "I
want to tell you why went up there
today on the long road"
Mvalora said nothing. She took the
low rocker beside him and fingered the
pieced courthouse steps quilt on the
bed. There were some pieces OF her
dresses there when she had waited for
Oliver down at the sawmill on the way
to school. He had always carried her
little tin lunch pail those days. Some \
times they had stopped Mt the bars
lower down. and ''peeked" inside to
see what surprise her mother had
slipped in. berry turnover or dough
nut with Jelly inside. She shared her
treasures with him then.
Then had come her schooling. first
at the high school in nearby town.
and later up at Normal She had |
slipped out of his reach for little
while. 1t had been this summer at the
big hotel that had taught her where
life ran in sweetest places. and she |
had tired of all the shams and petty |
battles of that daily round. Life was
what one made 1t, and the markings lay |
In ones own heart. as Oliver would |
have put It. She could have her books |
and music up at the hill farm. with
peace and plenty and--him.
Il know why you came" she whis,
pered, ''just to get me-"
Would you have come along II I |
hadn't got all smashed up7" There
was Whimsical touch Of longing In
his tone. Would you, girl?" He |
reached out one arm towards her. and
drew her to him. TITS a rough road
to travel. the long one. but I'm just
starved for you. Evalora- know
amt the sort Of fellow you ought to
marry, but
Her hand was pressed firmly over
bis lips.
II don't like the other kind" she
said, softly. ~
Copyright. 1918. by the Mcclure News
paper 5yndlcate.)