The Washburn times. [volume] (Washburn, Wis.) 1896-1976, 1916-12-21
CHAPTER II-Continued.

she wrinkled up her nose as she
asked the question, David could not
forbear smiling. In spite of the mo-
mentary smile, the utter hopelessness
that returned to his cavernOus eyes
almost frightened her. She felt as
though she had unwittingly Knocked
at the door of a house that hid a
tragedy, and she was on the verge OF
dismayed retreat. But under the
funny little nose there was a kind
little mouth and a square little chin
so she drew in her breath and ran up
all her colors.
''Two pound ten yard"
Its dollars, not pounds here, you
know" she chided. you're English,
aren't you?"
His smile was frankly bitter now.
"Pm done with England he flashed
back.
"a Yankee then?' even more in
credulously.
Eyes. thank God !" he burst forth.
She fastened to remove the impli-
cation Of scorn in her words.
"Well, I suppose We'll be, too-fa-
Their and I. We just arrived at Cory
don this morning But I'm not thank
ing God especially for the prospect"
His silence seemed to disconcert
her. She may have been conscious
of something in her that imagined a
rebuke he did not intend. She bit
her lip and threw a backward glance.
"Three cheers for the president !"
The candOr in her eyes lent SINGER
ity to her words. She turned and
beckOned to her father, who was chat
ting at the door. He seemed to be
used to her humors, for he came for
ward indulgently with, swell, daugh-
ter?''
He had the broad, red face of a
prosperous British farmer, a rudy
disk in which you might discern no
sun-spot Of guile. Heartiness radf-
ated from him as from the maturing
sun. His shrewd little eyes looked
on David with so honest a kindness
that David gave him instant trust. A
strange thing, for David knew it was
the farmers of England whose flour
made the threepenny loaves whose
price had made the weavers go hun
CRY.
sFather, want you to"-she turned
winsomely to the young storekeeper-
'What is your name?
The young man surrendered. ''Da-
vid Laurence"
"This Is my father, Mr.. Job Gran
mer. My name is Lydia, and I'm his
only daughter and he does what I tell
him to, don't you, father?" And she
gave him a tug at his elbow.
The name Lydia instantly became
for David one of those on the calen-
dar.
"Your daughter is very kind, Mr..
Cranmer.'
The girl FASTENED to impart the one
piece of information she had Cleaned
about her countryman.
HE says he is going to live here"
ga fine country, this. young man"
approved Mr.. Cranmer heartily. L
mean to settle here myself. They tel%
me land is as cheap here on the Will
derness bordev as Goals in Newcastle
Pm a farming man."
you're no farmer?" hazardsl the
girl to David.
"NO-I was weaver"
"Ohl" said Cranmer, comprehend
ing, "then it hasn't been all skittles
with you. hey, young MANI"
A wave of dxrk red swept over Da-
vid's face and he seemed unable to
answer.
Nottingham way, maybe?" pursued
his queStiOner.
eyes" he assented, and choked over
the word.
"Your people have been hard trod-
den, haven't they?" pressed Cranmer
kindly.
"Oh, do not mind me of itw broke
from Davids lips. He bowed his head
to hide the tears he could not control.
Lydia turned to her father for ex-
PLANTATION.
Likely this young man suffered
with the Luddites," he remarked.
"Tell u.s." whispered Lydia, 1--WE are
sorry"
LAY, d-n England" clustered
Cranmer, without an apology for the
oath.
David looked at the man intently
There was something about him that
reused question.
Nottingham market place is fail
sight," observed the farmer.
you've been there?"
CAV, one Whit-Monday feast"
Clifton groves were green then,
cried Lydia eagerly.
"There was blood on the parade al
Martinmas two years ago." DayiG
burst forth, fire smoldering in his eye
"Our people gathered first at market
goose-fair in October; maybe 1t wa:
the plenty we saw there then thai
made us wild. My father and m!
brother and had eaten but one mea
a day for weeks before. There wer,
others worse off than we. I saw ,
starving child knocked down and beat
en- that stole an apple from a cart
They drove US out of the market whel
we cursed England.
1t wasn't till November-that W,
could bear the rent of the frames n,
longer. The men were fsir wolve
by then. Every night they ga{here'
In front of the Exchange. Then whel
the cold began and we had no coal
nor even peats from Sherwood-th
Thnu ShOllfp6 fhQ