Tombstone epitaph. (Tombstone, Ariz.) 1887-current, 1917-12-23

- II Us loi4i-uN, L lpl
my mind. rather hoped to reach
Kendall. My journey is not at all an in
tereSting matter TO talk about" she
went on. Tell me about your life
here. II sounds most delightfully."- pas
toral. Do you live here all the year
round?'
MY brother" John told her. has
not been farther away than the near
est market town for nearly twenty
years"
Her eyes grew round with astonish.
ment.
But you go TO London sometimes?"
II was there eight years ago. Since
then have not been further away than
Carlisle or Kendall. go into camp
near Kendall for three weeks every
year-territorial training, you know"
But how do you pass your time?
What do you do with yOurself?" she
asked.
Farm" he answered. Farming is
our daily occupation. Then for anuse-
ment We hunt. shoot and fish. The sea-
sons pass before we know it,"
She looked appraisingly at John
Strangewey. Notwithstanding his sun
tanned cheeks and the splendid vigor
of his form. there was nothing in the
least agricultural about his manner or
his appearance. There was humor as
well as intelligence in his clear. gray
eyes. She opined that the books which
lined one side Of the room were at
once his property and his hobby.
1T is a very healthy life, no doubt"
she said; but somehow Il seems in
comprehensive 10 think OF q man like
yourself living always in such an out
of-the-way corner"
Johns lips were open TO reply, but
stephen once more interviewed.
Life means a different thing to each
of US, madam" he said sternly. There
are many born with the lust for cities
and the crowded places in their hearts.
born with the desire TO mingle with
their fellows. to absorb the convention
al vices and virtues, 10 become one OF
the multitude. II has been different
with US Strangeweys."
Jennings, at a sign from his master.
removed the tea eQuipage, evidently
produced in honor Of their visitor.
Three tall-stemmed glasses We're
placed upon the table, and a decanter
of port reverently produced.
Louise had fallen for a moment or
two into fit OF abstraction. Her eyes
were fixed upon the opposite wall,
from which. out of their faded frames,
a row Of grirn-lookins men and women.
startlingly Ike her two hosts, seemed
to frown down upon her.
rs that your father" she asked.
moving her head toward one Of the
portraits.
MY grandfather. John Strangewey,"
stephen told her.
Was he one OF the wanderers!"
He left Cumberland only twice
during his life. He was master Of
hounds, magistrate, colonel in the yeo-
many of that period, and three times
refused TO stand for parliament"
John Strangewey!" Louise repeat
ed softly TO herself. II was looking at
your family tree upstairs" she went
on. 1T is curious how both my maid
and myself were struck with a sense
Of familiarity about the name, as if
we had heard or read something about
1t quite lately"
Her words were almost careleSsly
spoken. but she was conscious of the
somewhat ominous silence which en-
sued. She glanced Up wonderingiy
and intercepted rapid look passing
between the two men. More puzzled
than ever. she turned toward John as
if for an explanation. He had risen
somewhat abruptly to his feet, and his
hand was upon the back Of her chair.
.'Will ii be disagreeable to you IL my
brother smokes piper" he asked. Il
tried to have our little drawing room
prepared for you. but the fire has not
been lit for so long that the room, am
afraid, Is quite impossible"
do let me stay here with you" she
begged, land hope that both Of you
will smoke. am quite used to It,"
John wheeled up an easy chair for
her. Stephen, stiff and upright, sat on
the other side of the hearth. He took
the tobacco jar and p'pe that his broth
er had brought him, and slowly filed
the bowl.
with your permission, then, ma
DAM" he said. as he struck a match.
Louise smiled graciously. Some in
stinct prompted her to stife her own
craving for a cigarette and keep her
little gold case hidden in her pocket.
All the time her eyes were wandering
round the room. Suddenly she rose
and, moving round the table, stood
once more facing the row Of gloomy
looking portraits.
$50 that Is your grandfather" she
to John, VINO had followed
her. rs your father not hereT"
He shook his head.
MY fathers portrait was never
painted"
Tell the truth, JOHN" Stephen en-
Joined, rising in his place and setting
down his pipe. I'VE Strangeweys
were hillfolk and farmers, by descent
and destiny, for more than four hum
dred years. Our place is here upon
the land, almost among the clouds, and
tboSe of ne WIN have realized II have