Pine Bluff daily graphic., 1917-11-11
W WMhAAAhAAAhMS MSb .BY THE HILL ROAD.
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By JEAN STUART.

 hill road, and that the bushes at the edge of the road had been parted. She saw that man was looking out of the tangle.
 ''I beg your pardon, if have dis turbed you," he said courteously, re- moving his hat. "But used to be fa- mi,iar with-with this-some years ago, and am trying to recall this place. It is so much changed that I can hardly realize 1t is the same"
 The young woman followed the di- rection of his eyes. He was looking at a disordered heap that had once been a chimney, and at overthrown and rot ting blocks of wood that had once been the pillars of house.
 "Time seems to have made many changes here," she said quietly, without any embarrassment. He looked around again, with lingering glance, and sat down on the other end of the log.
 "This is the remains of the house in which was born," he said thought fully, after silence. Tt has been a long time since saw 1t. Right about over there was my room. There was rose vine over the window-my moth- CT planted it-see-a wild branch of 1t Is growing yet. And that old chim. ney! couldn't realize that the old house would be gone when came again. If you know what it means, l believe have heartache because the old house has fallen down."
 The girls eyes rested softly on the decayed chimney.
 "I was wondering before you came" she acknowledged, eff those who used to live here had forgotten all about the old home. l am merely summer boarder over at Farmer Gray's, and have heard a little about-about you, I think-and of the others" There was a long silence before he answered her.
 ''I found out early that would go out and make my way in the world" he said. "I had hard york; the first five years. But things began to come any way at last. I could build a beau- tiful home about this ruin if wished and was thinking as came out here that I would like to do that-but now 1T am not so sure. I am afraid 1t would be the loneliest place in all the world-haunted with ghosts. Every thing ever loved here is gone."
 @You speak, perhaps, of the dogs or Is it the COWS and horses?" she asked.
 . 1T spoke more especially" he said, 'sof tiny girl that used to call my little sweetheart Where is she now, I wonder? How the years rob us as they go!''
 The girl turned and looked at him.
 "But doubtless the years gave you far more than they took away" she said steadily. "One finds it that way In life. A man loses the baby sweet heart he thought he loved. Beg par don't is almost dinner time with the Grays, and must go."
 sBut--wait momentw he cried, greatly perturbed, as she was going past him, II asked-I asked again and again-and when found that she was ! to be an heiress-and was mere drudge in a hardware house, with grlmy hands and ill-fitting clothes, did not ask again."
 She had paused, the ruffled white sunbonnet hanging back from her face and framing it in.
 Fl havt, no doubt you have even for gotten hlsw she looked" she said pres- ently.
 ''She had world of golden hair," he replied. "Her name was Elsie-and there was q dimple in each cneek when she laughed. Perhaps you have heard the Grays speak of her. They were fond of her once."
 "Yes," she said, moving slowly to- ward the opening in the tangled brush wood. "I have heard them speak of her. She was adopted, as you say, and was educated, and had the world at her feet, one might say. And yet heard-it seems to me that someone told me-she came back here not long ago-to look at the old home-and to cross the creek at the old place"
 He had one fleeting glimpse of her as she looked back at him from be- tween the leaves. A flood of rosy color had swept over either cheek, and in the. midst of the rose was dimple. A look of amazed comprehension flashed into his face-but before he could speak she was gone. He had always been swift of foot, however-and besides
 He knew the way to Farmer Gray's, and the way led across the little creek at the foot of the hill.
 Copyright, 1917. by W. G. Chapman.) Useless Wishes. 'I wish I had not done 1t. wish