The Richmond palladium and sun-telegram. [volume] (Richmond, Ind.) 1907-1939, 1919-08-22
SSFAR FROM THE MADDHNG CROWD
BY THOMAS HARDY
Condensation by Alfred s. Carl

Before Bathshcba Everdene came to
Weatherbury as mistress of the manor
house, time seemed to have forgotten
the village. The smock-clad shep-
herds in the thatch-roofed cottages
might have been, as far as appear
ances went, their own ancestors of
four centuries before Little happen
ings seemed tremendous. The pulling
down of howell was a stirring event;
the transformation of a we'll into
pump shook weatherbury like a revo-
luton.
The stir of the great world without
its romance and passion and tragedy
these came to Weatherbury with Bath.
Sheba. There was new arrival to
be discussed, great-boned, ruddy-
faced shepherd, Gabriel Oak, who beat
out a fire that menaced the wheat
ricks, and remained to work for Bath
sheba. Fanny Robin, a servant disap-
peared, lured by a soldiers red coat.
These were things to agitate the heads
of the rustics who gathered at night
fall in the old malthous to drink and
moralize.
Their heads would have wagged
even more had they known that Ga
briel Oak, only a few weeks before,
had been his own master, and had
Vainly urged Bathsheba, then a pen
nlless maiden, to marry him. Things
that had seemed commonplace enough
had abruptly reversed their places in
the world. A man had died in Wealth
erbury; a dog had driven to death
a flock of sheep. These were but the
inevitable tragedies of life, and yet
the one had suddenly made Bathsheba
an heiress; the other had driven Ga
briel out upon the highways to seek
work Chance or fate had kindled a
fire, Gabriel had saved the wheat, and
the two lives that had been flung so
far apart were brought near again.
The pain of seeing another win her
whom he loved would be intense but
Gabriel preferred even this to life
where he could not see her. Bathshe-
ba was young, beautiful, wealthy, but
rarer than these was her high spirit
"She was the stuff of which great
mems mothers are made. She was in
despensable to high generation, hated
at tea parties, feared in shops and
loved at crises" The spirit, however,
was to flame more brightly later, af
ter her impetuosity had plunged her
into the crises that was to prove her
worth.
In all Weatherbury, one man alone
was needless to her charm. This was
William Boldwood, "the nearest ap-
proach to aristocracy that this remote
quarter Of the parish could boast Of
She resented being ignored and, in
a moment of thoughtlessness, sent him
a valentine that famed into flame
passions that Boldwood had hidden
from the world.
At the shearing supper held in the
great barn, Gabriel could see that
Boldwood's suit was prospecting. He
was madly in love. She no longer
discouraged him. Neither Bathsheba
nor Boldwood were thinking then Of
a song she had sung earlier in the
evening, when 1.-The shearers reclined
against each other as at suppers in
the early ages of the world" Yet
afterwards how often were they to
recall with shudder the words that
Bathsheba had so lightly sung:
For his bride a soldier sought her,
And a winning tongue had he:
On the banks of Allan Water
None was as gay as she.
That very night the soldier came
into her life, came as she walked
about the farm to see that all was
secure. Her skirt was caught as she
trod fearfully through a growth Of
high frs; she heard the mutter of a
mans voice. A dark lantern revealed
a spur entangled in her skirt, young
and slender man clad in brilliant brass
and scarlet. 1t flashed like a CLEAN Of
romance in gray days, that scarlet
coat that was afterwards to be re-
membered as SO sinister a portent.
The man was Sergeant Troy, a light
hearted scoundrel whose ready fiat
terry sounded sweeter in Bathsheba's
ears than the stemmering longing Of
Gabriel or Boldwood. He courted her
Economically, wooing her with his
sword She stood a few days later,
in a hollow of ferns, and about her
flashed his whirling, edged weapon,
in slashing SO close to her that she
could hear its sharp hiss as it carved
out in the air her lissome figure. And
when he turned to leave her, he stoop-
ed swiftly and kissed her on the lips.
Gabriel tried to warn Bathsheba,
but she scorned his reproaches So
he bore silently with his grief and he
did not tell her that Troy had beguil.
ed little Fanny Robin away from
Weatherbury. Boldwood, whose heart
never before had beat faster at a
womans approach, could not control
his anger. He shouted maledictions
upon the man who had robbed him Of
all that made life joyous. His mad
ness precipitated that which he most
dreaded, Bathsheba's marriage to
Troy.
The hasty marriage led swiftly to
sorrow. Troy celebrated the wedding
by a revel in the barn where he and
all the jovial rustics were soon hope
lessly befuddled. Gabriel dared not
drink with them. The creeping things