The Dermott news., 1919-06-26

seven o'clock the mare and I started again. well fed and eager to go on. It was n summer morning that short ems the road-evcn that of the young 1 lover. It's air was sweet with the 1 breath of the meadows. The daisies and the clover and the cornflowers and the wild roses seemed to be way 1 ing welcome to me, and the thorn 1 trees-shapely ornament of my native hlIls-were in blossom. cloud of pigeons swept across the blue deep above my head. The great choir ot 1 the fields sang to me-bobolinks. song sparrows, meadowlarks. bluebirds, | varblers, wrens. and far away in the edge of spruce thiCket l heard the flute of the white-throated sparrow.
 bathed at brook in the woods and put on n clean silk shirt and tie out of my saddlebagS. I rode slowly then to the edge of the village of Can ton and turned at the bridge and took the river road although I had time to spare. How my heart was beating as neared the familiar scenel The l IlNti Si0ntt4 iiS IiNt bii'ttt ilht dlS- corning traveller. to enjoy the beauty of its shores. Smooth and silent was the water and In 1t were the blue Of the sky and the feathery shadowspires of cedar and tamarack md the reflect ed blossoms of iris and meadow rue. It was Il lovely scene.
 There was the pine, but where was my lady? I diSmountcd and tied my mare and looked at my watch. It lacked twenty minutes to eleven. She would come-I had no doubt of it. I washed my hands and face and neck in the cool water. Suddenly I heard a voice knew singing: Barney Leave the Girls Alone" l turned and saw-your mother. my son. (TheSe last lines were dictated to his son) She was in the stern of a birch canoe. all dressed in white with roses in her hair. l raised my hat and she threw Il kiss at me. old Kate sat in the bow waving her handkerchief. They stopped and Sally asked in tone of playful seriousness:
 Young man. why have you come here?'
 ''To get you," I answered.
 What do you want of me?" She was looking at her face in the water
 II want to marry you" l answered bTavely
 Then you may help mo ashore If you please. l am in my best. white slippers and you are to be very care full"
 Beautiful, She was the spirit of the fields of June then and always.
 helped her ashore and held her in my arms and you know, the lips have a way of speaking then in the old. con yincing finnl argument of love. They left no doubt in our hearts, my son.
 When do you wish to marry me?" she whispered.
 "As soon as possible, but my pay Is only sixty dollars month now"
 "We shall make 1t do" she an- swereI My mother and father and your aunt and uncle and the Packets and the minister and number of our friends are coming In a fleet of boats"
 We are prepared either for picnic or wedding" was the whisper of Kate.
 Lets make 1t both" proposed to Sally.
 "Surely there couldn't be better place than here under the big pine its so smooth and soft and shady" said she.
 Nor could there be better day or better company" I urged, for was not sure that she would agree.
 The boats came along. Sally and waved n welcome from the bank and she merrily proclaimed:
 It's to be wedding"
 Then a cheer from the boats, In which joined.
 shall never forget how. when the company had landed and the greetings were over. Uncle Peabody approached your mother and said:
 Say. Sally. I'm goin' to plant kiss on both Q them red checks Q yours. an do 1t deliberate. too"
 He did il and so did Aunt Deel and old Kate. and I think that. next to your mother and me. they were the happieSt people at the wedding. |
 There Is a lonely grave up in the hills-that of the stranger who died long ago on Rattleroad, One day found old Kate sitting beside II and on Il stone lately erected there was the pafna EuoCh Rome
 'lt Is very sorrowful," she whis- porcd. "lie was trying to find me when he died"
 Ne walked on in silence while I re- called the circumstances How strange that those tales of blood and lawless daring which Kate had given to Amos Crimshaw had led to the staying of her own son, Yet, so 1t happened. and the old wives will tell you the story up there in the hills.
 The play ends just as the night is |