Evening public ledger. [volume] (Philadelphia [Pa.]) 1914-1942, 1921-07-09
THE DAILY NOVELETTE,
The Farm That Wouldn't Sell
BY II. LOUIS RAYBOLD.


drews, that you will keep an eye on the
place and show 1t to prospective buyers.
might add that in addition to your
fee as caretaker. Mr.. Gerrish will allow
you nominal commission IL the farm
Is disposed Of through your Efforts
Lawyer John Pangburn buttoned his
fur coat snugly about him and turned
away.
A touch on his arm arrested him.
ITS rather n pity, isn't it." Margaret
Andrews questioned him. "for the last
OF the Gerrishes to let the property go
out Of the family2"
Yes. young lady" admitted Pang-
burn, ''it is. undoubtedly. But. lord,
these young chaps nowadays-what's a
few acres and a bunch of cows COM
pared to the subway rush and the
bright white lights? Henry seems to
think he can set Wall street on fire
with the proceeds from the sale of the
farm. However, good-day, Miss An
drews.' Abruptly he checked his CON-
ments on what was undoubtedly his
client own business.
Left alone, Margaret watched her
recent visitors car grow smaller and
smaller along the ribbon Of road that
threaded the Woodbridge hills. But her
thoughts were elsewhere-with old
Henry Gerrish, who a few days before
/ had gone to join his fathers on the hill
with young Henry Gerrish. whom she
had never seen until the day of the
funeral. and then only at a distance as
he stood muffled in his coat. head bent,
beside his fathers grave.
For Henry has gone out to an uncle
ranching It in the West some months
before Margaret's arrival In Wood
bridge and had not come home until
summoned by the death Of his father.
There had followed idle speculation in
the neighborhood ms 10 Henry's inten-
tions regarding the farm. Would he
follow his fathers and grandfather's
footsteps? Today those queries had
been answered. for Henry. Immediately
after the brief reading Of his fathers
| will. had instructed Pangburn to put
the old homestead on the market.
As time passed. however. and the
| place remained unsold. Margaret came
to feel for 1t a continually increasing
fondness. Watching the spring SOW
ing OF fields rented to neighbor,
tending the small flower gardens about
the doorways. opening the windows to
flood with sterilizing brightness the
unused house. busting the quiet rooms
all these activities developed in her
almost sense OF part ownership with
Henry Gerrish. And more and more
she waxed indignant with him for
wishing to dispose of his inheritance.
Then one sunny afternoon in April
into John Pangburn's dingy Office
stalked seedy looking youth with
worried lines about bis eyes. Look
here, Mr. Pangburn, he began with
out preamble; I'm hard up. Things
haven't pnnned out as / hoped What
i get In from the farm hardly pays
the taxes. The house won't rent Wby
the deuce doesn't the place sell p"
Pangburn shook his head. "Henrv
! don't know. It's the dickens of a
ways for me to travel down with every
Tom; Dick and Harry, but I've won
dered sometimes-do you suppose that
that Miss Andrews queers the deal?
Shell lose her little income If she sells
the farm"
Henry nodded. Guess you've bit
~ And she stands to get the commits
sion in the end. Listen, now-I've an
loea' Tho girl doesn't know me. Send
me down to look 1t over MS buyer
and III size up the situation"
Good scheme" said Pangburn an
confounded good scheme"
Three days later Margaret slipped n
letter back into its envelope, sfpbing
as she did so. Sounds like business
this time" she said to herself, I'm
afraid that idiot Henry Gerrisb Ia 90.
ing 10 lose his gold mime
That afternoon across the fields tho
last Of The Gerrishes (pro tenn fol-
lowed In amazement Margaret's slim
bgure and marveled at the words
which fell from her lips. How unfair
had Pansburn been
Can't you see it7' she was de-
manding. "Those forty acres in corn,
the west twenty in alfalfa, that swamp
drained for celery, the timber Iot
cleared and yielding a little rendy cash
good utility stock In the chicken runs.
Il few grade cows to start With
This line Of talk." nuscd Henry to
himself, bewildered, Should have
nailed very customer. Aloud, II
wonder why the present owner doesn t
keep it2" he said. why does he sell ?''
-. Because" said Margaret promptly,
hes an idiot !"
"oh," said Henry thoughtfully, "I
On his return to town Henry cast a
bombshell at Pangburn's feet. "IIeav-
ems, man." he cried. "She made the
place SO darned attractive I'm going
to farm 1t myself"
One year from the day she met him
Margaret Andrews married Henry Ger
rish and came back from the little
Woodbridge church to the old house she
had tended. Standing on the south
veranda in the mellow air of an Indian
summer twilight, watching the lights
twinkle out in her parents home on
the hill quarter of mile away, she
and her husband fell to talking Of the
circumstances which had brought them
together,
Funny" ruminated Henry, "old
Pangburn thought maybe the place
didn't sell because you ran it down,
or something of the sort"
Margaret was silent moment
Then, Maybe" she confessed slowly,
"he was right. You see. bated to see
old Henry Gerrish's son squandcr the
work of years and generations. Not
that ! ever actually snid anything
only, well, ! gould have been more en-
"But why" demanded Henry, puz-
zled. "did you praise it to the skies ia
me? You didn't know II was me-
Didn't ~" laughed his bride of an
hour. do you suppose, Henry Ger
rish, I could dust the photograph OF II
man with a dimple in his left cheek
every few days for three yenrs am
not recognize him when 1 saw him?'
Ns. esmsl.t. novel a.A saee....