Year: 1874

i
ry comes back" she said, smiling.


"Better wait till he does come" was the
grim reply.


"Oh, you know, want to have every thing
ready for him."


Whereat Mrs. Thornpin laughed to herself
for Deb as she said, was capable of diving
right along" with the sunlight shining on that
gray shanty, and patch of rag carpet on the
floor, waiting for Jerry forever


So Deb went her way in her sun bonnet and
old gray gown, with snatch of Glove pink in
her hair, and took refuge in the ancient shin
gle-front house.


All that bright, breezy day of Debs move she
was very busy, after her own fashion, washing
down and cleaning up the big bare raftered
kitchen, with many pauses to look out of the
wide shambling windows at the gray brm-
ming ocean, the white foam line, and the wind
blown sand and sedge. For Deborah, as her
sister said, "lazy as born lady"--a lady
who thought herself well dressed in patched
gray gown and rosebud.


"When Jerry comes back I'll have folks
enough running here" said the infatuated Deb
to those who condoed with her on her sea
shore solitude.
But there came change over the quiet OF
Rushtow There were whispers in the air OF
an approaching invasion. A big specu lator,
in big gold chain, with big voice, and big
company at his back, had found his way along
the sea shore. There was talk of villa sites
and villa plots and ocean views, and there were
flaming placards up at the village inn, and
there was big tent down along the sands, with
gay streamer atop Of ii, and crowds of busy,
beer-drinking people about 1t, invading the
ocean quiet, and vulgarzug the place, as Mrs.
Lymph declared.


And finally, it appeared, the willy auctioneer
threw a covetous eye on that sighted two acre
lot which was generally shifted at by the viii
lage as "Debs property" And the speculative
| Mr. Jones courted Deb and coaxed Deb, and
endeavored to bring her to reason and to max
| ing sale at his own pricea good price for a
| few bushels Of sand. as he observed, worth
| nothing, except that they stood in his way
But Deb was shrewd for once, for the sake of
Jerry. When Jerry came back it would not do
to have cheated him out of what was justly his
due. So she bargained and put off and hag-
glej with the eloquent auctioneer, for Jerry S
sake, until finally, as you never can bring a
woman TO reason, he was fain to give her price.
And he touched his hat respectfully when they
closed the bargain, for he respected money, did
Mr.. JONES' and Deb was a far richer woman
than when he first met her, and had proved to
ha ehorpar than ba wae aftar o1I


That was proud day for Deb when she de-
posted the proceeds of that one business trans
action of her life in the snug little bank Of a
neighboring town. She still owned the shaky
old house and bit of land about it, and she
had bank book besides There was a small
sum coming TO her yet, and, happy as prin-
cess, she walked along the sands, in her sun
bonnet, to meet the gallant auctioneer OF the
big tent, for, seeing that Deb was landed pro-
prietor, and mistress of small fortune, that
gentleman had invited her down to the great
clam-bake and sale, to see, as he said. chow
the thing was done," and to settle up. 1t was
all wonderful scene to poor simple Deborah
the feasting, the crowded tables. the rushing,
jostling good humored people who bid high
prices and drank beer, and hankered to getout
by the ocean. In her interest and excitement
she fingered with the rest utI neaIIy ssr.soos.
"You had better be careful of that money"
said the auctioneer, kindly, as she put the
purse in her pocket when they "settled up
"There are ill-lookng fellows hanging about
here. It's bad for lone woman to have much
money about her."


81 sh'n't always be O lone woman, said Deb,
in the fullness of her heart, thinking of the
| time when Jerry would be back, as big and
brave and fearless as anbody.


That night there came a new moon over the
| water; the wide dim stretch of lifting waves
| was family silvered, the like mist lying
| beyond glimmered like Milky Way. But Deb
was not lingering outdoors tonight, dreaming
| and brooding, as was her wont at this hour
| She sat in the great shadow haunted kitchen,
| her n-bonneto on her head, candle flaring be-
| side her-a candle which fickered unsteadily
| over a tumbed heap of bills, interspersed with
| few odd pieces ofsilver, the hoardings of years
Deb was counting her treasure, gloating over
| it like miser. Window and door were open
| the sea breeze came floating in. Eager, hap
py, intent, she heard nothing, feared nothing.
| The wind was always making racket about
the disjointed old place, and Deb had got used
to it. 1t sounded like sinister football now on
the threshold, but Deb never looked up. She
did not see dark face bending over her shoul-
| der; she did not see the shadow of brawny
hand crawling stealthily over the heap she was
counting. 1t might be one of the grim shadows
haunting the rafters had got down to play a
prank with her, so unconscious sits the woman
absorbed in her unaccustomed mathematics
till the brawny hand comes down with sud
den swoop, clutchng her treasure-a living
sinewy hand, with a sailors anchor pricked in
faded blue on the back.


But Deb was quick she caught at the closed
fist sharply, holding it in vigorous grip, trea-
sure and all, as she turned upon the robber-a
strength, not to be lightly queled, transformed
by sudden peril into heroism.


| But as she turned cry broke from her lips
"a wild strange cry, uttering all the passion
and loneliness of her lifetime


"Jerry" she cried. 80 God 1t was all fol
you"


Was-it so indeed that Jerry had come home
Was it Jerry who shrank from her extended
arms, and falling abjectly on the floor, grovel
ed at her feet? Jerry her knight, her return
ing hero, for whom her world was all too small
to afford largess for his welcome!


divine light shone in Deborah
eyes. All things were for him; first of all, for
giveness.


Disgraced, degraded, Jerry; fallen upon evi
ways, Jerry; so much the more will the grea
mother-heart comfort and welcome thee


~ never meant it, mother" he cried; "no,


never meant this I've been bad enough anC
wretched enough and starved enough, but


never meant this. 1t was the money he gave
you down at the long tent that done it. neve


see your face, not once, oh, not once, mother
only the jingling, hateful purse that lured me
on like devil Let me away out O. this" hi
cried, breaking from her grasp, "and I'll neve


trouble you more. swear it-never"


Rut hia p,othor set her ha ok AGAIN at the door