Year: 1876

great ugly scars that are sometimes only
half healed over.


When Will Randall cut Sally's name
and his own deep into the bark of the
old walnut tree at the foot or the lane,
1t seemed to him that the knife went
into his heart with every turn of the let
ters in her precious name. Tears rolled
out of his eyes in spite of his manly en-
dsavor to choke them down; as for Sally.
she had given way long ago, and, with
her sunbonnet tight down over her face,
was watering the gray old moss at the
foot of the tree with floods of childish
woe.


At last it was done; there were the
initials linked together deep in tho
rugged bark; the crimson light from
the western sky shone full upon each
and all. Will put his knife back in his
pocket with q click of determination,
gulped back his tears at once and for the
last time, and taking Sally from the
ground, he smoothed back her yellow
locks, coaxing her into quiet with the
solemn promise of his loyalty henceforth
and forever to the love between them.
He declared that the names linked there
upon the tree should never be separated
while life remained to him, and with
many vow ot fealty coined from the
books he had devoured among the lum-
Der in the garret, and simple plants of
love brought up from the depths of his
little swelling heart, Will bade little
Sally goodbye.


But alas for the inexorable DEGREES of
fate and fashion! Seven long years had
passed and gone since that last trysting
time, and although the two names were
still linked together upon the old walnut
tree, the two little lovers had drifted far
apart.


Young Master Randall went from one
place of instruction to another till he
reached the sunanauna 6Onuna of q veri-
table college. Taking advantage of the
absence OF their son and heir, the big
folks at the hall went abroad; the house
was closed, and although gh many an apple
and bunch of grapes from the old place
reached Sally, with the rest of the vii
layers, she never cared to taste these
lux RIGS from stranger hands. Will
spent his holidaysaway, nd Sally would
not even have heard the sound o: his
name had it not been for the sojourn of
Angelica Crane at boarding school
near the college. Perhaps Sally would
rather not have heard his name than
thus from the lips of Angelica, who
bump OF reverence was small, and who
held he young squire pretty much as
she held verybody-important in the
ratio that they contributed to her own
pleasure.


The acr. g of Farmer Crane were broad
and wide, and outnumbered by many a
score those that belonged to the Randall
family; it was whispered that even the
goodliest property of the old squire was
heavily mortgaged to the shrewd and
forehanded countryman, and that a
match between Miss Angelica and the
young squire would not be bad thing
for the latter. On the other hand, these
plain folks at the Crane homestead had
spared no pains to show their willing
ness to further whatever plans were
made for the joining OF these two good
ly estates.


Angelica herself had confided to Sally
that she had more strings to her bow
than one, but that she knew which she
preferred, and had often tortured the
poor little maiden, when during Argeli-
cas- holidays they had spent night or
two together, by reading her, among
other love letters, some productions
from the eloquent and ardent pen of
Will Randall, poor little Saily's peril
dious lover. Long after Angelica's curl
papers had ceased to rattle upon the
pillow, the soft silken rings of Sally's
yellow hair were wet with tears of envy
and girlish despair.


But as years went by, and old time
softened the bitterness of those holiday
stabs by dealing others of more vivid
and startling character, when cares and
griefs close at hand crowded about her
and hemmed her in, she became resign
ed to this one among the rest, and even
talked with Angelica of her loves and
lovers with q coolness that astonished
herself. There became less and less
grievous similarity in the description of
the young squire to that shy, sweet mem
ory Of Sally's of long ago. He had now.
1T appeared, an incipieut mustache, his
hands were white, he was more and more
"perfectly splendid" with every fresh
confidence; and this brilliant figure left
the old simple, tender likeness all to it.
self in Sally's young heart, and it bo-
came dead and buried like all the glad
things OF life, along with her father, the
schoolmaster, and the pale young moth
er she could just remember; and as she
turned the ice cream freezers that night
in the cellar of Farmer Crane, not one
thought of jealous spite or envy of the
fair Angelica came into her little head.


She did listen to the music, and
heard the noise above, and it was " a
sort of NICE" as Mrs. Crane had said;
and as she turned and turned one freezer
after another, Sally became interested
enough in her work to forget more i'm
portant trials close at hand.


1T made the soul of the farmers wife
glad within her, when she went down to
taste the cream, to find it beginning to
be all that her fancy painted.