Year: 1872

make them mealy. In few minutes
we will peel them and then dinner
will be ready except taking 1t up"


The dinner seemed very meagre to
little Hctty as she ran over the item
in her mind-potatoes, peas, pork,
biscuit, butter, cucumbcrs, milk and
water. She had wanted to make tea
for her visitor, but she declined deci-
dedly. The poor child said apologeti-
cally:


"When father and mother were alive,
we used to have a good many things
for dinner, and Matte, our hired girl,
used TO get them all but when they
died, and Squire Johns said hc bought
mortgage on our farm, and that we
had got to pay every cent the day it
was due, or lose everything, we had to
do without good many things, and
We are very poor now, and Ben is
afraid we won't have enough to pay it,
and they all say we may look for no
mercy from Squire Johns, for he is
very hard to the poor, and he has al
ways wanted our farm, because it joins
some of his own land where he wants
to build, | heard all about it when
one of the neighbors was talking with
our Ben, though lie didn't want me to
know about it.


Mile had listened to this with a
curious mixture of feelings, for Squire
Johns was a declared lover Of hers,
and though she had not yet accepted
him, she had been pleased with his at
tcntions, and had certainly given him
encouragement. Moreover, he was to
receive his final answer in three days
from that time, and she was not sure
that the answer reserved and laid
away for that time was mo" True,
Millie was not in love with him, but
she had waited so long for that ccstatic
state of feeling she had read and heard
so much about, thought she was not
capable of love, and to like any one
was as much as she could expect. But
she certainly liked Squire Johns as
well if not better than any one, and
his love must certainly be disintcrested, +,
for he could not know that-but now
Millie stopped. Could he not? Might
he not have found out in some way :?
If the story was true, would such a
man be likely to marry poor girl p
For Mile Warner was really an
heiress in small way. She was sole
inheritor of a small, unincumbered
farm from her father, and FIVE thous.
and dollars in bank stock. But the
farm was two hundred miles south of
this town, where she was visiting her
cousin, and nobody knew of it; and
during her visit she had helped her
cousin in her work as she always help
ed her mother when she was at home
capable, industrious little girl that
she was.


The story agreed with things that
she had heard limited at, but only
limited at, and even they the next
morning were smoothed over, for
Squire Johns was rich and inhuen-
tial man, and people could not afford,
without some reason, to lose his favor.
She remembered it all now. Could he
in reality be such scorndrel


She could judge better about the
truth Of the story when she had seen
Ben. Who was Ben? Two of three
inquiries had amounted to nothing
The children spoke just as if every
body must know who Ben was. Was
he an uncle, cousin, hired man, or
what Evidently somebody very |
bid, by the way Hetty spoke of him.
But she shrugged her shoulders as she
looked out at the still pouring rain.


Young Ben Hazel, out in the field,
pitched up the last hay on the load,
eaned his pitchfork against tree, and
,ook off his straw hat to cool his moist
orehead. His gaze followed the hay
'art, went over the broad lands, and
'eturned.


"The hay is all gone in" he said,
With long breath of relief. ~ could
Tot afford to loose one load now; |
lon't know that l can do it, but if |
ould sell part of the land may. 1t
will be a hard pull though"


The young man followed the cart
nto the barn. The storm was at its
Ieight when he went toward the house
rom the back way. He stopped in
urprise, as he saw through the win.
low some one standing at the table
Eith arms bare to the elbow, mixing
our. 1t must be Matte.


No; those fair white arms are not
neither hers the slender,
.racefnl fnnrn As he cama nearnr