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About Omaha daily bee. (Omaha [Neb.]) 187?-1922 | View Entire Issue (Jan. 15, 1905)
J3 Uuk - &cuir&cL iJcg XLJ MM give w VVY Vf i HE hay harvest had begun on the Sunnyhlll P W I farm that day. Mr. Hurst had engaged a band I I of Irish harvestmen on the day before, and 4 I they made the meadows merry and gay. " It's a broiling day for the poor bodies, said Mrs. Hurst, "and they must be Urouthy moreover." So, as the maids were busy, either In the 1ST; I dairy or In the preparation of dinner, Jenny volunteered to carry to the harvesters the can of beer which her mother drew for them. " I want to see what the Irishmen look like," A she, said as she triped oft. The harvesters lifted their heads and smiled ploasedly when she came over the stile to them with the welcome beer. They were none the less pleased to note that the bearer of their beeir looked so winsome as what Jenny did in her plain gown and big. unadorned rush hat with the red locks of hair falling from umler it. Then, Bhe had a gay smile on her face that would make welcome for her anyhow. " It's the masther's daughter," ono of the men said " Troth, an' he's a wealthy man owns her, If he didn't own threa hpence In the wurrl' afther." another replied. She said: " Good morning to you all. Ye maun be thirsty, I have brought you some beer." " Good mornln', young lady. An" God reward ye. But sure the sight o" yer . own purty face is plenty for us both malt and drink." " I suppose," Jenny said, " that's what Is known as Irish hinmnv. Hut. even though the sight of me may relieve your drouth, you'll find this beer helpful, I think." A shapely young fellow, sun tanned, threw down an arm ful of grass that he carried and came forward for a drink. He was thirsty and drank greedily thv frothing mugful which she presented to him. ' You are thirsty?" she said. " Shall I give you another?" " Thank you, miss, no," he said, as he went off. His hair was Jet black and cluBtred and curled beneath the soft hat, whose drooping leaf shaded a handsome coun tenance. Jenny had noted this as he threw back his head, drimking. ' But he Isn't so agreeable a fellow as his comrades," she aid to herself, a little bit vexedly. "I Intended asking him his name and a question or two Just to be kind to him, for ho looks lonely. Now I'll not." She gave to every one of the otners to drink and had something pleasant to say to each. Her hat dropped off her at the black headed boy's feet once that she passed him. She paused whilst he laid down . burthen and picked up the hat for her. She took it from his hand and said " Thank you!" abruptly. Her father asked Jenny nt dinner what did she think of his Irishmen, for he had Just been hearing that it was she Oore the beer to them. " They're delightful fellows, father," she said. " And so . very pleasant. When the sun blisters them they retort on him with a Joke. All of them, that Is, are pleasant but one. Well for you that he's quite an unpleasant fellow; for otherwise I do believe you'd have me falling In love with him." " That's the curly headed dark chap?" " Aye, the very lad. What's his name, do you know?" (" Connor I believe, Connor Something or other. And you thought him unpleasant. I think you muBt have been mistaken. That young fellow took my eye. I think him, maylie, a bit grave, but gracious. To tell you the truth, I was struck to find suoh a bearing and manner In a harvest man's garb." " Ret, father, couldna a harvestman be a gentleman?" ' Ah well, I suppose so. But, Jenny, you wanted me to understand that this lad is farther off a gentleman than the average harvestman." esesscssssssssssoooescco A IN OLD COAT. TEPHEN BIRT and Mary, his wife, had fallen SI out, not by any means for the first time. Both I were young, hot tempered, high spirited, and I prone to Jealousy. Today matters had come to a climax. The two young people, white, angry, with blazing eyes, stood facing one another. It did not make matters any better that they spoke slow ly and deliberately. "I'm tired of these scenes." Mary said, "sick to death of them. I can't go out, I can't talk to an old friend, but what you accuse me of flirting. I can't spend a day with a girl chum but what you say I neglect you. I can't" " You never spend a day with me; you haven't given me a whole day since we returned from our honeymoon. 1 might be the greatest stranger Instead of your husband of six months for all the notice you take of me. You're cold as an Icicle, and Indifferent as as " " You are! I shape my course entirely in accordance with yours. If we do go out together you are never by my side from the time we enter a House to the time we leave it. You can laugh and talk with other women; you never have a Joke to tell me, or a sm' for me. We never ought to have mar ried; I'm sorry, heartily sorry, we ever did." His hands, renting on the back of a chair, gripped it tightly. " You mean that?" he said, his tone changing, his expres sion hardening; "you really mean it?" Her clasped hands gripped one another. " Bo much so that I mean to do what I can to rectify our iiu.tiuiie. e 1-nni live in peace logeuier. A nave inea; I dure say i do you that much Justice you have tried; it seems impossible. That being so "her voice was level, hard, though her heart was beating In loud thump, " the best thing we can do Is to part. Fortunately I have my own Income; I only have to leave this house, and make a home for myself elsewhere." Her words startled, staggered him. He made a step for ward, caught her hands. " You mean that?" he asked again. " You are serious?" " I I never was more nerluus in my lifl." " You would leave me?" "This is your house. Since it is best we should part, 1 must leave you." ell," she only replied pettishly. V carTH'U me oer 10 Ul narvrauiini uijf. duo went arourtd among them, the can in one hand and the mug In the other, serving it out to them. All of them came to drink except Connor. After Jenny had served all who came to the can she stood by chatting to the men as they wTought. She seemed to have forgotten all about young Connor today. She had her hack turned to him as she spoke to the ethers. By and by she said good morning to them and moved off. But ns she topped the stile It was that she observed Connor, for "he Immediately turned round. " You, lad with the frizzy hair!" she called. Connor looked up from his work respectfully. " Have you had a drink?" , " No " " Then why dldna yon say so?" a b't irritably, for Jenny was annoyed at being needlessly brought back. A blush of embarrassment overspread Connor's coun tenance. " I didn't sny so leoause I do not want a drink; I thank you all the same, lady. I do not drink beer." "Hear him!" she said. "And he scarce let me over the stile yesterday till he rushed at me; and I was thankful he left the mug, he irank so greedily." The men laughed heartily at the sally. Connor's blush deepened. " I was very thirsty yesterday," he said, " and would nave drunk anything." " And you'ra not thirsty today?" Incredulously. " I am not." " I don't believe you. You are Just dying with thirst." Jenny dipped the mug In the can as she spoke, and her eyea followed the mug. An expression of surprise came upon young Connor's f e. "Here, drink that! And be thankful that I saw you be fore I left the field and came and coaxed you. I'm afraid your mother spoiled you. Take it, I sny, and drink it." Connor hesitated as if he would fain refuse. But the ex pression of Irritation In the girl's voice and look compelled him to obey. He drank almost to the bottom of the mug. " Didn't I say you were shamming." Jenny said as she Inverted the mug and watched the small "leavings" stream down upon the grass. " Young man." she said patronizingly, " when you've been a little longer away from your mother and come oftener to Scotland you'll soon get quit of these delicate notions; you'll learn to ask, and no' wait to be asked. And you'll give malr satisfaction, too. to them that hire you, wnen you learn that." Connor nodded and thanked her and resumed his work. But from being at first embarrassed he showed finally that he felt stung besides. With a triumphant smile then Jenny tripped away. Jenny recounted the affair with malignant delight on that evening to 'I,lza Galbraith. " Do you know," she said, "he was about the only one In the field who didn't show any eagerness to compliment me yesterday. I thought him a conceited and stubborn fellow, moreover, and I said to mys'if I'd pay him off. And I did It. lie's Just the sort of lad one loves to tempt. He doesn't seem to know his station." And Jenny lost little time pitting into practice her "tempting" program. She managed to cross and vex the black haired boy In several little ways that delighted her. But a couple of nights nfter a magnificent opportunity was thrown In her way. It was Just nfter work had for the even ing ceased. Her father mentioned that he should have driven over to Combe that day to order some things from Mr. Anderton, but he hadn't time. And now both lie and the permanent hands would be too busily engaged till bed time working nt the machines. Combe was seven miles off. " I'll go, father." " You cannot, dear. There's no one to drive you; and I'll not lot you go alone." "That's all right; I'll soon find a driver." " One of the harvestmen? It wouldn't be fair to ask them, Jenny. They've done their day's work, and a hard one, and they'll be going to their beds on the barn loft In an hour. They have to be up at B, you know." " You Just go to your machines, father. Leave the other matter to me." Jenny ran out Into the farmyard. The Irishmen were sitting about, after having had supper and before retiring to bed. She looked all round. " Who are ye lookln" for, miss?" j,r for that young fellow what do you call him? with the black head." " Oeh, Connor. Connor's gone up the lane, sthrol'.in'." As she went up the lane she heard a merry whistle ahead. And then she caught sight of Connor strolling leisurely, flick ing the bushes with a rod as he went. " Hi, there!" Connor turned. He stopped whistling immediately he saw who called and came towards her with inquiring, re spectful look. " My father orders you to go to Combe on a message at once." " Where is Combe, please?" " A matter of seven miles off, going west." " Is there I beg your pardon, Is there anything wrong?" " No," Jenny said, " there Isn't anything wrong. And I don't see any necessity for you putting the question. I'm sure all you've got to do Is to obey." They were walking side by side down the narrow lane; and the tall, thick bushes hung over. Jenny looked up into his face as she spoke; but, determined as her look was, Im perious almost, her eyes fell when they met the calm gaze of Connor's. " Where can I see your father?" he asked. " There Is no necessity for seeing him I have his orders." " But I want to tell him that I have done my day's work," he said coolly. " What? And that you refuse to go?" "And that I refuse to go-yes." " Did you never love me?" She tried to draw her hands from his, but failed; he held them closely clasped, waiting for her answer. " Perhaps we were both too young to under stand what love should be," she answered " Perhaps we took mutual admiration for a deeper feeling. Anyway "she felt a fear tightening round her heart as she spoke" It is quite cleear the love has waned. Anything Is better than being together, with constant scenes. It will be wiser to part." He tried to draw her to him; she held away. "I will not let you go!" he said; "you are mine my wife I love you. If I have seemed Indifferent, it it has been only this a man ex pects his wife to know he loves her, not to need telling day after day; that is a lover's business. Mary, If we have made mistakes surely we can put them right; If we have disappointed one another and you, I must confess, have disap pointed me can't we begin all over again, wipe out the last six months?" Her face softened for a minute; now once more It hardened. So she had dlsappolonted him she who had done everything she could to make him happy while he " I have no wish to begin again," she an swered. " We have tried to be happy, I sup pose; we have been miserable. I, you say, have disappointed you; you have disappointed me. I would rather not talk any more. I will tell the servants I am going on a Journey. I don't want to make things disagreeable for you. And X shall co today." He dropped her hands; he looked at her for a moment at her white, set face, her eyes that did not soften In the least as his glance met hers. Then a proud, boyish rage entered his heart. If Bhe could go, if she could leave him, then. Indeed, she did not, never had. loved him. " You will please yourself, of course." he answered, " but whether you remain w ith me or leave me you are still my wife you are still bound to me; b good enough not to forget that." "See. young fellow! my father would pay you off In stantly." He smiled. ' Your father would be welcome to do so. If It pleased him." "And you wouldn't bo sorry?" " Certainly not," bitterly. "Then, young man. let me assure you that father will not miss you much, if he nas to do without you.' " I didn't suppose he oul i." "Nor will any one el?. for that matter." The bitterness now was with the girl. Connor lifted his eyes and looked at her with not a little surprise. " You need not take me for a fool. I don't dream that the dismissing of a poor Irish harvester should matter any thing to anybody except to himself." " So; you refuse point blank to oley my father. Now, sir, I order you to harness the gray pony in the trap and drive me to Combe. It is I who bear the message, but my father Insisted on my being acc impanled by one of the hands. Our regular men are too busy. You seem to me to be the most likely of these Irishmen to handle a pony. I suppose some of them don't know which end of him should go Into the shafts. 1 order you, now. Will you disobey?" " 1 11 not." " Go?" " Not disobey." " So you do not wish to be dismissed?" " It isn't that, miss." "O! then?" " It's a sort of notion we have In Ireland always to humor a woman." Jenny did not quite knew how to take this, though she turned it over in her mind several times. " I think." she said, " It's a sort of notion with you in Ireland to be good at giving an excuse. Still, I'm glad I've made you show that you do set some value by your present employment. You are not engaged to smile nor paid Tot it. Yoke the pony at once." Connor thought her a tyrannical, domineering girl. As, with her help, he yoked ihe pony he said to himself that, with all the wealthy portion which must be hers, he shouldn't like to be the unfortunate one who'd win her affections and be saddled with them for life. She took her seat on the trap, and Connor took his seat beside her and drove her to Combe without a single word passing the Hps of either all the way. Coming back, too, the case was likewise, except that she had to rebuke him for driving the pony too fast, and that she followed this up a minute or two after by curtly remarking that she observed he had driven a little before, but not much. Connor con fessed it was so; and added that he wished she had pitched upon a better driver. To this latter remark Jenny made no reply until she arrived at her Journey's end, when as she de- Bcended from the trap she said cuttingly: " I wish I had got a better driver." The dart hit its mark, for Connor, as he led the pony Into the yard, smiled the smile of one who smarted. But he thought better rf Miss Hurst when, on the second Saturday night, she Invited all the Irishmen to step Into tho parlor, where she would play the airs and sing for them the songs of their own country. They streamed bashfully Into the (to them) gorgeous room, with their soft hats clutched awkwardly in their hands, and tried to make themselves as uncomfortable as possible sitting upon the corners of chairs and extreme edge of the lounges. She served them with a drink first, making them at the some time sit more se curely and more at ease. " You were In somebody's parlor before," she said drily enough to Connor, who had already seated himself with natural ease, and who showed much less mauvalse honte than, It Is probable, sihe had expected. In response to the hearty request of ne of their number, all the harvestmen stood up and drank " happiness and pros perity to the kind hearted young lady (God bliss her) an' to lvery sowl belongln' to her an' to the farm and all's on it on' may they nlver know loss nor cross, Amain." Mr. Hurst and Mrs. Hurst came in and took seats also among the men. Then Jeany sat lown to the piano, and throwing back her red locks from off her shoulders, rattled out an Irish Jig that made the eyes of every rough and warm hearted fellow In the room sparkle, and the heels of him ltoh to be hopping to It, and every nerve In his body tingle, as each familiar note ran along It. But when, in a sweet, melodious voice she sang them "The Wearln' o' the Green" they almost shouted aloud to relieve their pent up enthu WWl 1 w aP ASS 5 0 And when the sky grew bright, He beamed and smdet'- As a fond father might On a stricken child. The lilies, like stately dames, Stood still and cold t But the poppies lay like flames On the dark brown mould. Six lilies turned to the wett. In a. garden fur, And the south wind towed in & est Some poppies there Down nunc 4 storm oi tail In ruthless showers, And the tun looked wan and pale For low of the flowers. siasm. " Hurrah!" one of them burst out when the last note died away; and " llurran! Hurrah!" in response escaped a d izen throats. She turned her had and repaid them with fi gracious and winning smile that remind-sl them of the Jenny who had dawned on them in the meadow the first day they were there. And Connor, instantly forgetting nil his soreness, stood to his feet, and. making a low bow. said: " Ceud mile buldheachas duit a hundred thousand thanks to you. gentle lady." Her eyes rested on him for the space ot several seconds In a nonchalant manner; and then she sld " O!" carelessly. The black haired boy. completely cov ered with confusion, flopped into his seat awkwardly and his face held a flame for many minutes after. At her request then several of the men In turn eang Irish ballads. "Come. Connor." said me of them, "give us a song yerself that'll delight our hosirts give us 'Mo Chailin Alulnn liiuulh.' that ye charm the birds off the bushes with. And a fitter or a truer song ye couldn't give." " What does ' Mo Chailin Aluinn Ruadh ' mean?" Jenny asked of a man near her. " It manes yerself. mls-s." said the man. A swift blush overspread Jenny's countennnce. Connor hastily interposed: "'Mo Chailin Alulnn Ruadh. miss, Is the name nf an old Irish ballad I have always been find of. It means. In Kngl'sh. 'My beautiful red haired girl.' I sang It to them to shorten the road on the day we were trudging here." "Sing ft now. again, since you have such a Chailin Alulnn Ruadh present to warm yer heart to it," said the former Interpreter. Connor shook his head and asked to be excused. Where i pon Jenny Hurst threw back her head of gold and laughed a laugh that made him shuffle his feet nervously. " I suppose ha! ha! he Is afraid I'll take it to myself ha ! ha !-ha !" Instantly Connor rose up and sang " Mo Chailin Alulnn Ruadh " with such depth of feeling and sweetness and soft ness as held all spellbound and brought forth their wildest applause when he had finished. Then, ns It was late, the party broke up. Jenny Hurst, smiling sweetly, as she well knew how, bowed them out of the door. To Connor, who was last, she essayed to speak, for she meant to tell him how genuinely she appreciated his lovely song; but he only looked In her face an Instant, coolly, and with an inclination of the head passed on, leaving Jenny glancing after him with a pucker In her white brow. When she turned Into the room her father playfully re buked her for having an, unworthy prejudice against the black haired boy. "And I cannot get over the belief that there Is something uncommon about him." he added. " t'ncnmmon?" said Jinny. " Yes. father, uncommonly il' bred, I should say. He needs to be taught to know his sta tionand to keep It." " Weel, weel, Jenny! Weel, weel! Women Is main queer." As they supped their dishes of oaten porridge Mr. Hurst's Invariable nightcap he said: " Nae matter though, Jenny ye're rid o' the black haired boy now, for he's paen hame on Monday." The spoon fell from Jenny's fingers into the dish with a clatter, and she said "No!" with such vehement Incredu lousness as made her father hastily look up. The red was chasing the white, and the white chasing the red In her countenance. Her father looked at her long and severely, and then looked to her mother questlonlngly. " Ma'am," said he to the latter, " what's the matter wl" yer daughter?" Her mother, gazing at Jenny In surprise also, only shook her head puzzledly. " The news of ane o' my Irish harvestmen gaen awa has a funny effect on her." Jenny was now much calmer. She said: " It's that I don't think I treated him, maybe, as fairly as I might. I'm sorry." Her father looked at her again sharply for a moment, then shook his head, and without another word finished his meal. But when ho stood up to leave the room he paused at the door and said to his wife: "Hey! I think this hired han' "there was a severe emphasis on hired han'" canna be awa too soon for the peace of our house." Then he gave Jenny a look and went out. On Sunday morning Jenny was out and about at an early hour. In the back yard the Irishmen from their hayloft were already astir. She crossed the path of the black haired boy and bade him a kind good morning. He returned the salutation ns kindly and was hurrying on when she put a hand on his arm and said: " I beg your pardon. Is It true that you leave us the mor row?" " Yes," he said, with not a little surprise. Then there was an uncomfortable pause. " And the harvesting Is only right begun?" she said. " Yes; but I find I must get home again." " Are you are you has my unkindness got anything to do with your leaving?" The black haired boy was first, for a moment, silenced by surprise, and the next moment laughed a slight laugh. But that instant a flush mantled her brow, and he hastily said: " I beg your pardon, hut " " If every Irishman Is as ungentlemanly as you," she was saying cuttingly. "Gentlemanly, miss," he said gravely; "I'm your father's servantman !" " 'TIs wonder ye remember that, even occasionally." " If there was a chance of me forgetting It you have taken care to spoil it more than once," he said, with a Bhade of bitterness. "Good morning, miss, and good-by!" " Hold ye! I'm sorry." " Well, that is nice of Good-by, kindly." you, miss, and condescending. " Then then It Is well, good-by!" with a sudden de cision, nnd, turning away, she went towards the house. The black haired boy looked after her and shook his head perplexedly. Jenny walked to church with 'Liza Galbraith that morn ing, and, to 'Liza's astonishment, only the curtest remarks could be got from her all the way. And in the church when, after singing, all the others had eat down, Jenny Hurst re mained standing and staring vacantly before her, till 'Liza, covered with confusion for such an action In the face of a staring congregation, forcibly plucked her down by the ekirts. As they returned home 'Liza Galbraith said, with bully ing boldness: "Jenny Hurst! Tell me this minute what is troubling ye." "Nothing, 'Liza Galbraith." BY ALICE MAUD He scarcely saw his way as he crossed the room and left her left her with a great linger in his heart against her. " She never loved me," he said to himself, "never, never; let her go!" He .found his way to his study, sat down, staring blankly before him for a while, and scattering his papers heedlessly on tho floor. Then his head dropped upon his hands, and his eyes were wet. As the door closed after him Mary trem bled. So he had accepted the situation! Then Indeed be did not love her. She had expected pleading, protestations; she had meant to for give him; she had thought, Indeed, they might begin again. "He never loved me," she said to herself. " I did not mean to leave him. I shall go now; I owe it to rry pride to go now." She dragged her steps to her room; she must put her things together. Where she should go she did not know and did It matter? If she was not with him she did not care where she was. There were plenty of hotels, but how lonely she would be! She opened her wardrobe and flung dress after dress upon the floor. She must tuke some thing with her; it didn't matter what. Where ever she was he would not be there to see her. The light was growing gray outside; the room seemed cold. She wondered what he was doing. Ho had not gone from the house; he was waiting to see her off, perhaps wondering why she was so long. Could she have looked at him then she would have seen him sitting with a miniuture In his hand, looking at the pretty face with tear dimmed eyes would have heard his words, "My little wife! 'seen him lift It to his lips. She had taken out all the dresses now. There was still something at the back of the wardrobe something soft. Bhe took It down, drew it out, und a swift rush ot color swept her face. In tier hands she held an old velvet smok- J1A. M "Jenny Hurst! There's something or some person gone against ye." Jenny made no response for the space of two minutes, during which long time 'Liza's mesmeric rye was kept se verely upon her. Jenny gave up the contest In dispalr. "'Liza Galbraith." said she. with bold desperation, "I'm In love. I think." "And I think, too. Who Is he?" " And he doesn't care n straw for me." " We'll soon change that. Who Is he?" " 'Liza Galbraith. he's cruel and worthless, and a prig, and he doesn't know his place." " I know. I know. I know all that. Who is he? Who li he?" "Ho goes tomorrow-thank God where my eyes will never be hurt by the sifiht of him more. He's an Irishman, 'Liza Galbraith! He's one o" my father's hired hands! My brain will burst. Good-by!" "Walt. Are yi mad. Jenny Hurst?" "Ay. mad. If ye like it-mad!" she burst out. "Good-by, 'Liza." and she firmly waved her off upon her own road. The black haired boy. after bidding good-by to his fel lows, was. with his stick and bundle, early upon the ro:'.d on Mondav morning. He struck out briskly for the nearest railway station. He had not gone a mile of the road when a trap, driven by a young lady, overtook him. "HI! you, there wouldn't you like a lift for a bit?" and the trap drew up. "Get up there behind If ye would." "Many thanks, miss." he said, touching his cap and mounting, ns desired. " Didn't I see you harvesting with Mr. Hurst?" " Yes; I have been Willi liim for a fortnight." "Did he not please you? Or not treat you Well?" "He couldn't treat me better, miss. But, I find I have o go home." ( " I know. You weren't getting good enough pay. I'll tell you, young man. my father. Mr. Galbraith. is sorely In need of a few more hands. Stay with him and I promise you watts nnd a half." " You are kind, young lady, nnd I give you my hearty thanks. But It Isn't a matter of wages. I've got to go home." " Well, let me tell ye without any more beating about the bush, young fellow. I know what's the matter." Connor looked at her ami smiled amusedly. "Miss Hurst Is fond of teasing which you, too sensitive, took for pers. cutlon." He opened his eyes In wonder. " I know it." she went on. " I know nil about It. She used to tell me of It regularly. And now the poor girl Is distracted that you. a stranger, nnd poor, should feel yourself driven away. Get over the silly notion; go back, and let the poor, foolish girl be comforted." And forthwith she reined In the pony. " Hut, but really, really, miss, ye astound me. I glvo ye my solemn word that Miss Hurst's harmless teasln' has no more to do with my leavln' than the man In the moon " "Then why go?" She at once found herself treating this poor boy ns an equal and she did not know why. He paused, then smiled. "Miss Galbraith, excuse me, r a f.lGn. . but it Is a private matter with which Miss Hurst has noth ing remotely to do that draws me home." " So urgently?" ' Well " " Can't you wait even another day to tell Miss Hurst what you have Just told me, and ease her mind?" " Does Miss Hurst really wish I should?" " I wish It. If Miss Hurst knew I was going to ask thi- favor of you she would have hotly forbidden it. I ask ye. And I know what the girl Is suffering, and how mean and despicable you'll be if you refuse to satisfy her from your own lips." " I-I " " You'll do the act of a gentleman, of course." And in a Jiffy the trap was, to Connor's bewilderment turned upon the road, and he was bowling back the way he came. He fell back in his seat resignedly. "You'll work do as little as ye please at my father's place till evening. Then I'll arrange to have Jenny Hurst out for a walk and happen across you." Instead of one day, the black haired boy remained In his new employment. Then ho went home. In the month of July of the following year the Dublin newspapers gave conspicuous prominence to "A Prominent Pressman's Romance," In which was detailed how Mr. Pat rick Daniel O'Connor, the well known and rapidly rising Journalist, In order to write up from the 1 lslde the life of the Irish harvestmen abroad, had traveled to Scotland under an Incognito, got employment with a wealthy farmer, and in the harvest field, under the guise of a poor, .struggling Irish boy, won the love of his master's pretty and accom plished daughter, the belle of the countryside, and, two days since, led to the altar Miss Jenny Hurst of Hazelhurst, Scot land. Copyright: 1004. MEADOWS lng coat; but the sight of It brought back a flood of mem ories. She remembered so well he hud strolled over to her father's house wearing It; he had found her in the conser vatory, tending the plants; he had told her then that he loved her, had taken her for the first time in his arms, kissed her, gained her promise ttiat she would be his wife. As she stood with the coat In her hand she remembered Bhe had beene so happy; the could recall each word he had said, eaeli kiss he bad given; and his nrms, his dear arms, how tenderly, how closely, how fondly they bud held her! She sank into a chair, the coat pressed now close against her breast. A little sob rose In her throat, teurs came Into her eyes. It was all over nil over! His arms would never hold her again, his lips would never kiss her more! Outsldo Is grew darker still. She felt sad. lonely, and Bhe must go soon. She had cut the ground under her feet, burned her bouts behind her; he would be wondering why slut did not go. If only he would come to her! After till he did love her; she knew that well. They had been foolish proud. If only ho would come! She lifted the coat. Then, while In the semi-darkness tho color burned in her face, she threw It around her drew tho arms right across her. A faint smell of smoke clung to It yet. She could almost fancy she was in his arms, that their quarrel was a dream, that She was not leaving his home and hers forever. He had laughed at her often for keeping the old coat, for loving It almost ns though it were something human. Sho would take It away with her; he would never miss it. And then, quietly, she began to cry, her soft cheek pressed to the old velvet, sometimes her quivering lips. If only he would come to her! How could she go away? How long she cried, quietly but bitterly how soon, utterly exhausted, she dropped to sleep she did not know. The opening of the door aroused her; the switching on of the electric light. And once more husband and wife almost children both looked at one another. Looked, and understood that parting was Impossible, the love was still there; looked while, as his eyeB fell upon the old velvet coat, und he understood, n flush swept her face. Then, with one swift stride, wife ami coat all were taken Into a passionate embrace, words of love and forgiveness stumbled across their lips, und parting was something that would never come while life should last. fietieve you.