SHORT STORY.

Alexandra Herald and Central Otago Gazette, Issue 653, 9 December 1908, Page 7

SHORT STORY.

[PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL J> ARRANGEMENT.] MISS CAROLINE'S SUCCESSOR. By Hilda Richmond. "Well, do you suppose the fight is ended, now that Miss Caroline is Kone? one of the neighbours in a low tone, as the bearers carried the body of the mistress of the house down the walk to the waiting hearse. "That girl walking alone at the head.of the mourners is the one that gets the farm. I do hope she won't let anyone cheat her out of her rights, for I hear she's an orphan." "The Parkers are all fighters," said the other neighbour, looking the young woman over from head to foot. "She don't look a day over eighteen, if she's that, but you can't tell for that,thick veil. I suppose Squire Anson feels sorry, now that Miss Caroline's dead and gone, that he made her so much troubled', a ■"lt. was. six of one and half a dozen of the other,' said the other man, wich a little laugh, that brought him a reproachful nudge and frown from his wife. "I guess Miss Caroline didn't leave no unpaid accounts. If his cattle broke through into her fields, she was sure to get all the pasture and crops they destroyed back by letting acr horses- break through, before the season was over. I wouldn't buy a hoof off either place if I had to do without stockr-every animal trained to Jump the fences and break them down. There's the squire's bay. mare in the orchard this minute. It's a wonder Miss Caroline don't rise right up in her coffin." : "John P said his wife in a provoked tone. "Can't you remember you're at a funeral? i, "I'm not saying anything but the truth, Marthy," explained the man in a conciliatory tone. "Everybody m the neighbourhood knows the squire and Miss Caloline quarrelled to the last minute about that line fence, and I reckon the* squire is ready to take it up with her successor. I don't know as thy ever did any real harm with their fighting, for none of the neighbours took sides, and it furnished them something to do. If they had both been married and had families years ago they would have been too .busy for foolishness. You mind how Jones and me scrapped about our line before we. was married. After we got toned down' a little and had gone through measles and whooping cough and teething and mumps with our ,# youngsters, we had sense ehought to get the surveyor and have it run off "one day. and we found neither of us was right." . ... • ' , "Then let us hope Miss Caroline's successor is engaged to be married, and won't 'quarrel with the squire," said Mrs. Lee tartly. "Come on, John I 'We are always the last ones to start, wherever we go." - tc l always thought it was a pity the squire and Miss Caroline didn't get jsferried,,** said the neighbour, movii& along with them toward the place where the horses were tied. "That would have settled the difficulty without a bat of trouble." ~* "They wasn't either of them the marrying kind,''" said Mrs. Lee. "Miss Caroline wouldn't have married the best man alive, and the squire was just as set. He'll Hve and die a bachelor." '." ' '

"You can't always tell," said the man sagely. , "Tiefsquire's only about fifty, and he's pretty well fixed. Some woman may came, al ong and take him on for his property one of these days. He ain't call any of the but he's' got the money, and*; money, sees further than looks any day.' r ,-, p -" : .\: Squire Anson's bay mare browsed peacefully in the old orchard for three days after the funeral, and the neighbours began to think there must be one Parker in the family who was not a fighter. There was really nt* in the orchard for, though February was mild, -the dried and withered tufts afforded little sustenance, but it was against the squire's principles to go after any of his stock that broke through the - rickety old fence. He enjoyed.seeing Miss Caroline out with a stick helping the hired man chase the intruders over the fence, and it seemed now he was waiting to see if her niece would do I the same. Once the departed mistress of the farmhouse had filled old Sukey full of bird shot, proving false the statement that no woman can hit anything she fires at, but he had promptly retaliated by sending her Biindle flying home with a similar dose. Of course, Miss Caroline and the hired man, as well as the neighbours, had told Miss Eveline' Parker all about the line fence, so he waited three days to see what she would do. On the morning of the fourth day the squire could stand it no longer. The old doorbell clanged out a peal that seemed to proclaim war, and five minutes later the wife of the hired man ushered him into the stiff, old-fashion-ed parlour, where he sat on a haircloth chair waiting for the new mistress of the house to make her appearance.

"Good morning-.. Mr. Anson!" said Miss Parker. "Mr* Peters said you wanted to see me."

Even in the dim light of the parlor Squire Anson could make out that a young and beautiful girl stood before him. , She bad fair, fluffy hair, and even the deep mourning she wore did not detract from her charms. She seated herself easily in one of the old-fashioned uncomfortable chairs, and waited for him to state his errand.

"Ahem! Good morning. Miss Parker, ' he stammered. Then he cleared his throat and plunged into business. "Your aunt and J bad a little difficulty over the line fence between our farms. Miss Parker, and we were never able to build the new dividing fence, because we couldn't agree where it should go. Neither of us •vTated to stand the expense of getK%p; a surveyor, and we wouldn't go to law about it; so that's the way matters have stood for twenty years and more. Now, I'd like to build the fence and get my rights. I want to put my long meadow in corn next sDrinjr. and I can't have a lot of stock tramping over it. I'm sure you » want to do the square thing and have ] no trouble." With the keen, direct eyes fixed upon him the squire 'found it hard to go on, but his hostess evidently intended to allow him to run down before she said anything. "Of course, I don't want to talk about folks dead and gone, but truth compels me to say your aunt kept me out of my rights all

these years, if you'll agree to put the fence where it really belongs, it would be over this way three rods. You know three rods along a big farm makes quite a strip. I'm willing to say nothing about losing the use of that land all these years, if you'll agree to put the tence where it belongs and buiJd your half.".

Was the young woman going to sit j mute and motionless all morning? The squire began to get restless, but still she sat regarding him thoughtfully, and he felt he must keep on talking. Miss Caroline had always had the last word, and her share of the words before the last, if not more, but here was a decidedly different individual to deal with. "You can figure out for yourself what a strip three rods wide and two hundred rods long would bring, counting corn at fortv cents a bushel, which is very low'. However, I'm willing and anxious to do the fair thing and avoid trouble. What do you think about it?" This last struck him as a happy thought. He would make her express her opinion if possible. "You may put the fence whereve, you please," said the young lady, "but I will not promise to build my half very soon." She arose, and the squire understood that the interview was over.

In less than a week the whole neighbourhood knew that Squire Anson was hauling material for a strong new fence between himself and his new neighbour. Moreover, they heard from the squire himself that he was to put the fence whereever the correct boundary iwas, and that was on the line he claimed, of course. Opinion was divided as to whether or not the young woman was taking 'a wise course, but all agreed that "maybe the quarrel would be at an end. With his own hands the squire destroyed the wire-brush-fail-board-hedge-stone division fence, cutting away the brush, burning the weeds and rubhush, burying the stones, and giving the place a thorough cleaning up. It took ail the fine weather in March, Apnl and May to accomplish the work, but when it was done it added to the appearance of both farms. Then the square triumphantly erected a fine new fence on the line he had disputed for years, and settled do*-* to enjoy life. . . But hardly had the new fence been completed before the squire ssomething to excite bis. curiosity along the line fence. A party of surveyors workirfg across the country seemed to be fixing their attention on the new fence, and he hastened down to inquire the cause of their visit. The surveyors proved very non-committal, and the squire was forced to retire, with anxiety in his heart. "I'll just bet that girl has hired the line surveyed just because she thinks I put the fence over too far. It would be a pretty how-de-do if she should claim my fence, though I know I'm right in the matter, I might have known better than to trust a Parker after all the trouble I've had with Miss Caroline. I'll be/ the laughing stock of thev whole country." He sat heavily down on his porch to contemplate the threerod strip of waving corn that had been such a satisfaction to his soul, and spent the rest of the day thinking what the surveyors could want on his premises, if Miss Eveline Parker had not hired them.

The next day he put on his best clothes and went to call on his neighHe found her in a dainty white house dress with a black sash, to -show her respect for -her departed aunt, working- diligently on a bit of fine linen. "Good morning. Miss Parker!" he said cordially, determining to find out what he wanted to know, if possible. "Nice morning; isn't it?" "Very," said the young lady, politely offering her neighbour a chair. "Crops, look well," went on the squire. -' "I was just down yesterday to see the corn on that, boundary line, and it looks fine. Some surveyors tiad tramped out a few hills, but it'stthe best corn in the field." '*&%'■ does look well,"- agreed Miss Eveline.

"I wonder, why the surveyors were working down there said the squire boldly. "I know very well I wouldn't waste money having a line surveyed that I'm perfectly certain about, and I don't believe you would. I always did say I could manage my own affairs without hiring help in that way. and most people feel the same."

"It is a very good way to do," Miss Parker, smoothing the linen over-her knee and regarding the strawberry she was working with a critical eye. "Of course, it might be that Ridge and Giles across the road want to sell part of their property, and the surveyors had to come on my place to do some work," went on the Squire. "Surveyors charge like sixty for their work, and people don't have them unless they really must. For my part. I think" it's good policy to keep out of courts and the like and settle things among ourselves." But he had to go home without finding out whether his neighbour knew anything about the surveyors and their errand more a than he did or not. The next day he tried it again, armed with a basket of stawberries from bis well-kept garden. The strawberry on the piece of linen had put it into his mind to be neighbourly, and he set out, hoping for better re 7 suits. Miss Parker received him politely, as usual, and listened to bis Mk, but she vouchsafed no information to his many and plain bints. "I never saw such a girl!" he grumbled to himself on the way home. "She's no mors like her Aunt CaroUae than day is like night. Of course, it is a good thing to keep one's affairs quiet, but she carries it to extoemes. If I had a wife I'd want her to be like that, but when it comes to neighbours, it's different. I wonder—" and he stopped abruptly in the road. "She's a gentle, likeable girl and she might who kno%vs ? I've got quite a more than anyone else in the neighbourhood and she know's it. She's beard a'good deal about what I've said

about talkative women, and she wants to show me she can hold her tongue. I wonder if she got the whole farm clear, or has to pay off some of the heirs. I'll ask John Lee, for he knows all the neighbourhood affairs." The squire had ever been a man of action, so ,that every evening he betook himself to the home of Mr. Lee and found that gentleman seated with his wife enjoying the cool breeze on his front porch, aftej; a hard day's work in the meadow.

"Well. Squire, I see you and Miss Caroline's successor are getting along first rate," said Mr. Lee, after some ramblintr conversation about the fine weather and good crops. "She's got sense." said the =ou :: promptly. "As soon as I explained how things stood, she told me to put the fence where it belonged. I suppose I've got the reputation among my neighbours of being mean and stingv, but I never charged her a cent for cleaning up that old brush row. And I didn't come onto her for a big

bill of damages for losing the use of cuat laud ail these years. Caroline's dead and gone and her niece isn't responsible lor her acts. 1 don't suppose she got the farm without paying oh some of the other heirs, for she said she couldn't build tor halt of the fence for some time."

"There are no other direct heirs," explanied Mr. Lee: "Caroline had some nephews and neices—she always called them nephews and nieces—but in reality they were no kin. Her lather had been married twice and his first wife had children -when he married her. No, Eveline has the whole place and money besides. Miss Caroline was not one to let a. cent slip away trom her."

"She certainly kept all she got and some that didn't belong to her, though 1 don't want to make remarks about the dead, s "' said the squire. "She kept me out of the use of that* strip all these years, but I'm not going to make trouble. That poor orphan will have enough to contend with keeping the property together without trying to pay. back debts, though I could collect if I wanted to." _■ -,

"She ought to have a husband to manage things for her," said Mr. Lee, in spite of the pressure of his wife's foot under cover of darkness. "I'm just afraid some worthless young scamp will marry her for her money and waste it.. Of course, a girl can't farm, but she'd better stay single than to take some foolish young fellow who knows less than she does." The squire went home determined to lose no time. Next morning he picked some more strawberries and set forth down the road. Just as he reached the new fence a carriage drove up and several men got out and began liboking over the ground. From across the fields came she surveyors, and the squire almost forgot his errand in watching. "What are you going to do here?" he asked, when he could hold in no longer. "We are locating the new trolley line that is to connect Leesburg with the? city," explained one of the men. "We have been quietly looking up the right of way and expect to get nearly to Leesburg to-day." "You'll have to pay me for my new fence and the corn you destroy and the land, if you go through here," remarked the squire. "We have already settled with Miss Parker for the right of way," said the man. "We surveyed through here the other day and found the fence was off the line. The road will not be built on your premises." Squire Anson stormed and blustered, but all to no purpose. Finally he cooled down and remembered his errand. After all, what did it matter if he managed both farms? He was almost ashamed of himself as he caught sight -of Mips Eveline sitting- on the, jjich with a smile on her face, still working at her embroidery. It would be rather nice to always find her on the porch waiting for him, he reflected, and if she had just charged enough for the right of way everything would be all right. "I am very much obliged to you, Mr. Anson," said Miss Parker when he had finished his little speech, "but I am engaged to be married. Perhaps you noticed the young man surveying the trolley line down there. He is the chief engineer of the road. We are to be married next September." "But he,is only an engineer," persisted the squire, hoping to induce her to change her mind. "I have three hundred acres of land and money px the bank besides. Are you sure he is? not marrying you for your property." "No, I think he isn't," said the young lady with a smile. "His father is president of the road, and Fred has k a few dollars of his'own. He never has had the reputation qf being a,,fortune hunter."

Squire Anson sadly took up his basket of strawberries and departed. "Talk about Caroline- being tricky," he mused, as-he trudged homeward. "I'm thankful she wasn't like that niece, of be in the poorhouse this very minute. I'll let my stock break through every chance I have to pay her back for her trickery. No, I can't do that either. Tire trolley line will t build two, substantial fences between us, and keep them in good repair. If Caroline and I hadn't quarrelled over that fence years ago and broke our engagement, I might be the uncle of that girl and maybe a director of the new road. Well! Well! I guess John Lee is right. Nobody ever got very far ahead of the. Parkers and I don't believe they ever will."