HIRAM'S SON-IN-LAW.

Oamaru Mail, Volume XXXV, Issue 9729, 4 January 1908, Page 2 (Supplement)

HIRAM'S SON-IN-LAW.

(By Lizzie Gaines Wilcoxson.)

Old Hiram- Dabney was a man of few prejudices, but their fewness in number was aimply made up for by strength of sentiment toward! each. 'So intensely did old Hiram object to all that appeared to him objectionable that it wouldi be hard to tell what was his pet aversion. It wbuld be safe to say, however, that he hated nothing on earth more than he did a man schoolteacher. Yes; a man teacher might be placed) at the head of the. list. In all the ten years of: his School Trusteeship, this was" the first time he had allowed: a man to teach in his "de-striek."" And it was a sort- of forced" choice .with him.. The development of Satan in the two Buggins boys had demonstrated that women were unqualified l on muscular grounds to instruct in District Jf umber .Sine'...

Therefore, when it. came time to hire a fall teacher, Hiram, hitched up his waggon and drove off to the county.seat. He id.t terviewedi the School Superintendent and filed his specifications for a teacher. "I want a mam, by glrm! I want-one that kin lick th' bopts offri two uv th' meanest little cusses in ten States; They've raised th' devil in bur de-strick fer er couple uv years, now, and jis'-.because they've got a all-fired dashin' giown-up brother with er gig- an' red cutter, thar ain't airy a maid er--.amy. other kind uv er woman, thet'll skin them two boys ei-live ez they'd oughter. . I want er, man, by Jerushy, thet'E snatch th' tope uv their heads .off." ',.:•':'■

The Superintendent lent a grave and becoming, attention to these remarks. He was an old-timer an. his office, .'and well accustomed to hearing how mean, the Other Fellow's children are ! He- sent: out Stephen Benson. Stephen was a bright, goodJ-looking young fellow. He had won his education by a hard fight, and had stopped short of college because of the imperative necessity to earn.

When he arrived and stated his business, old Hiram.looked,him over with critical eye. He thought him too slim and pale to make a. firstrrafe fighter, but then Hiram did not expect .to find).an article in men teachers that would suit him an all particulars. It was just a case of picking- the best of a bad lot.

"Wall," he invited, "cum out ter th' barn. TU talk to ye while I polish my hairness."

Stephen balanced himself on a-sawbnek, while the "old man took down, a set of fine, nickcl-piatedharaesd that hung a'bout the wall.

"Xaow," he drawled, holding up a bridle bitj and l squinting at it with one eye shut ' Kin you cut cord wood*" '"I dare say," 6aid Stephen*, unamilingly "Oh, you dare Bay," mimicked Hiram, "but lan you'" "Would that be included in my duties here'" 1 Hiram-polishedf a knob with great attcn tion before replying. "Xope," he answered casually, "but I 'low you'll need ihet heft uv forearm." Stephen/' <£d not volunteer •any observa tied to this, and Aram spent another two minutes diligently scouring ' Ever kill anybody," hcasked. presently "Xo," answered > Steplien. shortly. He lis a trifle Jacking m philosophical pa tience with this" type-of school guardian audi, bis mental processes. ' Well, what can you-oof" 'I can teach yohfcscllgjSl;if *bat is what you want dtine, it, too If there is Anything elre—" s. He had spoken heat -.than he f intended, but experiencehad taught himi that there were tintes when a mild temper l

I-- - . ' ■■ . ''- ' .like patience, was iot'a virtue; though there was but little'danger-of Ins erring in that respect. . •„ < - Hiraim rubbed slowly and! carefully up and' down the length of a. pair of reins With a far-away expression, he -vv iped softly and affectionately around and around, thfe big- handsome collars He appeared 4 U '^ C oblivious of Stephen's existence. Stephen, lose and buttoned up his coat. It was a choleric eye that he bent-upon. Hiram. "Have you anything further to say, Mr Dabney " "About what*" mildly inquired the old fello«, drawing his grimy fingers through a wisp of chin, whiskers, and looking up at Stephen with a. guileless eye. Stephen's lips were compressed thinly. "I understood that you were looking far a man to teach your school. I did not .Tide twelve miles over these reads for fun I guess you've had! time enough to grte me my answer," saidl Stephen, and turned toward the door. "I wish you -good after noon."

"Oh, say, young man," said Hiram, asi one communicating a trivial bit of news, "vou're hired."

"What'" said Stephen, looking backward, unappeased' "I said you wuz hired, you an' them gimciack diplomys uv joum," remarked Hiram, nodding pleas antly. I For a moment it appeared as if Stephen would scorn to be lured, but after a 6ec«nd of angry indecision, he faced about, and, putting one foot upon a chopping block, rested! forward! on that knee. , "Look here. Mr Dabney," he said, "if I am hired to teach jour school, I intend to be the teacher. I am going to dk> things exactly my way or not at all I guess you understand." At this Hiram's smile was almost boyish, it was so bland) and 1 guileless "Oh, you're hired all right," he af firmed. He added a hospitable invitation foi Stephen to stop overnight, but Stephen declined', sayinsr that he-had a hired!. horse and . wanted! to take it back to town that- night. "Wal, come in an' git supper, ainyhowv"

Stephen thought it better not to reject this extension of the olive Branch, so he led his horse into the barn for a. feed andl accompanied; ,the oldi man to the house for the six o'clock supper. Andl it was | then and there that he met and fell in love with Mary Dabney. Mary was eighteen, andl a delicate, feminine edition of her father. "That's my darter," was the formal introduction Hiram accorded; and Stephen took her strong, 6hapely hand in a brief clasp, and then turned to greet Mrs 'Hiram, a good, phlegmatic bout, remarkable for nothrnigi unless it was excellence in biscuit-making. it wasi plain that Mary inherited- both her looks and her personality from her father ; and that she j wasi spoiled' was ad, patent as 1 it was natural. -

"After supper Stephen left, to return to the district, the following 'Sunday, ready to open school" Monday morning.-He rather wished it was in order that he should boardi with the Dabneys, but, it was a time-honored custom for the teacher to boardi with a certain family who lived quite near to the schoolhouse, and! Stephen, felt that in some respects it was just as well for him not to be domiciled. with old man Dabney. He did' not know whether Mary would attend school or not. He had' hopc-dl for some expression from her on the subject, bnt had been disappointed; and Mondlay, morning, as pupils of. all sizes and ages arrived', and; she wasi not among them, he felt another disappointment. He would have been somewhat consoled l had he known the conditions that had operated' against her so arriving. They were somewhat in this order : About the middle of the year before Mary had "stoppedSsehool,'' because she had- arrived 1 , at the istage' pf arithmetic and grammar where the-then acting expounder of learning got completely stumped over the complexities of Higher Mathematics as extant in the last hundred pages of the Grammar School Arithmetic. So Mary took her books home, and stayed there. . '

■ .Now, without any particular ..eagerness to acquire more "education than"incidental school life she did make up -her mindl that iiight at ; -',gupper that she would' attend:,',,the.: coming" term of school. She was divided.' ; between a desire to do this andl a hesitancy to let "Professor" Benson find out how little she knew; but the very earnest expression of his gray eyes had! a wonderful. way of stirring her ambition). for further culture. She turned and toseed.half the night over the problem, andl then decided' that she wouldi 6tiidy\ so hard; that she would make a phenomenal showing of intellect if she didl not have much to show for it, andi that the game would be worth the candle. Hilda Hoggins was going, and Hilda was ais; old as-Mary. At the thought of HildVs blackberry eyes and glossy raven braide and their possible influence, Mary sat up in bed with a start. That determined her. . ~" • Next: Mary was hot accustomed to more than mention her purposes to her parents. Her reasons therefor she considered! superfluous to them. Moreover, •Mary was deep. Old Hiram was, locally, at least, proverbially deep, and Mary was like her father in this as in other respects. Monday morning, with her books done up in a. strap, and'wearing her hew plaid gingham dress which she had selected after trying on her entire wardrobe exclusive of her party dresses and' her pne silk for church, Mary descended to breakfast. She ostentatiously placed her hat and) books on the corner of the table.

"Well, by Jimmy Pills!" exclaimed her father, genuinely surprised:, "where air you off to?" "To school, of course," responded' Mary, with an inflection that was intended to dicate that that settled! the matter.

'•Gpin' to school." repeated her father. "Ye ain't- goin' to do ho sich uv er he assertedl positively, "Ye shan't go to no school teachedl by no diurh little man. teacher." "Why," asked .Mary,'; calmly, . helping herself to eggsi andl toast. Hiram rantedi-andsWore, and! he made the fetal mistake , tmttihg her_ with what, in his heart he did; not, could not, really- conceive to be true—tbit. she admiredi "thet lantern-jaWed'.inara teacher."

* This accusation; ignited such a fire, of real indignatioh:that.Miss! Mary, for one of the few times in her life, ; broke into" a storm of tearsi as she left the. ropm." She rah uratairs atid. slammed the door with a baiig that shook the house, -and locked herself in. ]■'-..-■■■...: ■;.'. '-.... -.. ■■".-■•.. -,.

At noon she would not respond! to lier motlier's call for dinner. By the middle_ of the afternoon, not being able to get any response from her, nor hear a, bound, Mis Hiram sought her husband and' told him in a loice quavering- with tears howuneasy she was, and tlien. burst into crying- * The upshot of the matter was, of course, that Hiram brought aTOundl Mary' 6 pony Tuesday morninir for her to ride to school. Stephen looked! up from his register just in time to see her as she cantered into the eclwolyard. His heart gave a quick bound with the shock of pleasure" that Sent the blood flying to liis face. He was glad he had seen, her before he greeted l her; but his cheeks -were .still ..flushed, and' there was a corresponding- height of color in Mary's face as she feaad "Goodl-moming,'' i very primly. With less,pretence,-Stephen came up arid shook hands with .her and said he was glad to see her and' assigned her a. desk.

That -was the beginning'. 61 the weeks hat followed, nob orie ray of buspieion tawned on Hiram. He brought the black xmy arorandi five mornings in the week vith the I 'regularity of clockwork That Mary studied .till past midnight <\ery night rather room, her fathei was lapbily unawarer, That- she was engaged o be married! to Stephen Benson, her ather was likewise happily- unaware It lad come about upon the occasion of Stephen's first visit to the family, One noitth after scliooli had besjufc. During that month both Siephen and ilary had iallem. bead over heels in lo\e t tlirobbed lit -the very anr around them. t vibrated 1111 trills aiid waves with every 00k and speech With, lier .head befit denurely over Tier books, ilary would'know precisely every look aShd gesture of Stephen's. Siephen, enthusiastically poimiling thc-rule of three-, to a. r class of stupid jotuigalers} though lookmg-.iri,t]ie directly opposite way from'her, knewjjreciselyjthe altitude ,1m wnich Mary Sir that moment sat., Though", when he dismissed! school, he said "Good afternoon." to'het

with the. eame formality that lie used with every pupif, young audi old alike, as, she < passed, out, it -seemed to' Stephen" that a part of fiis spirit went with ,her. Her 'personality so dominated<hun that he would, almost speak aloud to her after she had foen gone for hours -The long, wait from Fradlay afternoon till Monday morning- was a vista of lead-colored hours, imade endurable only by Stephen's vivid fancies of Mary. He mustjurve been tactful and cle\er in the discharge of both, his'professional and, social duties. The Huggins boys, those two desperadoes, ithat had -called liim into the district, either intimidated or hypno tised, behaved themselves m an almost ob [iterative manned. So Tumblings of dissatisfaction were heard' fiom any quarter. Nobody accused hnm of bein "partial" to anybody's big sister or little brother. He seemed not to have called attention to his methods, habits, -clothes, or appetites He never betrayed a. preference for visiting the Dabney and made it almost the last house om theJist of district calls "Noaw," said Hiram, after they had finished supper on that memorable Sunday | night, "we'll go inter th' pailei and hev'

a;little music."-': . ; : -./.. ',"-..,.-.;.' :. 31 aiy. played with a .swing and lightness thatjwas the; gilt ofthe,born music-lover, but, of the whplly.untiaught; aindl itiiis she knew, .but it had;never;troubled her before.. -.- "I don't want to play, pa," she objected, without affectation. -] "Oh, pshaw, ~now, Mary," , 'blustered: th'-way gals talk. Playj them jigs an.'things ye ail* everlastin' playin' fer. Ben Crocker, ev.'ry Sad'day night, when, he cums ef courtin.'." 1 ■-. There was a. mild and hairmless pride in Hiram's hint. He had no objection to letting "Professor" Benson understand 1 - that if Mary .did demean herself by going to school, she/had a. "steady" beau all.the same, and that lie was a "courtin'" beau, at- that! - ... And his words were.just as effective as ever he could' have wished. They swept over Stephen like a.prickly..needle blast. They likewise struck Mary with an entirely new force, for all of their accustomedness, and she darted a lightning glance at Stephen, to meet his wide-eyed, startled! look. Then she blushed so furi-ously-that it was mistaken, by .Stephen for guilt, amd he turned cold and clammy with apprehension). He had' l hardly questioned himself if she loved him. His own love was so great that he had imagined she must in some fashion know it, and on her part respond. And now Hiram's words. became a host of. little imps that flew, about inthe air, mocking and grinning and capering, and the more Mary blushed the colder grew Stephen. She had stumbled through two or, three airs, leaving each half finished, when Mrs Dabney's voice was heard in breathy/effort, calling Hiram to come out and help her let down the cellar trap-door. As Hiram tramped out, Mary lei her hands fall from, the piano keys. "I think that is enough," she said., with a nervous laugh. "Till Saturday night," . said Stephen, quickly, and then wished the words unspoken. * '"That's just pa's talk!" answered Mary, her race aflame again. "O'h, Many, I love you!" Stephen was actually affrighted when he heard the inopportune words; but they seemed to have tumbled out of his lips involuntarily. There was an .answering flush in Mary's face. "I am so gladl!" "Mary !" ~"Don't, Stephen! Sit still!" cried Mary, half-laughing, and wanting to cry, for very emotion. "Don't let anybody see—oh, Stephen !" Stephen had kissed' her in spite of the warning, and. for a. brief moment they ' clasped bands in. a. perfect -ecstasy of love. Then Mary made .bin. sit. d<own, and protested that he must not betray them, and when. Hiram returned in the course of another minute or so the "jigsl and things" that.were racing madly; up and down the piano keys filled -him with inordinate pride in his child's accomplishments. As the weeks passed along, it seamed to Stephen that he could not keep up the constant dissimulation. He wanted to cast prudence .to the winds, and tell Hiram and all the. world that he loved Mary, but Mary's remonstrances were almost- frantic at this, and it.took all her powers of persuasionto restrain this Tecldess imprudence in those brief snatches of communion that love finds a time and way for. Meanwhile, Ben Croker. "set up" to Mary in a way.Jhat afforded, her father infinite satisfaction; . and he looked forward to Ben's "speakirf to him" as a near-at-hand, pleasing certainty. And, in the. course of events, this,-indeed, came to pass. He was' hanging meditatively over the pig pen. fence,. when Ben approached with a hangdog air that instantly revealed his mission to Hiram. "Say,.Mr Dabney, I guess, you know how. it is about me and Mary," he ventured at last, kicking bashfully, at- a fence-post. "Wal," responded: Hiram, "I ain't be'n, stop-n.' ye, hev' I?" "Thank'y, thank'y," responded Ben, blushing with gratitude and: embarrassment "But, Mary, now—well, now, she says she don't care narthin' 'bout me, "egz'ept," . he added with great bitterness, "ez a frien'," '"A dum' fiddlesticks!" exploded Hiram, wiathfiilly,';."thet's pure,gal contrariness." "I thought, mebby,. Mr Dabney, ef you wuz ter say er good word for me, oncet in ei- while," suggested Ben, hopefully. . "Ben," said the old mail,, solemnly, "when ye say thet. it shows ye. don't, know a livin.' form' thing erbout .gal kerickter. Say er good word fer ye oncet; an' that would be th' last uv it, itillshe'd ferget th' word. No, sir-ree!, I'll pitch in anf blackguard! ye fer every thin',: high and' low. good, bad, an' indifferent. I'll swear ef I hear uv her meanin' ter marry ye. I'll lock her up on bread an'water !" ..' Ben. looked vastly .alarmed. - "Jfc-w, jest leave it in my hands,. Ben," adjured .Hiram, "an' reck'lect ifdon't make iio dif'rence how I seem ter act. Ye jest understand I'll fee dkrin.' 'it ter help, ye erlong." '■ -: Hiram,-, filled! with complacency and goodhumor with his, own,'sagacity, lost no .time ■ in taxing his daughter vvith'.'Mr Cracker's intent ions'. Mary ad'miKed-that. it was so ; vvhef euponi Hiram burst into such a. torrent of -wrathful' disparagement of that young mam's character.and'.cliarrhs that.it oausedi- his daughter no little:..astonishment. -"Why, pa ! I thought you liked Ben." - "LikedT'.-mockedi Hiram, sneering; Ye kill like 'er yalier dawg, I, giless, ef he's, useful to keep off iter tramps, ef..even i': eat up th' scraps. " Biitez fer ye. maTtyih,' Ben. Grockeiv I kin tell,ye,right liaow, Mary, -I airi't' gbin' fer'stand fer no such |iiv ei- thing!"; he snorted:..,. .:' ,_■.,' ;; :

'•lf you feel that way about it, pa, why don't you tell Ben nob to come, on the place ? I like him -and like him to like me, but you don't seem, to believe me when I say that I- am not going to marry him," she asserted. '"Oh, .gitout,'" jeered Hiram, "'twouldn't do fio good «f I did shoo him off th.' place. Ef vou wuz uv a mind' ter marry him, y'd make him elope with ye. No, I'd druther keep an eye on him." Uhis insidious suggestion about elopement was not without design, though he knew it was not .necessary for anybody to put "idees into Mary's head." What sorely puzzled him was why Mary did not want to-marry Ben. What did she have against him* And this was the trap that at last caught the conspirator, one *day after, a particularly dutiful xeply that she' did not. want -to mairy Ben Orocker, and for patience' sake to quit talking- about it ''Then why don't ye'" snoTted Hiram "Why not'" cried Miss Dabriey., opening her eyes jn. mock astonishment. "Why not, indeed ' "Haven't you been Setting forth reasons" enougli' Mercy, do I want to be locked in a cold, dark cellar all the ...1 „*

iest of my hfe* This was too much foi Hiram. "Yes, miss," he roared), "I 'should jest like to know why not He's ez line er fel ler ez ye kin. fhid tn States, i ail' I shrid like t' in tarnashnn you don't want tb marry him! ! ' * "I will not roarrsr <a. man who says 'I seen' and 1 haib/t,'" she said, scornfully, with,a iossf of her head.' '. A match, to sl powder keg could not have been. more, instantaneous, m process thin the insbirationi Which, at these words, burst "iipot-Hirain. * ~ ' thetWhVreaeon, is-it? He ain't suit ye*" » _ -~. And with that for_a start,, old Hifam worked) "himself into a perfect .frenzy,) threatened to shoot the teacher, and 'wound <

up by forbidding .her to go, to school another day. * It was a full minute after he- had exhausted this tirade before Mary spoke, and then it was in-a. tone so quiet that it ga\e her father a distinct shock. "■ j "Very •well, pa, since you are so opposed | to it.' But may I go and bring my> books home ?" , | ' Xaow, you •come right erlong " back, Mary" he admonished. I "Yes, pa," answered Mary | About noon she'came Tiding back, her books tied to the horn of hex saddle She ] lalighiEd and playfully tossed the bnd'c' into her father's hands j Then the early spring days began to melt > one into anothei; and no mention was made of school, and things gbdcd smooth-1 ly in the Dabney household Mary mail.- ] tamed an attitude of lively cheeifulness She received Ben Croekei's \isits with the same gush of high spirits Waltzes, jigs, and leels Taced diz/ily up and down the piano kejs on Saturday nights, and Mary's strong, Jaxk-like voice trilled high in the old fashioned ballads that she sang This stale of affairs had continued for a month when the Billmgses finished {heir

great-: : -new ;,'bam- .and sent. invitations throughout' the country for il "warttihi'-'.". , Three days, preceding: the dance, "Mary spent lm-a. whirl ..of- excitement. -She. con-, tributed so many spasniodlic squeezes to her father's heck that it-was like- to.have suf : fered dislocation. She raced oiit to the gate to talk to Ben Crocker, when she spied i him 'riding past, till Ben was ready to fall off his-horse with dizzy joy. "Ben, how niaiiy dances do you want mo to give you Friday .night?" she teased. Ben -got tongue-tied trying, to express himself in-response to such titillation, while Mary laughed in glee.. . .■ "liisten, Ben, I'll make a. bargain with you.•'.-I: will give you every dance'—round danees audi quadrilles—from eight o'clock to twelve, if you will do wliat I want you to then." ' For such a reward, Ben. would have promised to put his head on a chbpping-blpek and have it cut off. But-Mary would not say what it was she would want him to do, only; made him promise solemnly,, crossing his hea.rt three times, and calling fire, earth; air, audi water to witness the pledge. Country dances there 'began by eight o'clock and lasted' .till four in.. the morning. A little past seven the wagons began to arrive and among the first was the Dabneys'. Mary sprang out of the wagon almost into Ben's waiting arms, and, with a flashof- laughter over Tier shoulder at Her parents, went away with him—a vision of loveliness in her new white dress which she teased her mother into buying and making for the occasion. As they.disappeared, Hiram clawed his whiskers, delighted and hopeful: Mary took Ben aside to impart the promise to which he had so solemnly committed' himself. "Now, Ben, I am.going to give you every dance till supper-time." "Yes, yes," he assented, eagerly. "If you will do what I am going to ask you to do then." Ben gasped. "It is this. Y T ou must go away then. Slip off' without, letting any one else, see you and go straight home, and stay there, and come over to our place as early as you can in the morning." "But what for, Mary?" he stammered in his distress. Mary withdrew her hand, and her smile vanished, and Ben was engulfed in a great wave of desolation. "Of course I will," he made haste to assure her. "Ain't I already give my word ?" Mary smiled again. "Xow get it straight, Ben, and never mini the reason why. At twelve o'clock the folks will all start to the house for supper, and everybody will be all mixed up in the crowd," and" nobody will notice you leave. Then slip away, get your horse, and go straight- home. And be sure to come over as early as possible to-morrow morning." If carrying out his premise was hard when the time came, at least he lived in enchaiitment for the next four hours. Never was Paradise more illumined than that lantern-lit barn; for Ben. Heavenly music would never stir his blood like those swinging reels. Transitory seconds when Mary's .hand left his for a change in the set were the only moments when he realized that he was not living an immortalized existence of radiant bliss! At twelve o'clock, with a- final passionate clutch at her hand as they separated in the crowd, he rushed away and rode homeward, his head in a thick maze with just one thought to think, and- that was that he would see Mary the first thing the next morning. The dancers trooped to the house, where supper was ready, and the following hour was one of confusion and merry talk and daughter. It was a-full hour after supper, and 'the fiddles were tuning for the dancing to begin again, .before Mary's mother began to cast her eye after her daughter. "Sav, pa, have you seen anythin' of Mary-'" , ~ , Before Hiram ; had time to deride ner fears, Jennie Billings came up. ""Mary asked me to give you this when you got a-looking for her," handing Mrs Dabney a note. With shaking fingers Mrs Dabney opened the note and read : "Dear Ma and Pa, J have eloped. Pa once said I wbujd if I wanted' to." Mrs Dabney had no objection to her daughter's marrying, and thought she had chosen well; also, this bit of. romance ap r peakd to her, but it was quite natural, of course, that she should /go into an attack of hysterics at the news. Hiram experienced a sort of nonplussed gratification. It ~was beyoiid him why Mary should elect to elope, but since that was ■ her- way of doing it, far be it irom him to stop her.' '. . "Let's go home, Hi," whimpered Mrs Dabney, sopping at her eyes. "La, what for? Why not finish out the diance? We can't do notliin 'bout it liaow," said Hiram, piously. If ho could 1 have had A clairvoyant vision of his daughter at the particular -moment-,J it "would have been a sight to' see how fast he would have set about doing something. ' "'"■."• .■. i For. at that precise moment Mary and Stephen, in. o"livery-rig, were.curling over the brow of a. hill some five miles en route to the coiihty seat. Stephen had spent- the day iii town, and had) arranged with the minister, who .was an oldl friend ; ahd. onewhile teacher of his, to be.t&Kljt to receive them any -time from mid-night till dawn. As late as possible he 'bought .the license, and as night fell he drove put; and wait'ed.-iieiir;tli.B ; Bi-uWgMi*'- I^^.;f o f-'.^ i y.- .' Mary had .takerir the 'greate.^t, T ehjdyment hi/planning the .elbpement,;andi did hot" fesir. pursuit; unl«es-it-was: to persaudii" Her to return home..for a :proper.weddihg, for she knew- ;it would >be understood- by body, liha-t 'she had :ek>peaj with Beii,. 'At

the thought she laughed aloud and gave Stephen's arm an ecstatic hug. Stephen nervous and happy", made the. moment an occasion, to bestow another embrace. And here occurred one- of those trying episodes that prove the unieliability of kindly fates. It may ha\e been, that Stephen unconsciously "drew a tighter rein, than Usual or it may ha,\e been that the horse became suddwily conscientious about aiding and abetting such untoward proceedings and decided to btop of Ms own accord. Howbeit, he stopped stock still. For n moment his deflection was not noticed by the caressing lovers, and then Stephen observed what had occurred and clicked for him .to move en, but he would not move. Stephen urged him, but he remained standing. He" applied 1 the whip, but the horse did not budge. .Meanwhile, Mary Legan laughing hjs- ■ terically. "Steve, we will have, to walk *„to our -wedding! You caii't do anything.with a(. balky hoise. I am "afraid to sit here any|i longer.- Pa might take a notion Start 11 out and bung me home for a proper wed- I ding, and when he finds, that it ls.ybu I

am eloping with it would hot be so easy to do it again S? - " " - . Stephen's desperatibn increased. ;He made Mary get-out,-and ".gatheied some sticks-and, wrappe'd.. his pocket;handkerchief about .them,' lit .the bunch- and held it under, the horse's belly. /Xo-mar-tyr,, burned, at .stajce ever stood-with .the calm indifference;'df-this horse as the'hair Kinged and \^ , _-. , . t, ~"0h,," come "dear,"- tirgjsd Miry ' A ">Vhat<do«s:-:a-Jittle s 'sii ,ii|« amount ,io? lS Arid -if the pursuers come Tap' tKey ■will''thin£-we'.are sehtewh'ere ntea*.". , -"Very, well, I '.' ne-fytplied, f'iet'S walk!?'jiJVit h ,\a. final look *" 'at;' " f ihe Tooted," equine,-"ptcphen "and ■ out' cheerfully over the-Tbiigh-road -with

the "gay spirits of youth and health and { 10ve."," v ' ■ They arrived in due course at the minister's "hputfei where the family were waiting to receive" them, were married, and hospitably entertained. | l'he i next morning Hiram, looking out at.hiskitehen door, saw Ben Crocker rid- . ing furiously down the road. He [chuckled. • ' j "Look out, ma! I'm goin' tcr git my I gun. Yander cums thet da blasted son- ; in-law uv ouru!"

He went out'to the gate still chuckling, and Mrs Hnaorn followed along, hysterical twitches in her-"throat. It is not every night that one dissipates till four in the morning, and. in addition, has one's'only daughter elope. - ' Mornm.Vßen," Hiram hailed; genially, 'you gieat, blitherin' scamp! .Why didn't ye bring jei wife erlong?" 'Eh'" said Ben, foolishly. "What d'ye mean'" 'Mean' Mary, uv co'se. Tliet wuz a gieat tuck uv yourn an' hers." '.'Kill me. ef 1 know what ye're drivin' at," said Ben> earnestly. "I ain't seen, her sence we broke up for 6Upper last mght " "Then who by gum did Mary elope with'' At this Mrs Dabney buret into tears, and Ben looked as if he wanted to join her; but the excitement of the old man was such thai it gave them all something to do to keep him from flying- into pieces iihilo they gut him into his hat and coat and on a horse headed for the county seat.

Mary was watching arid spied her father in the long distance. She went out and peiched on the gate-post. If she felt either qualms or fears,, her roguish face did hot reveal them. ' Hello, pa," she greeted, blithely, "I been expecting you for an hour." Hiram diew.rein and looked solemnly at 111- daughter. "B\ gosh Mary, will ye be good enough to tfell me who it wuz ye eloped with last night'" Ceita.nK, pa," agreed Mary, amiably; 'it was Stephen Benson." 'lhere was along and deadly still pause. 'Wal, b\ gum," said Hiram, at last, "so- thet's who it wuz, wuz it?" Mary smiled. "Wal, it can't be helped naow," commented her father. "You will like Stephen, pa," contributed M.uy.

"Wal." said pa, philosophically, "I uuess 1 kin git used to him. You two lied better cum out in time fer dinner, an' we'll talk it over."