A FOND FAREWELL.

Pelorus Guardian and Miners' Advocate., Volume 22, Issue 29, 14 April 1911, Page 5

A FOND FAREWELL.

She stood six-foet-two in her stockings, her weight ran into dozens of stones, and she, was just twentyone years old.

‘‘lt ain’t everyone I'd trust my little girl to,” said her old farmerfather, with tears in his eyes, as he stood before the sweet young elephant and the man who wished to make her wife. She laid the jaw of her blushing, face upon her dear dad’s quivering shoulder. ‘“You must take good care of my wee hirdling, Jack,” continued the old man, In broken tones. ‘‘Remember that she’s been raised kind o’ tender-like. Two acres a day’s all I ever asked her to plough, and an acre a day o’ corn is all she’s used to booing. She kin do light work—sich as makin’ fences an’ digging ditches—hut she ain’t used to rog’lar farm work, an’ you mustn’t ask too much of her. It’s hard for her old dad to giro up his little sunshine, Jack ; he’ll have to chop his own fire'. •;••);] now, an’ dig up his own ’raters, tint go, birdie, go, an’ may you find a happy nest !”