3io 



RECREA TION. 



Ki Throw me off the farm, will you ? 

 Before you accomplish that, I will throw 

 you into the creek. This farm belongs 

 to neither you or father, but was left to 

 me, by mother. Idler ? Yes, I deserve 

 the reproach, but not from you. From 

 this day forward I will manage the farm 

 myself ; and when I am of age I shall 

 require a strict account of how my in- 

 come has been expended." 



" There, there ! Allen," he replied, 

 regaining his composure, while his pale 

 face flushed crimson ; " I was startled, 

 thinking you were one of the tramps 

 that have been infesting these parts 

 lately. Of course, I could not apply 

 such language to you, but as regards the 

 farm being yours, I believe that is a 

 question we had better not debate at 

 present. It is true mother willed it to 

 you, appointing father your guardian, 

 but that was before I came into the 

 world ; and, granting I have no claim on 

 it, you forget father has supported you 

 nearly 20 years without compensation. 

 The total value of your keep, at five 

 dollars a week would equal the value of 

 the farm." 



"You would make a fine lawyer," I 

 answered with a sneer ; too greatly 

 astonished to realize the full import of 

 what I heard. I could not trust myself 

 to say more, so I turned and left him. 



As I walked down the path, I repeated 

 over and over his cruel words. " I know 

 now," I exclaimed aloud, " why that ill- 

 mated pair have joined forces. They 

 mean to cheat me out of the farm, 

 which I have never properly valued. 

 Well, they can have it in welcome. To- 

 morrow I will leave the old homestead 

 and seek my fortune in the world." The 

 thought pleased me, and as I was just 

 crossing a small bridge, I sat on a 

 coping and mapped out my future. This 

 was more difficult than I had anticipated, 

 as it was a new experience to me to 

 plan beyond the present. So, after 

 building several castles and then knock- 

 ing them over, I rose to take a look at 

 the surrounding scene. I am an ardent 

 lover of nature, and never tire of look- 

 ing on the beautiful hills and mountains 

 that hemmed us in on every side. 



As I rose to my feet I saw a straw hat 

 laying on the bank below. I cast a 

 hurried glance around to see if its owner 

 was in the neighborhood, and saw a 

 young girl coming down the road. She 



was bareheaded and I surmised that she 

 must be in search of the hat. 



They say the cackle of a flock of 

 geese in Rome, changed the history of 

 the world. Be that as it may, that small 

 hat, lying there beside the road, changed 

 the whole tenor of my life, and sent me 

 an outcast among savage tribes. 



As I gazed on the hat and the ad- 

 vancing figure, my innate love of mis- 

 chief seized me. I sprang forward and 

 with a kick, sent the feathery bit of 

 finery down the high bank into the 

 bushes. I then secreted myself behind 

 the trunk of a tree to enjoy the girl's 

 consternation when she should discover 

 that her hat was gone. My triumph, 

 however, was short lived, for, as the 

 owner appeared on the bridge, I became 

 lost in admiration. I saw at once she 

 was a stranger in these parts. 



She was a slender, delicate girl of 18, 

 with large, clear brown eyes, wavy 

 chestnut hair, a small refined mouth 

 that expanded into the sweetest smile. 

 She wore a tight fitting steel gray dress, 

 with deep white collar and cuffs, which 

 were bodered with a broad band of black, 

 A tiny handkerchief pinned to her belt 

 at the side, also edged with black, com- 

 pleted the prettiest picture I had ever 

 seen. 



I could not resist comparing the dainty 

 creature with the dull heavy Dutch 

 girls of the region. I would have given 

 the world to be able to undo my mis- 

 chief, or even to recover and restore the 

 hat to its fair owner ; but, strange as it 

 may seem, for the first time in my life, I 

 was shy. I trembled, lest she should 

 discover me behind the tree, and I know 

 I should have sunk in shame if she had 

 turned those brown orbs on my guilty 

 face. 



She stood on the bridge, looking at 

 the spot where she had left her hat, with 

 a puzzled expression on her face. 



" Surely," I heard her say, " I left my 

 bonnet on the bank where I rested, 

 watching the running stream. What 

 could have become of it ? It was here 

 not ten minutes ago. Probably the wind 

 has blown it into the river." 



She gazed at the water. She uttered 

 an exclamation of delight, and hurried 

 to the edge of the bank, down which she 

 gazed ruefully. I was about to step from 

 behind the tree and offer to retrieve the 

 hat, when she looked around to see if 



