10 
Both Sides 
of 
The Shield 
By Major 
ARCHIBALD W. BUTT, 
One of the Heroes of the 
Titanic and President 
Taft’s Military Aid. 
Copyright, 1905, by J. B. Lippincott 
company. All rights reserved. 
SYNOPSIS 
Palmer, a Boston newspaper man, is 
Bent to Georgia to report social and indus- 
trial conditions in a series of letters to his 
paper. Colgnel Turpin, a southerner, 
thinks Palmer is a lawyer and has come 
« foreclose the Turpin plantation’s mort- 
gage. 
Palmer undeceives him,:and the colonel, 
thinking that Palmer is a kinsman, in- 
vites him to be his guest at the Pines. 
Palmer meets Ellen and Bud Turpin and 
is hospitably received. 
He becomes interested in Ellen and 
learns that the Turpin home {is in grave 
peril through lack of funds. He wants to 
confess that he is not really a kinsman, 
but fails to do so. 
Squire Hawkins, an elderly man, is 
courting Ellen. <A party is planned in 
honor of Palmer, who writes his impres- 
sions of the place for hia naner. 
uaten wears an old brocade gown at the 
party, and Palmer falls in love with her. 
Ellen and her friends take him to the 
wishing stone. 
“You are my queen tonight,’ Palmer 
tells her, but she will not permit him to 
avow his love. He fears she intends mar- 
rying the squire to save the old home. 
| [CONTINUED. } 
{ 
CHAPTER V. 
The Wishing Stone. 
WE girls who had been invited 
to ‘spend the night at the 
Pines came early the next day, 
and I went to the fields with 
Bud, for Miss Ellen told me that I 
would only be in the way if I stayed 
at home. I saw Bud at his plow and 
watched how cheerfully he did the 
wosk of a dav laborer. I lit my pipe 
and walked several of the furrows 
with him, and then, heartsick at see- 
ing this fine specimen of young man- 
hood trudging wearily to and fro in 
the thankless soil, I wandered off in 
the woods to dream of Miss Hllen and 
weave schemes for the rest of the fam- 
fly when she would have become my 
wife. When? The question brought 
with it a flood of doubt, for, after all, 
would she give up the work she had 
undertaken, or would her pride allow 
her to accept any assistance for her 
eer 
NORTH SHORE BREEZE 
family? I felt there were depths to 
her nature which I had not been able 
to sound in the short time I had been 
there. 
For fear of wounding her I had re- 
mained silent, but I was now resolved 
to speak to her before leaving, and had 
I received orders that night to return 
to Boston I would have told her of my 
boundless love and asked her to be- 
come my wife. Still wavering between 
my inclination to declare my love and 
fear of being too precipitate, | returned 
to the Pines. I did not see her until 
jinner time, however, then only during 
a hasty meal, after which we assisted 
her to clear the table and place a 
umber of small ones on the side porch 
for the party. We laid the collation 
for the evening’s entertainment and 
then went to dress. 
It was with some misgivings that lI 
fonned my evening suit, but on com- 
ing downstairs I found the colonel ar- 
rayed in one of an anterior date and 
Bud transformed from the plow hand 
of the morning in the suit he had 
worn at the time of his graduation. A 
number of young girls had arrived be- 
fore Miss Hllen came down. and the 
men were assembled at the foot of the 
stairs as if waiting for her. 
My heart seemed to stop beating as 
I saw her lithe and graceful! figure, 
elad in an old brocade of her mother. 
eoming toward me. Her hair was built 
high on her head, which seemed to 
ehange her whole appearance and 
made me start as I remembered my 
dream picture. The brocade was fad- 
ed, but its gloss and richness remain- 
ed. Her shoulders were bare, and her 
tilted chin gave her the air of some 
quaint old medieval picture come to 
life. 
“Am I not 
Rouse?’ she 
gaze. 
“You are like a queen,” | said. 
“Then you shall pay me court for 
this one night,’ she answered and held 
out her hand to me, which | took, and, 
with the mf&nner of an old time south- 
ern gentleman, just as I had seen Colo- 
nel Turpin do, I bowed low and for a 
moment let. my lips linger on the tips 
of her fingers. 
“You have other courtiers,’ said one 
of several men who came forward to 
join as. 7 
She held out her hand, and as she 
did so she iooked at me for a second. 
She withdrew it gracefully and added, 
with a smile, “I was only admitting 
a new one. and then bade me fol- 
low her. She introduced me here and 
there and told me how many times 
I must dance with each. We went 
on the porch, and, standing there, l 
was again struck with the resem- 
blance to the lady in my dream. 
“You are like the first part of my 
picture,” I said softly. 
“Then let me play it for this even- 
ing.’ she said. “And if you can im- 
agine me a colonial dame you shall be 
in keeping with the 
said. interpreting my 
(5 RR RRR REAR TOCA A 
a courtier from King George's court.” 
“Good,”’ I cried, “if you will admit 
that I have come across the seas 
a-wooing!” 
“As you will, my lord,” spreading 
out her gown and courtesying. ‘“‘But 1 
will not be responsible for the conse- 
quences. So see to it that you play 
well your part, else I will send you to 
your king again.” 
After that I addressed her only as 
“most gracious lady” or “fair Mistress 
Bllen.” I wooed her in the strange 
and quaint language of a hundred 
years ago. Sometimes she seemed 
startled at my earnestness, and when 
thinking my speech too fervent she 
would bid me go hence and add an- 
other wallflower to my already large 
bouquet. I would straightway return 
and tell her of the court life and wove 
amid my imagery an odd mixture of 
my New England home. Once, taking 
her hand for a moment and looking 
fnto her eyes, I said: 
“Ah, Ellen, I love you well, and I 
would take you to a court in truth 
where you would find a royal welcome, 
and you would be a queen to every one 
who knew you, and I would so guard 
you that neither poverty nor sorrow 
should ever come near you or to those 
you love.” 
“T have naught to do with courts, my 
lord,” she said with a certain pathos, 
and I knew she was thinking of her 
duty at the Pines. “So go back to-your 
king, and, whether he be ambition or 
gold, or both, forget the simple colo- 
nial dame who more often plays the 
part of dairymaid. And now,” she 
said, looking into my eyes and laugh- 
ing, “go and seek out every maid over 
twenty-nine, and when you have led 
them all through the graceful minuet 
come back to me.” 
And I would do as bid and dance 
some old time waltz with some lonely 
maid and then return to Miss Ellen’s 
side only to be sent away again to 
some one who she noticed was not 
dancing. Finally the supper hour was 
announced, and I was made happy by 
Miss Ellen, who chose me as her part- 
ner for the march. Just as we were 
forming into line some one cried, “It 
is the hour for the wishing stone!’ 
and then one and all, save myself, for 
I did not know what was meant by 
the wishing stone, joined in the clamor. 
Miss Ellen yielded at length, and, still 
holding my hand and bidding me give 
the other to the girl behind me, and so 
on down the line, we started out of the 
house through one of the deep, low 
cut windows. We circled the porch, 
crossed the gardens and passed down 
the terrace. The moonlight filtering 
through the trees glimmered brightly 
on the colored frocks as we sped down 
the cedar lane. 
At length we emerged on an open 
knoll in the center of which was an 
old stone sundial covered with ivy. We 
formed a circle round it, and Miss HI- 
len, letting go my hand, stood on a step 
a 
