LP Fisher VOUMK V. ALBANY, OREGON, JANUARY 31, 1873. NO. 22. IAVK OLD FKIKXOS. Mr. David Dunham came into the village to hunt up hi kith and kin. He was Mr. David Dunham now, with a new suit on anil money ' in his pocket ; whereas the thriftless, barefoot youth who had tramped cut of" town bv this road eight years ago, whistling, and with his hands in his pockets, had been recognized a 1 through the -village a " I'ave," which cognomen expressed in brief his social position and advantages. Yet tiiose who had known the care free suubur ed lad might have dis. covered traces of him still in the frank gray eye and easy bearing of t! e wronger 7'Ii'h was Main street up which he was sauntering. It was border ed as of old by a liem of emerald grass, nibh ed close by an accasion al stray cow or wandering goat, it was sjieckled breezily with sun shine and shadow from the over arching trees which sheltered the comtortabkf well-to-do mansions. Dave, as I liave said, had disap peared down that respectable street years ago, with an old straw hat ou his head and whistling a s- atch of a song. He came Track, whist ling still, with a new hat, and a few gray hairs streaking the black locks b.'M'ath it and perhaps that was all the difference, lie thought so. How could he be so signally changed wheti -everything here was so like that he remembered ? Beyond this he recollected, was a trading street, a thrifty avenue, with shops little and big, where country wares, plows, brooms, queen's-ware, ilk dresses, and rib bons were sold from opposite coun ters, and trade was varied and brisk ; there was the old coffin shop, and the liecr-houH! with tlie over sowing glass Mt yet empty on the creaking sign before it. And after a spell of ljusincss tltc little street meandered otf in the direction of the seashore, and forgot its calling, wandering along the pebbly lieach in sight of far-off" sails and smoky distances. Down there under the cliffs the old scow used to swing in the shallows the old scow in which lie used to go paddling about witli Hannah Hannah who never shierked work, a id always helped him to bail out. He wanted to see her and "the girls," her .prudent elder sisters who were wont to anathematize her when she came home, barefoot and muddy, with her blue apron full of clams. David had seen many change, since he lived up in that old red farm-house with the old fanner and his wife, the torment of the girls and the comrade of Ham ah. He hiid wintered up in the pine-woods, far up in the solitudes of Maine, lloatii.g down with the men ou rafts when the spring freshets came, lie knew the sap and freedom of primitive 1 i and oi.ee he had been nearly wrecked on the rapids; but he always reii'emhcred the old wa t. r-Iogged craft and the little girl I n the check apron ulack-eved, pock-marked, and agile who had l.ldlcd about iu it with him. Did Mich g'rls ever grow to lie women ? he wondered. He tried to make a situation in his mind that suited Hannah, but she didn't suit the situation. Impossible to imagine the quaint, willful little thing settle down infill tlie ordinary avocations of women. He must wait wait till he got to the old tarm-h .use. j he tide was coming in, and there was a familiar smell of salt air a . I shel.tih a I about the place as he approached. iiul the old red house was shut up; no sin. ike issued from theehim i.ev, no sign of li e was visible in window or doorway. A lonely ash tree near the fence turned up its cha.igcling leaves mockingly as of j old ; a solitary bird, startled liy hit) footsteps, winged its way from the branches. " Thit docs look like change!" muttered Mr. David to himself, eyeing the weed-grown garden ling ering!)'. What spell could have fa' leu on the old busy lite that kept the place astir ? " Must . have moved," he con cluded, as he went down the hill to the road Iielow. At that moment the village school broke up, and out burst a oruueopia of youngsters, shout ing and tlvi' g along the road. "My lad," said Mr. David, catching at one of the hindmost as he scudded past, " can yn tell me where old Farmer Nichols has moved to ?'' The boy eyed the stranger with rustic shyness, wriggling himself from the detaiuuig hand. It tm vexatious to be stopped in that way. VUuess you liavn't been long in these parts," he said, giving his hat a knowing thrift ou one side. " No, not long. Where has the old man gone ?" " To the berrin-ground, I reckon," said the boy, viciously, unable to resist tlie jest. " Old Sexton Strains 'ill tell you where," he added, look ing back as lie sped after his com rades. Old Sexton Simms had been a village institution in David's young days. No change had overtaken him, it seemed. A thin and wrink led little man, bloodless as a last year s mosquito, he pondered the stranger's face with a wise and side wise glance, as though studying an illegible inscription. f Shouldn't 'a knowed you no more'n the dead " hi cried, when Mr. David mentioned his name; " though I did think, soon's ever I tot eyes on ye, you must be. some one or untlier. The old folk? Oh yes, the old folks? Oh yes, the old folks is gone, both on 'em ; died within six months of each other, over three year ago come next spring. 7'hc old place has been in limbo ever since." "And the girls?" " Married and settled leastways .lane and Betsey. Jane's done first-rate first-iatc. She's Squire Johnson's wife, up there iu the big house yonder. And Betsey, she always was a sharp one, I thought, but somehow or another her bus hand isn't a bit forehanded." " And Hannah ?" was on 1 )avid's lips, but au old customer came in and absorbed the sexton's attention. David concluded to make his way to Squire .lohnsoi 's. At the moment of coming to this conclusion a few big drops fell omi nously !rm a hot and thunderous skv. but the white house was just iu sight, and he maile a bee-line for it. I he shower increased toa flood, but there was no shelter midway, ai d he hurried on. At tlie gate of the mansion stood a gig, from which a stout lady at that moment descending dubiously, tucking up her raiment and prcpar. ing to make a run lor the nouse She eyort sharply the stranger stand ing theie under the dripping um brella. .Mr. David held open the gate " Jane !" he sail, stepping forward and offering the shelter of the um brella. " I've been eight years com hg, but have just arrived in time, you see.' 1 a !" said the lady, starting hack. She still retained the sharp, incisive voice he remembered, sur- vivii g over all these years,, though j me former .ihi was vanished ut-i terly. crowded out by a matronly j figure in flowing skirts. j i avid's brown, bearded 'ace bore - a Wish smile as he spoke, and ixr- haps that bellied h memory. She had to accept the umbrella, and coi se.juenlly the escort; but LIGHT fKHTSU, YAQUINA she hesitated at the doorway, look- trim, she had been sharp, a model ed dowu at David's boots, and woman, with a flavor of crab-apple wiped her on significantly as she about her ; she had grown slip-shod glanced at the blazii g Brussels that and vinegarish. A devoted mother ornamented her jai lor. was Mrs. Betsey Jones, as Jane had Mr. David repeated the process piously intimated, querulously sat patiently ; she could not help ask- isfied that she, at least, was doing ing him in. Jane was pious and duty, and looking out rainily on patronizing a well-to-do woman, the rest of the world, expecting to David had been a troublesome lad, ' share her burdens, to he sure ; but then one must let! "I never 'go anywhere, never!" some things pass. she said, "or I might liave known I ie staid till the shower was you were iu town. Dear, dear, to over, and the Squire came in a think how time goes! Jim"- turn plain litt-e man hi gold sipctaclcs ing to her e'dest, a barefoot, snn who said, cheerfully, when supper ( burned lad "I thought you were was announced, , to run errands for your aunt Han- Torae along in, do, Mr. Dun- iiah this afternoon. It's the only liam, and take a dish of tea." j thing to keep 'em out of the way," The only fault, Jane often de- she added, "and the least Hannah dared, that she hail to hud with Johnson was that lie vamH parti cular in choosing his company. " And where's. Miss Simmons he asked as he sipped his tea." " tione over to Dobson's, and 1 suppose got caught in the shower." After supper the two men smok - ed a pipe together and talked of crops, the weather, and business iu general. Jane was no fool, as she often observed. She gathered that David was part owner in a ship- yard, and had mult some tidy craft is mortally offended with her." himself. Another time she would' "Why ?" queried the listener, im not be so particular about the door patiently. mat. " Why. sba'a-wug shop down In the midst of the talk and iu the village." smoke Miss Simmons came floating "I guess I'll take a turn down iu, iua flutter of muslin and ribbons, and see her," said Mr. David, ab breathless, bright ami coquettish, ruptly, as Jim sped out of the door, " I just ran over between the drops," she said, shaking out her curls with jeweled fingers. Miss Simmons was a pretty girl from the city. Slie had wit, she l ad wealth, it was said, and was quite a belle. She played, she sang, she chattel! brightly. She smiled on Mr. David, and rattled off his favorite old tunes. It was new to him to have any one especially for him, sparkle and warble and plume themselves for him. M iss Simmons' clear voice and high-keyed notes, her tall and graceful figure, her noiseless, easy movement, charmed him. " A splendid girl !" he said to himself; " ami how smooth her skin is, whereas Hannah " Han nah was pock-marked. Hannah! He steadied his voice and said, " How is Hannah r" as if the whole party had lieen making allusion to her. Sister Jane colored up. " Don't talk to me about Hannah !" she said. And they didn't ta k. At that moment Miss Simmons btruck up a brilliant bravura on the piano, and when it died, like a shower of sky- rockets, Mr. David Dunham took j his leave. ! The next day ho hung about the i village, dropping in upon one or j another old acquaintance. Finally j he stumbled into the brimming I household where Betsey presided, i Betsey l ad sort ed in life, as the not want to buy any ribbons. He soxtou said settled like a building , couldn't decorate himself with mil on ill-made ground. She had been , linery ; but as he looked within OREGON. , can do." "Where is Hannah?" asked Mr. David at last. "La! don't yon know? Well, to be sure"! Why, Hannah was always 1 odd, yon know. Jane offered her a home, and I'm sure I had no er ! of work tor her ; but she's drcadfu. ly set, is Hannah, and she's" ! "Married ?" i "Bless you, no ! Tliere's no ; chance for Hannah now, since she refused Jasper Hendricks; and Jane followed by a troop of smaller fry "Here, you Tim and Joe, come back !" cried the mother. "Han nah's 'maziti' particular and techy, ami don't like to see so many on 'em round barefliot." However, the troop were oft", and if Hannah had errands for all those nimble feet, she must have been a busy woman. Jim, hitching up his trowsers and holding on to his sliced o"a hat, shot dowu the quiet street, and vanished at the comer where the old pump stood. "Jim!"ca led Mr. David, "hold on a bit, I'm coming, too. "Hurry up, then," said Jim. "I have lots to do, said aunt Hannah-" "Yon like your aunt Hannah, do yon, Jim?" "You may bet your life on that," answered Jim, scntentiously. "She's one of the regulars, she is I tell you !" ami Jim wound up his pleas ing information with a long, low whistle of indefinite applause. Keeping th'i boy in sight, Mr. David presently came iu front of a quiet, oozy little shop with a great tree before it. In the miniature pjtow-window hung a bright array of ribbons, over which the swaying leaves cast flickering shadows, a pot of gerraniuin with scarlet blossoms glittered against the snowy curtain within. A whohwome. well swent. cherry-looking place. David did the doorway and saw a quiet, sha ded sitting room jnst back of the shop, and a quiet little figure, in a pink dress and black silk apron, sewing busily, his heart gave a great leap. He wanted to kiss that little woman, who, all unconscious of be ing seen, threaded her needle and hummed a blithe song to herself A beautiful inner picture, as though he were looking through the depths of a camera at some chaste image, ideal, shining, out of his reach altogether. She seemed to him a lady in a dream, apart from the ways of common Kte. Yet ahe kept the little shop under the tree. I do not think Mr. David wonld have had courage to break the spell that seemed to separate him from his old friend, hail not Jim, burst ing in, announced his presence. A quiet little woman, David had said ; this did not seem a very qui escent personage, however, this flushed and tremulous somebody, like and yet not like the old Han nah, who came toward him with eloquent eyes and hands outstretch ed, crying, "Dave!" like a uote of. old pathetic music Ah, that was a welcome ! At the moment David thought it cheaply liought with eight years of ab sence. Hannah bustled about to get sup per; she set out her little round tea table ; she laid the snowy cloth ; she spread her little store of dain ties ; she poured ont a fragrant cap of tea, die hovered about him like a tl uttering bird, chirping joyonsly. "A snug little place, Hannah," said Mr. David at last, speaking out of his fullness of coiifeut ; "but your sisters feel sore about, it ; they don't like your living liere alone. The fact is, they think you have lower ed yourself, and all that. What put it into your head ?" "Au angel, perhaps," said Han nah, solemnly, wiping her glowing, tearful eyes, as she looked at him. "David, after father and mother died, ami I had fW- nwnY my soul caris them and trudging about with Botoey's babies, I grew weniy and sick ! at d there came to me an inexpressible desire to own myself. I felt a sort of miserable pity for myself, just as I would have felt for any other poor slave with slavery in prospect for life. I long ed to keep myself high and pure. I shuddered at the thought of my degradation as a dependent drudge in other people's households." "And did yon not want to mar ry?" David did not know what imp prompted the words which burned his lips as they dropped from them. He mended them praiseworthy by adding, "Jasper Hendricks, for in stance ?" But Hannah answered calmly : "No, David, that would not have helped me. So 1 took tlie dear lit tle shop and waited" "For what?" said David blumV Hannah blushed, stooping low over her teacup. "For customers," she said, as Jim came blundering in ou one of his innumerable "chores." That night Mr. David Dunham could not sleep. Hannah's face, her pleasant voice, her sunny little shop, haunted him. Such a woman would be like sunrise in a roan's life. But Hannah did not want to mar ry; Hannah hugged her independ ence ; or she was waiting waiting, as she had said for somebody. Some how Mr. David did not find his way to the little shop where Han nah dwelt iu maidenly serenity quite as soon as he had anticipated. He lingered about the village; he took Miss Simmons out for a drive now and then; and ono Sunday he resiiondcd to Mrs. Johnson's piou interest in him by taking a seat in her pew. Tt was a hot, sunny day, C0-Vn.VUEI) OS FIFTU 1'AOK.