The Black Creek Stopping-House, and Other Stories

ipened into the golden tinge of autumn as over the

t settler had been in only for three years; but it seemed as if every g

the wind ran waves of shadow all day long, and the pride of the

travellers were moving about and must be fed. But while she scraped the new potatoes with lightning speed, or shelled the green peas, al

Hills shimmered in a pale gray mirage. Over the trees which sheltered the Stopping-House a flock of black crows circled in the blue air, croaking and complaining that the harvest was going to be late. On the wire-fenc

ot seen since the winter before, and while she worked she discussed neighborhood matters with t

machine men journeying through the country to sell machinery to harvest the grain not yet

ances from the room as she replenished the table merely serving as punc

e kitchen, and therefore absent in the dining-room, she merely elevated

her the purtiest little trick you ever saw-diamond rings on her,

apot. "But the old man, beyant, ain't been pleased with her since she married this Fred chap-he wouldn't ever look at Fred, nor let him come to the house, and so she ran away with him, and no one could blame her either

reek; "because if he is I don't blame the old man for being mad about it

was putting a new bandage on Jimmy MacCaulay's fing

a half-brother, and a lot younger. He's a different sort altogether from them two murderin' villains that sits in the house all day playin' cards. He's a good, sma

orbett, bringing in another platter of bacon and e

d Maggie Corbett joined a

ns with a little wisp of an apron on, all lace and ribbons, and big diamonds on her fingers, you'd be sorry for her, and you'd say, 'What kind of an old tyrant is the old man down beyant, and why don't he take her and Fred back?' It's not wrastlin' rou

ere was one man at her table who appar

n and compelling black eyes, he would be noticeable in any company. He was dressed in t

ddenly changed the conversation, and during the remainder of th

in to have his afternoon rest on the lounge in the

I noticed the look on that ugly mug of his, and mind you, Da, there's people that call him good-lookin' with that heavy jowl of his and the hair on him growin' the wrong way on his head, and them black eyes of his the color of the dirt in the road. They do say he's just got a bunch of mone

d, soothingly. "He can't pick her up an

"Mind you, Da, there ain't many that can put the

with interest and wa

, 'I'll be obliged to you, Mr. Belmont, to put them by,' and I looked at him, stiff as pork. 'Why, certainly, Mrs. Corbett,' says he, smilin' at me as if I had said somethin' pleasant. I felt a little bit ashamed, and went on to sort of explain about bein' brought up in the Army and all that, and he talked so nice about the Army that you would have thought it was old Major Morris come back again from the dead, and pr

at Maggie thought he was thinking. He was wondering what