fast is ready."

Such a sweet little milkmaid she was! none ever praised in song or story could be fresher, brighter, love- | lier. A mass of wavy brown hair was coiled at the back of her shapely head, in the demure fashion of her society; but the hazel eyes, the piquant nose, and the beautiful mouth told of a nature prone to merriment, yet full of tenderness as well.

She was dressed in the Friendly garb of gray, with kerchief and apron of snowy whiteness, and like an embodiment of the morning's early purity, she passed over the dewy path to the great barn where she superintended and assisted in the milking.

Primrose Farm was a model one; its rich acres and broad pastures were brought to the highest perfection, and its herd of Holstein-Friesians the finest in the county. "Primrose butter" brought fabulous prices, and it needed but one look at the perfect dairy to explain why. Exquisite neatness prevailed in every nook and cranny of this prosperous homestead; it gave one a sense of increased personal dignity even to visit the place; and truly Farmer Isaac and his wife exemplified that "cleanliness is akin to godliness."

Mr. and Mrs. Loder were stanch Friends, and, unlike their neighbors, had brought up their child in strict observance of their faith; but she was now the only maiden in the community who wore the "plain dress." Rebecca was so late that the other milkers had finished and gone ere she began her task, and left alone, she broke, unconsciously, into song-a - a worldliness her father would have reproved.

Suddenly, there was a noise overhead, as of some one moving in the loft, and surprised, the girl looked up. In an instant she sprang to her feet in terror as the mass of hay slipped and fell, and with it the worst-looking man she had ever beheld.

He struck the floor, and lay motionless a few paces from her. Her heart beat frightfully, for at first she thought him only shamming, and all the horrible stories she had ever heard flashed through her brain; but she soon saw that he was really stunned, and flying to the door, she called for help. Two or three farm laborers were soon about her.

stupor.

"The internal injuries are worse than the arm. He is like to die."

But he did not, though for days he lay unconscious of what went on about him.

At the very first chance, Mother Hannah insisted upon having her charge made "clean and comfortable "; and great was her amaze, on gently sponging his face, to see the change that operation wrought.

Dennis, holding the bowl of water, became so convulsed with laughter that he spilled its contents, and was sharply reprimanded.

"Can't help it, missus. 'Pears loike ye was washin' 'im from way back."

It did. The old lady warmed to her task, for in all her life she had never had one which promised to pay such a good return on the expenditure. Again and again the bowl was emptied and the towels changed, ere she rested satisfied that all the grime and stain and false beard had been removed from her victim's flesh.

Satisfied at length that he was clean, and equally satisfied that he was burglar and murderer as well, Mrs. Loder took up, with fear and trembling, the duties of head nurse. "then

"Thee must cure him first," said her husband, thee may try to save him."

Still, he lifted the sufferer kindly enough, and pushed back the matted hair from the temples; the face, ghastly under its disfigurements, seemed the face of the dead. Father Isaac had heard the outcry, and joined the group about the prostrate tramp.

"Well, if he entered this place to do evil, the Lord hath punished him. Take hold, lads, and bear him into the house."

Rebecca was there before them, and had prepared her mother, who bade her, "Open the windows in the east room, child, while I get wine and bandages."

So they bore him in, and laid him on the snowy bed, and the good souls, being of that rare class who live their religion, cared for him as if he had been their own. “Does thee want anything more, doctor ?"

dreams.

A man entered the apartment and seated himself in the great rocker near the bed. Allard knew, instinctively, that it was his humane host. He spoke, and the other came instantly to him, an honest gratification in his kindly face.

"I am heartily glad to hear thy voice sound so strong. Thee has had a long illness."

"What was the matter with my head ?—a broken arm should not affect that."

"Thee struck a beam in thy fall, and has had brain trouble. Thee will be all right now, with prudence." "And all this time I have been a burden on your household ?"

"It is never a burden to care for the suffering." Then, in spite of all contrary advice, Tom insisted upon

telling his story, to which the Quaker listened with grave courtesy, yet painfully evident unbelief.

The next day Allard pleaded so earnestly that his kind nurse allowed him to be dressed and lie upon the lounge. There, Rebecca served him with his dinner, and he rejoiced to see that the face which seemed so coldly spiritual in the waning sunset was alive with healthful human color in the clearer light of noon.

"Can I still further tax your exceeding kindness, dear Miss Loder? Will you write a letter for me?" He pointed significantly to his right arm. "Certainly, with pleasure.”

So, at his dictation, the girl wrote the "chief," who had all this time been in utter ignorance as to the whereabouts of his subordinate, and added a word or two for John Snyder.

Tom's thanks were more effusive than the occasion seemed to require.

The letter was posted, and a reply came quickly in the person of the anxious "chum."

"Well, old fellow, this is realistic!"

The eyes of both men were eloquent, and hands were warmly clasped, yet they said no more in words.

There followed a speedy convalescence, and in the heart of this man of the world a love sprang up almost as sudden for the innocent Quaker lass who had befriended him; and, ere he knew it, the passion filled his whole being, to the exclusion of every other thought.

On the eve of his departure from the home of his benefactors, he sought Farmer Isaac in his private room, and when he tried in vain to express his gratitude as he would have done, he added:

"But one thing yet remains: To all your generosity, I beg you to add one favor more! Give me the privilege to woo, and, if I may, to win, your daughter !"

Astounded by this request, old Isaac put on his glasses the better to survey this modest young man. Here was audacity! Here was nineteenth-century progress! Then he rose up in his wrath.

"Young ingrate! Is this thy way of returning evil for good. In a single breath thee thanks me, and tries to rob me!"

"To love is not to rob."

"And where are thy credentials? Dressed in filthy rags thee prowls into my building—with what intent I know not-and there the hand of the Lord prevents thee from thy sin. Does thee think I hold my little lass so light of worth as to toss her to the like of thee !"

"No, no. Indeed, sir, I can see you cannot help your judgment of me. Appearances are all against me. But is not the word of my friends something to prove I am not the tramp I personated ?"

"Humph! I care naught for thee or thy friends! A parcel of penny-a-liners, fabricating falsehoods and selling them to buy the bread they eat! Nay, nay! Thee is welcome to the care thee has had. It was not given for thee, but for the Master, and in His name I forbid thee further speech on this matter to me or mine."

Then he strode out of the room, and Tom followed, sore at his defeat, and came into the moonlight to find Rebecca pacing placidly up and down the long veranda. "What has so disturbed thee ?" she queried, in her sympathetic way.

Then out burst a torrent of passion that startled and thrilled the listener's soul.

To the romantic girl, their guest had long since ceased to be "the tramp," and had become the personification of all that was cultured and beautiful in manhood.

And now, when all this tide of love and indignation

was poured out to her, she found an answering something in herself. It was "the old, old story," too sweet to know or yield to any law save of its own being; and when demure little Rebecca laid down her head that night, it was of a lover's kiss she dreamed, and not her father's wrath.

John Snyder had come out to Primrose Farm for the night, and to bear his "chum "company back to town and waiting friends. To him, in the privacy of their upper room, Tom divulged his happy secret. So jubilant was he in his darling's love, that her father's opposition counted as naught.

"He'll come round-he'll have to. And if he don't, very soon my little girl will be of age." "Bah! runaways-old joke-won't sell. But you would never steal a woman for a wife ?" "Confound it! I'm going to marry Rebecca Loder the very first day she'll have me. I'll try fair means first, but

"Oh, shut up, and go to bed. If I ever fall in love, I won't give my friends more than a column of rhapsodies at a time."

For about five minutes Tom gazed at the indifferent one in pity, then did as advised; and-alas! for sentiment!-in another five was snoring.

Toward morning, Snyder roused him. "Get up quick. Don't make a noise."

"What's the row? Punching a fellow-" "Hush! There's something wrong in the house." "Its name is Snyder."

"Idiot! Burglars, I fear !"

There came a sound from the outer hall of some one moving stealthily across the floor.

"It may be some of the family."

"No-hark!"

Tom waited for no more, but got into his clothes in a jiffy, and through the door.

There was a hurried scuffle, a noise as of an earthquake falling down-stairs, a pistol-shot and silence. Farmer Isaac opened his bedroom-door upon a mixed lot of burglars, guests and plate, into which he threw himself with ardor, pummeling right and left, and lustily shouting for help. The whole household was soon on the spot, the men servants almost instantly, who obeyed with a will their master's orders to "tie up the whole gang." Terrified Mrs. Loder, clad in an unaccustomed "Mother Hubbard" gown of white, rushed to the front. "Father, father, stop! Thee is holding thy guests; these two be the ruffians."

Tom gave her a grateful smile, and Snyder hastened to explain.

"We heard these men in the hall and rushed out for them. In the struggle we all fell down the stairs."

"Hold thy ungodly tongue, and add no more lies! Jerry, bind his bands and feet as well as the others, an I thee, Dennis, ride hard for the constable."

It was Rebecca who sped out after Dennis as he rushe to obey orders, and cried to him:

"Bring the doctor as well! They have broken my darling's arm again!"

"Whew! be that the way the land lies!" wondered Dennis, then rode like death.

Only one pair of eyes had noted poor Allard, still s› weak from a long illness, sink down where the men h: ! bound him, too faint to care for aught but the horrible agony in his injured limb.

John Snyder had taken in the situation, and treated it as a huge joke, submitting with perfect equanimity to being tied like a sack.