WINNIE RICHARDSON, WAITING ON THE EASTERN BLUFFS OF OLD WABBAQUASSETT.
"Thanks, Jim, I'm glad you like it; do you know I have worked on it ever since you went away? I was so worried about you I had to work or ride old Dan, to keep from going wild. Several times I rode down to the Springs, followed the trail around the west bend way up to old Wabbaquassett, around to the eastern highlands from where I gazed across the pretty waves, hoping to see you coming, but saw only Nipmunk maidens sporting in their canoes."
"Then, if I had never come back, Winnie, I suppose you would have worked on that gown and ridden to Wabbaquassett Lake all the remainder of your life."
"I do not know. I know I wanted you to come home."
Jim was encouraged. This was more than she had ever said before, so he ventured to say, "Winnie, come here and give me your hand."
She came forward, and placing her hand in his, said, laughingly, "Well, Jim, what?"
"Now, Winnie, why were you worried for fear I would not come home and what did you want me to come back for?"
"Why, Jim, are you so simple as all that? You know that father expects you to break his colts in the spring, besides he thinks he cannot get along without your opinion on cabbages and turnips, then why would it not worry me? Now, Jim, I'm going home, and I want you to limp over tomorrow and see me, and stay all day, and we will have a good visit. But, really, Jim, you must not talk serious to me; you must give up that." Both were silent a moment and then she continued: "There, James Hall, has that little lecture almost killed you? I see you have the dumps. That will never do. Look up here, Mr. Hall, have you forgotten that Miss Richardson is present?"