Wayside Courtships | Page 2

the man's soul swept across that sea of song with the heart of a lion and
the wings of an eagle.
A tender, musing smile was on the woman's lips.
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WAYSIDE COURTSHIPS
A PREACHER'S LOVE STORY.
I.
The train drew out of the great Van Buren Street depot at 4.30 of a dark
day in late October. A tall young man, with a timid look in his eyes,
was almost the last one to get on, and his pale face wore a worried look
as he dropped into an empty seat and peered out at the squalid
buildings reeling past in the mist.

The buildings grew smaller, and vacant lots appeared stretching away
in flat spaces, broken here and there by ridges of ugly squat little
tenement blocks. Over this landscape vast banners of smoke streamed,
magnified by the misty rain which was driven in from the lake.
At last there came a swell of land clothed on with trees. It was still light
enough to see they were burr oaks, and the young student's heart
thrilled at sight of them. His forehead smoothed out, and his eyes grew
tender with boyish memories.
He was seated thus, with head leaning against the pane, when another
young man came down the aisle from the smoking car and took a seat
beside him with a pleasant word.
He was a handsome young fellow of twenty-three or four. His face was
large and beardless, and he had beautiful teeth. He had a bold and keen
look, in spite of the bang of yellow hair which hung over his forehead.
Some commonplaces passed between them, and then silence fell on
each. The conductor coming through the car, the smooth-faced young
fellow put up a card to be punched, and the student handed up a ticket,
simply saying, "Kesota."
After a decent pause the younger man said "Going to Kesota, are you?"
"Yes."
"So am I. I live there, in fact."
"Do you? Then perhaps you can tell me the name of your County
Superintendent. I'm looking for a school." He smiled frankly. "I'm just
out of Jackson University, and----"
"That so? I'm an Ann Arbor man myself." They took a moment for
mutual warming up. "Yes, I know the Superintendent. Why not come
right up to my boarding place, and to-morrow I'll introduce you?
Looking for a school, eh? What kind of a school?"

"Oh, a village school, or even a country school. It's too late to get a
good place; but I've been sick, and----"
"Yes, the good positions are all snapped up; still, you might by accident
hit on something. I know Mott; he'll do all he can for you. By the way,
my name's Allen."
The young student understood this hint and spoke. "Mine is Stacey."
The younger man mused a few minutes, as if he had forgotten his new
acquaintance. Suddenly he roused up.
"Say, would you take a country school several miles out?"
"I think I would, if nothing better offered."
"Well, out in my neighborhood they're without a teacher. It's six miles
out, and it isn't a lovely neighborhood. However, they will pay fifty
dollars a month; that's ten dollars extra for the scrimmages. They
wanted me to teach this winter--my sister teaches it in summer--but,
great Peter! I can't waste my time teaching school, when I can run up to
Chicago and take a shy at the pit and make a whole term's wages in
thirty minutes."
"I don't understand," said Stacey.
"Wheat Exchange. I've got a lot of friends in the pit, and I can come in
any time on a little deal. I'm no Jim Keene, but I hope to get cash
enough to handle five thousand. I wanted the old gent to start me up in
it, but he said, 'Nix come arouse.' Fact is, I dropped the money he gave
me to go through college with." He smiled at Stacey's disapproving
look. "Yes, indeedy; there's where the jar came into our tender relations.
Oh, I call on the governor--always when I've got a wad. I have fun with
him." He smiled brightly. "Ask him if he don't need a little cash to pay
for hog-killin', or something like that." He laughed again. "No, I didn't
graduate at Ann Arbor. Funny how things go, ain't it? I was on my way
back the third year, when I stopped in to see the pit--it's one o' the
sights of Chicago, you know--and Billy Krans saw me looking over the

rail. I went in, won, and then took a flyer on December. Come a big
slump, and I failed to materialize at school."
"What did you do then?" asked Stacey, to whom this did not seem
humorous.
"I wrote a contrite letter to the governor, stating case,