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Glasgow, Ellen Anderson Gholson, 1873-1945

"The Miller Of Old Church"

In the west Venus hung silver white over the
new moon, and below the star and the crescent a single pine tree stood
as clearly defined as if it were pasted on a grey background of sky.
Half a mile farther on, where his road narrowed abruptly, a voice
hallooed to him as he approached, and driving nearer he discerned dimly
a man's figure standing beside a horse that had gone lame.
"Halloo, there? Have you a light? My horse has got a stone or cast a
shoe, I can't make out which it is."
Reaching for the lantern under his seat, Abel alighted and after calling
"Whoa!" to his mare, walked a few steps forward to the stationary
horse and rider in the dusk ahead. As the light shone on the man and he
recognized Jonathan Gay, he hesitated an instant, as though uncertain
whether to advance or retreat.
"If I'd known 'twas you," he observed gruffly, "I shouldn't have been so
quick about getting down out of my gig."
"Thank you, all the same," replied Gay in his pleasant voice. "It
doesn't seem to be a stone, after all," he added. "I'm rather afraid he
got a sprain when he stumbled into a hole a yard or two back.


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