Rensselaer Standard, Volume 1, Number 10, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 23 August 1879 — THE HIKED GIRL. [ARTICLE]

THE HIRED GIRL.

White and glistening like a mammoth bridal veil, the December sun lay over all the New Hampshire hills; dark and delicate, like the tracery of lace work, the leafless woods held up their boughs against the dazzling winter sky— and Rev. Peter Palmleaf, studying over the embryo sermon in his own special sanctum, glanced up where a black-bird was whistling in the casement, and thought to himself what a lovely world the Lord had made. When, all of a sudden, a shrill voice called through the entry: “Peter, the horse is ready.” “What horse?” asked Mr. Palmleaf. “Our horse, to be,sure,” said Miss Paulina, his sister. “ What for?” demanded the parson, staring through his near-sighted spectacles at the door. “To take you to Mr. Darrow’s.” “Why am I going to Mr. Darrow’s?” Well, I never!*' said Miss Paulina, bouncing into the study, with a yellow pocket handkerchief tied around her head, and her sleeves rolled, in a busi-ness-like fashion, up to her elbows. “Peter, you grow more mooney and absent-minded everyday of your life! Have you forgotten our discussion at the breakfast table? Why, you were going to Mr. Darrow’s after a girl, to be sure.”

“A —girl!” repeated the young minister, dreamily, rubbing his forehead. “Eh, I do recall something of the conversation. A hired girl.” “Yes.” nodded the tody, briskly, “she’s going to leave Mr. Darrow’s thm morning, because the family is so large and work so heavy. Site can’t flnalhat fault with our establishment, I guess. Ask her how much wages she wants, and how old she is, and ask her whether she has an"y followers—a follower is the one tiling I can't tolerate, tell her, aud he sure you bring her back, and her bundle. 1 must have a girl to help me beforeCousiu Phiiinda’s folks come back from tiie eity.” “But suppose she won’t i ome?” said the young miutoler, dubiously, fitting on the fingers of his gloves. “Then you must make her come,” said Miss Vaulina, hurriedly retreating to look after acertain kettle which was boiling over at the bock of tiie house. Ana thus charred with his mission. Rev. Peter I’almleaf got into the onehorse cutter and jingled merrily away. Dr. Darfow’s farm house nestled under a hill, in the protecting shadow of a cluster of evergreens, with a great fence in front of it, a red barn at the rear, and a perfect colony of covehouses at the sunny southern angle; and Mr. Darrow himself, a ruddyfaced elderly man, with a fringe of Ml bite whiskers around his chin, was shovelling awey the pearly masses of snow in front or the door. “Eb 4 said - Mr. Darrow, leaning on the handle of his spade, as the bells jingled up in front of the gate, and then stopped. “How! Why, it’s the minister! Good morning, Mr. Palmleaf—good morning. That there Sunday sermon of yours was a masterpiece. Me and 'Squire Sennex ” “Yes,” said Mr. Palmieaf, leisurely alighting and tying the horse to the post. “But I have called on business tida morning.” For Mr. Ifalmleaf was a man of oue idea, and for the time Being the “hired girl” had chased all the theology out of his head. “Ehr’ said Mr. Darrow, “busiptoS.” “I’ve come after a young woman.” said the minister.

Mr. Darrow dropped his spade in the middle of a snow-drift. ‘•Do you mean Dolly?*’ he said. “If that’s her name —yes,” answered the minister, solemnly. “You don’t mean that—its to be an engagement,” cried Mr. Darrow. “Well yes —that is, if we suit each other,” said Mr. Palm leaf, mildly. “Jerusalem!” said Mr. Darrow, who Had always heard that Mr. Palm leaf, like most men of genius, was an ••eccentric,” but had never realised it before. “Have you spoken to her?*’ “Certainly not!” answered Mr. Palm leaf. “Of course I shouldn’t think of such a thing without seeiug you first.” “Very straightforward of you, I’m sure,” said the former. “But of course, 1 can have no objection If Dolly herself is suited. Though—” and he smote one red-mitted band upon his knee —“now I come to thiuk of it, you've never seen Doily.” . “No!” said the minister. “But that need make no difference.” “Je-rusalem!” again cried the farmer. ' “It wasn’t the way I looked at tilings when I was young.” “Tastes differ,” said Mr. Palm leaf, a little Impatlept at the long discussion. “Can I see the young woman T’ “Oh, of course you can see her,” said Mr. Darrow. “She is in the dairy skimming milk. Dolly! Dolly!” raising his voice to a bellow, here’s the Rev. Mr. Palmleaf wants to see you! There’s the door, just to the left, sir.”

And, in his near-togMsd way.the minister stumbled into Former parrow’s dairy, where a r'wy eheekedglrl, with jet black hair, brushed away from a low, olive-dark brow, and eyeeiJHke pearls or sherry vine, was skimming the cream from multitudinous milk pans into a huge stone pot. “Y|ung woman,” said Mr. Palmieaf, turning his spectacles upon her amazed face, ■‘do von want to engage yourself.’*j “»r?” said Dolly, her spoon coming to an abrupt standstill, amid toe Winkled aud leather like folds of tbecrfam on a patieolar pan. “In other words,” explained Mr.* Palmieaf, “do you want a good h on*?’’ “Indeed, sir, I never thought of sinch a thing,” said Dolly in a flurry. | “How okl are you?” questioned Mr. Palmieaf. “I am eighteen,” said Dolly, in sepme confusion. “Havs you any followers?” “Sir?” saW Dolly. “Beaux, I mean,” elaborately tex-. plain the clergyman. “Of course I haven’t,” said Dolly, half inclined to beangiy. “Then I think you’ll suit me,” s*id Mr. Palmieaf; “or rather my sister. Our family Isn’t large; the washing is light, and Pauline is a most considerate mistress. Get your bundle.” “My—what?” said Dolly, in bewilderment. “Your clothes. I am to take vbu back with me immediately,” said Mr. Pvimleaf. “Pauline expects company. It Is essential that we have help|at once.” Dolly Darrow looked up with cheeks crimsoned like any rose, eyes fulUpf deep, brown sj arkles, and arou|d which danced a perfect galaxy dimples. “Wait a minute,” said she. “Certainly,” said M r - Palmieaf. f And he sat down on a wooden sU|ol a! tiie corner, and fell to meditating on Ihe “thirdly” of his uncompleted sqrmon, while DoUy sped up the stai|*, three at a time. “Father,” cried she, flying into tie firesence of her parents, “the mintohr ias mistaken me for Bridget” “Eh?” said Mr. Darrow. “You don’t tell?” said Mrs. Darrow. “And he wants to hire me,” said Dolly, with eyes gleaming with sup. “And I’m going! Quick —where's u|y hat, and my shawl, and mufflers?” g Mrs. Darrow rose up and in all tne majesty of black silk gown aud goff watch chain — sj “Dorothy Darrow,” said she, “you’le never going to hire out as a servant#’ “Yes, I am,” said Dolly. “It’s better than private theatricals. He’s t#> aud absent-minded, and Miss Pauline is a jewel! Oh, do make haste, or he’# be tired ol waiting.” And Dolly succeeded in carrying he| point. Fifteen minutes later she go| into the sleigh with a big bunalej) which Mr. Palmieaf stowed snugly un§ der the seat, and the minister drove j home with secret exultation. Miss Pauline was in the kitchen; fry! iug sausage for dinner, when Dorothy Darrow walked iu, with cheeks of carl nation hair down over her face, ancf the bundle uniter her arm. “Hear F ani Miss Palmieaf,” she said. “The hired help at your ser| vice.” Miss Palmieaf started. “Why, it’s Dorothy,” said she; “anif I sent Peter after Bridget.” “Yes, I know,” said Dolly, brightly! “But Bridget was gone, aud he niisf to<>k me for her, and he has engaged ine to work here. And, oh Miss Pau}ina, don’t undeceive him, because «I am a smart little housekeeper, aud Jl can help you just as much as any gifl could. Just give me atrial, that’s allj’ Miss Paulina had a shrewd appreciation of a joke; her hard features relu|e<l with a smile, sis she stood lookup down at the radient little brunette. §

“Weil,” Haul »he, “I doy’t mind ifil do.” For one month Dorothy • Darn* / officiated os hired girl atlheparsonag . Then she caiue to the clergymen otie , day: “Mr. Palmleaf.'’ said she, “I’m going to leave the place.” Mr. Palmleaf looked up In amazement and dismay. “I hope, Dolly,” said he, “neither J nor my sister have unwittingly offended you?” “No,said Dolly, patting her little foot on the staring green leaves in th| sturdy carjtet; “but, oh Mr. Palmleaf I have done so wrong and I do earrf estly beg your pardon.” I » “Dolly !” cried out the Reverend Peter in surprise. i “Betause you are good and true,l sobbed the girl; “and I’m not a hired girl, and I only came for a joke, and | can’t'bear to think I’m de-deceiving you!” • And Dolly began to cry piteously bes himl the corner of her apron. “You came here for a joke, eh?” said the minister. “Y-yes,” confessed Dolly behind her ► apron. “Well, then,” said the minister,geu-j tly drawing her toward him, “suppose; you stay in earnest.” “Sir!” faltered Dollv. “My dear,” said klr. Palmleaf, “]| have got used to having you aroundi and I should miss you terribly if you! should leave us. Do you think I am| too old to think of a blooming young wife like you?” /■. “Not a bit!” cried Dolly, indignantly. ‘Old—yo!” ‘ “Do you like me a little bit?” “A great deal,” said Dolly, laughing and blushing. I “Then you will stay with me always?” And Dolly promised that she would. Everybody wondered how so bashful a man as Rev. Mr. Paimleaf ever mustered courage for a proposal; but nobody knew that the “engagement” befor a joke and turned out in sober earnest. •. - -