Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 5, Number 37, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 13 March 1875 — Page 2

2

THE MAIL

JK PAPER FOR THE PEOPLE.

NOW.

There is a good time coralng, boys 80 runs the hopefal song Such to the poetry of youth,

When life and hope are strong. But when these bouyant days are paused, Age ories, "How changed are men! Things were not so when I was young

The best of times was then." "There Is a good time coming, boys The truth we will allow But, waiting not for brighter days,

There Is a

good

time

now.

Why not Improve the present, tnen, Where'er the future lead And let each passing moments page

Bear proof of thought and deed 1 "There Is a good time coming, boys Ami many a one has passed For each has had his own good time,

And will hare to the last. Then do thy wt»rk, while lingors youth With freshness on Its brow, 8tlU mindful of life's greatest truth,

THK IJEST OF TIMKS IS NOW.

[Arthur's Magazine.)

Edith Burton.

BY SUSAN B. LONO.

That's her, papa! That's her, I sure!" I cried, excitedly, seizing the individual addressed by the hand, and hurrying him down the long platform in front of the Btation, towards a tall lady, who was standing beside a very unpretending bit respectable looking pile ol baggage. She was evidently expecting some one, but seemed perfectly composed, and not in the least anxious.

There! that one," I whispered, as we came nearer. "She's a perfect Edith Dombey, isn't she!"

Papa looked down upon me with a mischievous smilo—ho was always teasing ino about my heroines—but just at that moment a friend detained him, requesting a moment's conversation.

Well go on then, Emmy, and make the acquaintance of your heroine, and I will follow you directly," he said, pushing mo gently forward,while he stopped behind with his friend.

Before I had timo to realize that I was about to address a stranger, I was at the lady's side, and she turned upon me a pair of bright blue eyes—keen and searching, and full of a magnetic light which drew me unconsciously to her. "Not at all Edith Doinbey's eyes—cold, calm and proud," I said to myself. •k I tool sure that you are Miss Burton," I said, with a glance, «nd a slight gesture of my hand towards her trunk, upon which was her name, "and I am Emily Truman and papa and I have come to meet you, and tako you home with us."

Ah!" sho said, and tho keen, bright eyes smiled down at me, as she held out a slender gloved hand. Afier a moment'* scrutiny, alio added, still retaining my hand, "It is vory pleasant, when all is strange abovtt one, to bo met by such a friendly face. .Are you to bo 0110 ot my pupils

Yes, ma'am," I answered, and there are several other girls about my age so you will have plonty of Iriends very soon."

If they aro all as kind and good as I think you are," she replied, "1 am sure I shall have a pleasant school."

Pana cuino up .at this moment, and asked me if I had found the flady ol whom 1 was in search. "Of whom you were in search, you mean," I retorted, and thon turning to the lady I said: "This is my father, Miss Burton, lie is very much afraid of school ma'ams, and so ho sent mo to speak to you first."

They both laughed a little, as they exchanged greetings but papa blushed, and seemed so embarrassid, that I grew friuhUtned, thinking I had said something very improper indeed.

Wo wero soon on our way home, and papa was himself again, doing most ol the talking, while 1 studied my new friend for friends 1 felt we should bo, spite of the disparity in our ages and positions.

The circumstances which led to her coming among us were theso: Papa had written to an old and intimato friend in the city of in an adjoining state, begging his assistance in finding a com jxa. ut teacher for our school, lor the coming winter, lie took especial pains to impress upon him tho

fact

that the

position would bo an onerous one the school haviug, unfortuuately, gained the reputation of being the most ungovernable one in the county—a reputation fairly merited too, as ploHty of teachers both male and foinalo could tostifv.

Papa, on being elected a member of the Hoard of Trustees for the District had proposed that a lady, and one who should be a total stranger to the character of tke school, should be employed. II is proposition was agreed to, and he accordingly wroto to nls friend, who •recommended Edith Burton, and kindly offered to act for papa in securing her services.

A portion of papa's lot tor recurred to 1110 now, as I sat beside her in the carriage, taking not©of her eveiy look and motion. "l)o you know of a lady of pleasing address, a good deal of tact, •slow to anger,* but firm as a rock, some experience in teaching, etc., etc." As I recalled it, I wondered to myself whether the quiet.roserved.oxtremely lady-like young girl at mv siae possessed all those qualifications. 1 hoped so sincerely, for if she did not, well did I know tnere was no hope of her success in the position ahe was about to occupy.

That she was "of ploasing address," I was ready io declare and I was sure iMtpa thought so too, for I never knew hiin more animated and interesting in conversation. As to her looks, I could not dodde at one®, whether to pronounce her handsome or not:she was not beautiful, like Edith Domboy, certainly her nose was not perfect and her mouih was too large: but still, her fiiee was a very attractive one, owing chleliy to the faultless fairness of her complexion, and the wonderftilly magnetic eyes. Her hair, I had no hesitation in pronouncing the most beautiful I had ever seen light, or golden brown, and slightly wavy, very abundant, and long though this 1 did not observe critically until we had reached home and she baa removed her bat, when I discovered that all its glowiy abundance was natural to her head.

It was nearly dartc when we arrived at home, when* dear grandma gave the young stranger a amiling welcome, and then bade mo show her to her room where she could remove her wrappings, and make what alterations in her dress ahe wished, before tea.

Immediately upon reaching her room, ahe turned to mo and asked softly and earnest! v, "Ifa vie not you a mother ?M

I shook my bead, the tears springing to my eyes, as they still would, at the least allusion to thai tender friend, "She died two years ago," I answered.

I have been motherless, ten years," ahe replied, taking both my bands and holding them closely in hers, and there was unutterable sadness in her voice, "I well know what that means and now,"

she added after a pause, suddenly drop-i Ding my hands and going awiitly to a window, while the sadness in her voioe changed to agony,"now 1 am fathto

She stood gazing out into Ihe gathering dusk, and I oould see her slight form shake with the intensity of the emotion ahe was striving so bravely to conquer. I would have given worlds, then, it seemed to me, to be able to express the sympathy that filled my heart for the lonely stranger but could find no ntting words so I went and put my arm around her and leaned my head against her shoulder. She mastered her grief in a few moments, and then stooping over mo we kissed each other, without speaking but that kiss I felt to bo a compact of love and friendship between us which should last while time should last.

This was on Saturday evening, and she was to remain with us over Sunday and begin the school upon the following Monday. It was understood by myself and my brother Nel, that we wore to volunteer no information regarding the character of the school, and to avoid as much as possible any allusion to particular pupils, in case Miss Burton should ask any questions loading to the subject. Indeed, as Nel himsolf was fast becoming

one

of the most unruly membere in

the school, the last clause in our instructions was scarcely necessary. Tho evening passed very agreeably, papa and grandma doing most of the talking, Miss Burton seeming best pleased with the part of listener. I Bay the evening passed very agreeably, and it did, on the whole, I believe but r»el made me very angry several times, by communicating to me, in sundry ways, the very low estimate he plaoed upon the qualifications of tho new teacher. Indeed, his nods, winks, and grimaces, wero indulged in at every possible opportunity when they could

DO

without

attracting the attention of the others, regardless of my frowns, until I turned my back upon him and refused to notice him in any way.

Now, he would direct my attention to her slender fingers and wrist, comparing them with his own, so thick and brown, then, to her white delicate throat, pretending that he could span it with ono hand or, ho would ridicule the smallness of her waist and, finally, when she drow towards the fire and put out from oeneath her dress a slender, perfectly fitting walking boot, he took occasion, vervsoon, to make his own awkward. heavy boots as conspicuous as possible.

You must know that Nel was just at the ago (twelvo years) when bodily strength and endurance and qualities greatly to be desired, and the fact that he could "master" me, who was three years his senior, and 110 fairy in build, was quite as gratifying to him, as it was unpleasant to me.

The "first day of school" was always an exciting occasion for me but on the following Monday my excitement took the form of anxiety. I did so hope the new teacher weuld make the same favorable impression upon the school that sho had upon me. Somehow, I could not help regarding her as an unconscious victim and feeling as though papa, and in some sort of a way, myself, too, had been guilty of treachery in bringing her into a situation whore she was certain to encounter difficulties such as she seemed to ino so unfitted to meet. As for Nel, I was determined 1 hat sho should not bo troubled by him. Instead of shielding him, as I had heretofore most unwisely done, I should acquaint papa, with his very first disrespectful word or act towards her, and he should take the consequences, be they over so severe.

Nothing particularly unpleasant occurred (luring Monday, to my great relief. The large girls voted her "awful nice," and the boys admitted that she was a "stunner," and that was quite as much as I could reasonably expect of (hem.

Well," said papa, that evening, "how did your Edith Dombey succeed to-day

O, papa!" I replied, "I was wrong to compare her to Edith Dombey she

is

ever so much too good. She may seem a little like her at first—before you know her, you know—but now, I think is really more like Florence, geutlo and loving, and just as truo as steel. Oh I dosohopo those terriblo boys will behavo themselves this winter. Whatcan such a delicate, lady-like looking thiug as she, do with them if thoy don't? I saw Nel and Frod Williams, laughing and sneering about her slender hands and wrists to-day. Oh it soema almost cruel to have brought her here!,'

Tel) Nel and Fred Williams, not to count too much upon the weakness of those bands and wrists," said papa, "they may bo stronger than they look. Besides, if I cat} read her face correctly, she has a will to back them, and render them sufficient for tho occasion, I'll venture to guess."

Pana," I said, "you never told me what Mr. Selby said about her, when he recommended her, though I asked you at the time. I should like to know how old sho is, at least."

I never showed you tho letter because I thought it would bo an advantage, both to Miss Burton and the school tobe wholly unknown to each other. I think it will do no harm, now, to Impart "to vou some of the items of information which tho letter contained, as you seem so anxious about tho succcss of your friend, as von call her. She is twenty years old.

Has

taught for the last three

years in the public schools of -, and lor the last year and a half, in a gymnasium for ladies and children, in that city. Selby's words were: 'she baa the best trained nerves and muaeles in the city, and is as agile as a panther and nearly as strong. I think you will nna her equal to every emergency that will artee either in teaching or governing. Wd are sorry to part with tor, but a change of scene and air is absolutely necessary for her. If she is not appreciated among yon, we shall only be too glad to welcome her homo again, alter a reasonable time." "Oh!" 1 said, drawing along breath, "I feel so relieved about her, now."

The next day, ail passed on Tory smoothly until near the time for the afternoon recess, when an affair occurred which furnished food for ich excited conversation during that intermission.

Now," said Mlas Burton, In her

e"

easant, cheery, ringing voice, "let us ivo ten minutes of close study before recess. Let no one ask a question, or make the leant disturbance in any manner, until tlisy bear the bell."

Every one obeyed with seeming cheer­

fulness,

and for the space of five minutes

there wasalmostptnrfectrileneethroughout the room. Tt»«», all at ouoe, Nal aroae and said abnipUy, MtasBartonj may I go and speak to Jemmie Joyce "Certainly notT was the qu'ck reply, accompanied by a look of pained surprise. "Hitdown," she continued, seeing him hesitate, "and resume your study, and remain in your during recess."

I'd rather not, thank you !M said Nel and then thrusting his bands into bis pockets, he deliberately left his seat and swaggered along towards that of Jemmie Joyce, winking to one and another

of the boys as much as to say, "Let's see what she ll do about it." I was thunderstruck. I know he was' far from a good boy in school, but did not deem him capable tof conduct so openly insulting as this. I learned afterwards that the whole thing had been planned beforehand by the older boys and they had drawn lots to see who should carry it out, and the lot had fallen to him.

Miss Burton was standing by her desk, at one end of the room, with her watch in her hand. The dlstanoe between her and Jemmie Joyce's desk was farther than from Nel's to tho same point, but by tho timo he had passed ovor half the distance, sho had seized him by the collar of his coat behind, and dragging him backward laid him sprawling upon the floor, in tho clear spaco in the middle of the room. The action was so sudden and so entiroly unoxpected by him, that he had no time to offer any resistance, so that, although much surprised and greatly chagrined at the ludlcrousness of his situation, he still had no idea but what he should coino out best at last, lie burst into a forced laugh to cover his confusion, and (fathered himself up as quickly as possiblo—rather, he attempted to do so, and had nearly succeeded in gaining an upright position, when ho found himself seized by both arms, twitched suddenly forward, and then backward, and forced down upon his knees, and held there, firmly fixed to the floor, despite all his struggles to free himself or got upon his feet. The slender fingers closed upon his arms with the grasp of a viee, pinning them to his sides, and himself to the floor at the same time. There was a silent struggle for a few minutes, when Miss Burton spoke. There was a slight flush upon her cheeks, and her eyes were nearly black and shone like stars, but her voice was clear and calm, with no shade of faltering.

Be quiet, now, and listen to me, she said. "Den't struggle. It is perfectly useless. I have the advantage, and know my own strength and yours, too, better than you do—though this is the first time I have ever been forced to rely upon brute force te secure obedience in school. Promise me, at onee, that you will go quietly to your seat and remain there through the recess,and I will allow you to rise.'

Ho remained silent and sullen f®r a minute, and then said with forced bravado "What if I won't promise

We will not consider that side of the question," was the calm reply "you will promise, and that directly, and put an end to this disgraceful seen©."

Thoroughly convinced by this time that it was useless to contend with her, and heartily ashamed of his ridiculous position—for there wero titterings and whisperings at his expense in all parts of the room—but still hoping to leave the field with some show of victory, he at last said, loudly and saucily "Well, I promise, then! Will that do?"

When you say it respectfully, it will do, certainly," was the firm reply. He made another ineffectual struggle to release himself, and then, all at once, the "bully" gave way, and the better part ot. his nature—which was really his true nature—asserted itself.

I promise, Miss Burton," he said, looking her honestly and respectfully in the face: "and I ask pardon for disobeying you."

This was Nel's last act of insubordination that winteh Graeious!" said he to the boys, who were teasing him about his defeat the following morning '•just you' try it yourself, ifyou want to understand how it was. 'Twasn't so much her strength —though who'd 'a' thought such little fingers could grip so!—but, my gracious! her eyes just go right through a feller, and seem to take all the vim right out of him, and—and just make him feel like ft baby/'

Tho unsuccessful termination of this affair did not deter one or two other attempts of a like nature by different unruly spirits in the school, but in each caso tho treatment was equally prompt and effectual.

Sho never threatened, or lost her temper, but was always firm, decidod and ready to meet every difficulty before ii hardly had time to shape itself. At the same time, her kindness and gentle dignity was fastwinning the love and respect of the wholo school so that ero the first half of the term was passed, there was such a marked improvement in their manners, that tho remark was often made by.those interested enough to notice the change, that the school was fast "losing its reputation."

It was the custom with us, as with all country schools in that part of tho West, for tho teacher to "board around." I had conceived such an ardent attachment to "my heroine," as papa used often to call her, that I was not disposed to be satisfied with the meagre share of her company that custom allotted us: and so, with very little trouble, I caused the arrangement to bo made that sho should spend the Saturdays and Sundays of every week at our house. She was a finished elocutionist and, better still, played the organ and sang beautilully so"that it was raro enjoyment that marked the evenings of her weekly presence In our cosey sitting-room during that winter. Only Miss Burton read we taking the rote of pleased and gratified listeners. But when music was introduced, wo all participated—papa with his rich bass, Nel with his smooth, girlish alto, while Miss Burton and I united our voices in the soprano, either she or I presiding at the organ. Evon grandma's tremulous but musical tones were often heard when wo came to those grand, old time pieces—Coronation, Old Hundred, Balcrma, etc.

Hie time passed so agreeably, both in school and out, that the winter was nearly gono before we wero aware and Miss Burton quite startled us all, one Friday evening, by saying—ana I thought she said it regretfully—as sho laid down the book she had been reading, whilo I was arranging the music, etc., for what Nel called "next performance," that three weeks more would bring tho school to a close.

And that being the case," she went on, after a pause, looking up at pspa with a bright, confiding smile, "and it being the case, also, that I must keep a sharp look-out for the future, I should like to know soon whether I may expect to have the school fbr the coming summer." She paused, but papa not seeming about to reply, she added "If my course in the school ha* been satisfactory hero, I should much like to remain another term, at least."

I oould not imagine what did ail papa He really looked frightened, I thought, at first, and then dreadfully embarrassed, and actually blushed. lie oougbed and hemmed, caught up a book and "flllipped" the leaves

TERMS HAUTE SA.TPBBAY EVENING MAIL.

once

or twice,

and laid it down again, but still remained "tongue-tied," as it seemed. I could bear it no longer, for I could see that Miss Burton began to look pained and disappointed, so I broke out: "Of ooaroe you have given perf«* satisketion! Of oourse you must stay I Mustn't a a "Slav?" said papa, looking unaccountably oon fUsed still. "Ob, oertain1 ly, I wish her to stay! But—I—ah— yes, ves, certainly, Miss Burton, you have given perfect satisfaction as a teacher, and I have no doubt but what the

trustees will bo glad to have you remain through the summer. I will consult them soon and let you know."

Miss Burton was evidently surprised and hurt at papa's manner than bis words, both of which were so different from what she had reason to expect, and she said, with much more dignity and formality than she bad used with him for along while: "If it will be quite convenient, will you please consult with them to-morrow, ana let me know your decision to-morrow evening. I received a letter to-day from a friend, who wishes me to take charge of the school in her village, and I must give an answer without delay."

She arose as she finished speaking,and went and seated herself at the organ, and we took our usual positions about her but somehow an unnatural reserve socmed to have come over us all. We attempted our familiar pieces, but our singing was out of time, and lacked spiri t. Papa, especially, seemed absentminded, and made blunders without number, and at last, with one consent we all left the instrument, and soon after separated for the night.

Papa left home the next morning soon after breakfast, to bo gone the wholo day. Before he went, it happened that he and I were alone together in the breakfast-room, and he drew me toward him, as I10 stood at ono of the windows and said, with a look and manner that puzzled me sorely, for it was not usual for him to hesitate and seem embarrassed with his own family "You area wonderfully clear-sighted little lady, usually, Emmy—tell me, have you perfect confidence in Miss Burton? I know you like her immensely, and all that but are you sure that she is just what sho seems? You thought her perfection at first. Have you found no flaws in her yet?"

I felt my personal importance a good deal enhanced by his thus consulting my judgment, and by his compliment to my clear-sightedness. "Why, papa!" I exclaimed, without waiting to see if he had finished, in my eagerness to give him a "piece of my mind," now that he had opened the way to it, and, in a measure, invited it. "Why, papa, you are not used to be so exacting with teachers! What has possessed you to be so disagreeable? I can't understand it at all! Wo never had a teacher before who did one twentieth part as much for the school as Miss Burion has done, and now you go to hesitating and making scruples about keeping her another term. Talk about having confidence in her, and all that! I'm sure she can't have much confidence in 11s (I said us, but meant him). "I'm sure she must think us perfect Judases— making believe all winter that we think her just perfect, and then when she asks for the school another term, raising difficulties and making bones over it, as though it would be the greatest condescension. on our part, to let her have it

I was about to resume the "thread of my discourse," when papa said, musingly, as ho watched her retreating figure: "Edith Dombey!" and then turning to me, said "You compared her to Edith Dombey, Emmy, when you fii-st saw her.

Do you

think sho is like Edith

Dombey, now I fancy she has much the same appearance." I don't think sho is at all like Edith Dombey," I answered, with a good deal of asperity, considering my years, and whom I was addressing,"but even if she is, I don't see that that need to unfit her for a school-teacher. Edith Dombey might have made the very best of teachers, for aught wo know. Because she was cold, and proud, and married for money and position, does not prove that sho would not have been. I can't understand, papa, whv it is that you are determined to find fault with her, all at once! I thought yeu liked her, until now." ,,

Papa's looks were a puzzle to me all the while I was talking to him. Sometimes he would look amused and about to burst into a laugh then ho would seem thoughtftil: tken,again ho would color and look confused.

Nel came in at this point, and said the team was ready and waiting so papa only said: "Well, little madam, you have given me quite a lengthy scolding. I must apologize to Miss Burton this evening lor my seeming rudeness last night, and I hope we can make friends again—il sho is offended, as you think."

That evening—it was the most extraordinary thing!—she never did it either before or alter, on tho evenings when Miss Burton was there—grandma kept Nel and I in the kitchcn paring apples until eight o'clock. We were both quite restive under the confinement 1 the more so, because I felt ture that my

frcsence

was needod in tho sitting-room.

had no doubt, but what papa and Miss Burton were having a very dull, uncomfortable time of it and when the last apple was pared, I was not long in banging up my apron, and washing my hands, and making my way out of the kitchen. 1 paused in the passage, just outside the sitting-room doort net for the purpose of eaves-dropping, but merely to see whether they were reading and talking, and passing the time pleasantly, or sitting silent and uncomfortable, as I had feared.

Just then thero was a little stir within the rooni, and I beard Miss Burton say "But I ca.i I give up the school, just yet! I must teach one more term at least. She said mora, but her voice sank so low that I could not distinguish the words neither could I of papa reply. It touched me deeply to hear her—proud as I knew her to be in most things—petitioning for the school in that agitated manner but it was only another evidence, added to the many she had given us that winter, of the deep interest she felt in the improvement of the school. What could po«•ess papa, I wondered, twit be, of *11 others, should oppose her.

I opened the door. Papa was standtog before tbe fire, which (a bright wood lire,) gave tbe only light there was in the room, and Miss Burton was just dlaapi?" I asked, jy has Mh»

peairing by another door. What la the matter, papa going straight to him.

,fWnv

Burton gone away

You've'been cross

and disagreeable about tbe school again I know and she has so set her heart

in tho world why you have taken snob a sudden dislike to tier! He burst out laughing,which I thought very singular, for I oould not conceive what there could be to laugh at—caught

from you upon this unfortunate subject. I've given your'friend and heroine' am pie satisfaction for my conduct last night, and wo are the best of friends again and she can have the school and I can assure you, that I don't dislike her, but quite the contrary and, in fact, you have nothing to scold about* so, run and bring the lights, and find Nel, and when Miss Burton comes back, let us have some music that shall make up ior our miserable failure last night."

It was some little time before Miss Burton came back. Waiting forme she said, and went directly to the organ, and began to play, so that I had no opportunity to observe tho expression of her face, but several times during the remainder of the evening, I noticed plainly something unnatural In her manner toward papa— a constraint, or shyness, or something— difficult to describe: so that I didn't feel quite sure that they were the "best of friends," as he had said, after all. "She is so very sensitive," I said to myself. "and he don't understand her as well as I do. She was, really, very much hurt, and she don't forget it as easily as he supposes."

If the winter bad seemed short and pleasant, the following summer was equally se. Miss Burton was net at our house as much as during the winter, though through no fault of mine. I did my best to nave the winter arrangements for the disposal of the Saturdays and Sundays hold good through the summer, but could get no support to my proposition from any one—even granama declined to advocate my cause. Miss Burton seemed to enjoy being there when she could be persuaded to come, as was sometimes the case, and she and papa seemed perfectly friendly but still I could not divest myself of the belief that she had not quite forgiven him for his strange behavior about her having the school for there was almost always in her manners that same constraint and shyness, which I had first observed directly after that little misunderstanding occurred.

On one occasion, near the latter part of tho summer, she was spending the Sunday at our house, and wo were at tea, when Nel spoke up abruptly: "Say, Miss Barton, they all wonder if you are going to have the school next winter. Are you

She glanced up at papa and blushed crimson, but made no reply, and kne\\ sho was thinking of the timo when sho asked for the school last. Papa, too, remembered it, I knew, for he choked over his tea, and coughed, and finally

scensioil, oil uur Vj tu acu iici uavo if. Over Uio veil) allU 1/ I know she was dreadfully hurt by the laughed to turn it off, while grandma way you acted last night,and I shouldn't ingeniously turned the conversation into be surprised if she wouldn't have it, after all. She's proud as anything, and she don't need to go around begging for schools!" uon't know how long I should have gone on with my castigatory remarks, but at this moment Miss Burton hersell entered the room, ready dressed lor a walk to the village. She started when she saw papa, and a beautiful color swept over her face, and was gone again in a moment. Papa colored, too. 1 did not wonder at his feeling confused, after my showing him how strangely, to say the least, his conduct must appear t» her, but sho had usually such perfect control over her feelings, that I felt sure she must be moro seriously displeased than even I had supposed, to cause her to color so quickly at sight of him. She came merely to get her handkerchief, which was lying upon a chair, and with a casual remark to me, she withdrew, and we soon saw her walking down the path to the front gate.

anew channel. A few days after that, at school, Lettio May, the daughter of one of tho other trustees said to me: "Ain't it too bad, Em? lather spoke to Miss Burton about teaching tne school next winter, and sho said she was not going to teach at all."

I wonder why!" I replied. "Sho has often said to me that teaching is to be her profession through life."

Maybe she is going to bo married," suenested Lettio. Impossible!" I exclaimod. "I know every one ol her gentleman correspondents—I mean she has told me all about them—and they aro all uncles, and cousins, and friends old enough to bo her father."

Are you really not going to teach next winter I asked her that night, after school.

I really do not intend to," sho answered, bending low over tho papers in her desk, so that I conld not see her face. "Oh, dear!" I said. "It will be dreadl'ul without you! I really don't know how I shall got through tho winter."

I expeoted some sort of a sympathetic reply, and was rather shocked, and a little hurt, when she raised her head and looked at me with an intensely amused expression, her color a good deal heightened, and on tho wholo exhibiting no traces of grief at our approaching separation.

Before she had time to reply in words, an interruption occurred, and I left her, pondering on the meaning of her singular conduct.

Tho summer term closed in due time, and Miss Burton spent a few days at our house before leaving for home. I was glad to see that papa treated her with even greater kindness and respect than usua., and that her Bbyness and constraint in hi» company seemed much less than formerly. Although I was pleased at this, as I say, still I always liked to feel that my presence was, for the most part, necessary to their complete comfort and tranquility. Consequently, I was a good deal annoyed and grieved when, on tho day that Ml®8 Burton was to leave us, papa announced the fact that one of tbe horses was not in a condition to travel, and that therefore ho should bo obliged to take Miss Bnrton to the station in tbe light carriage, with but ono horse, which would deprive me of tho pleasure of accompanying them, as himself, Miss Burton and her luggage would be quite as much as the carnage would accommodate. It was very provoking, but there was no help for it, so I bade her "good-bye" at home, and watched tbem ride away together without me. ii'.

Christmas was at hand! Only a fortnight, and it would beat the door. Paps, grandma, Nel and I, were sitting jn tho dancing firelight in onr cosey sittingroom before tho lamp was lighted for the evening. I bad Just received letter from Miss Burton, and was holding it in my hand after having read it aloud*

How I wish ahe would come herself!" I exclaimed. "It she conld only be here at Christmas, I ahould be perfectly content."

Nel echocd my wish in some boyish way, and then went on and enumerated several characteristic qualities of hers which raised her in his estimation muchr above tho average of womankind.

Papa looked seriously from one to tbe other of us, without speaking. Presently be arose, and taking a turn or two across the room behind us, came and stood with his back to the fire, seemed about to sp»-ak, hesitated, and then resumed his walk. At last he said, still walking back and forth behind us: "Well, Emmy, suppose I go and bring her

Quite a sensible supposition," I answered, "mippot&ng you were in earnest, and supposing she would como with VOU."

I am quite In earnest about going, and am equally sure about her comhe replied, still continuing his

A glimmering ef the truth darted into my mind. I was upon my feet and racing him in an instant.

What do you mean, papa I cried, —•ringing to bis side, seising him,by arm, and bringing him where the

upon and sq have we all but yen flrol^h^shoiieupon bis face. Instantly and it's the most incomprehensible thing

niQIIKDk BU«iio upvii *-v I comprehended all that nad been going

on before my very eyes for tbe Hpt year. O papa, you take away my' I gasped, dropping his arm, anv ing my face with my hands. turned and threto myself upon lounge, and burying my face in ttot pillows, gave way to a storm o! soba that nearly suflocated me. Papa came and ig stood over me. "Emmy," said he, and theroirasa, world of tenderness in his -voice, "yon-' distress me beyond expression. I thought you would like it. I thought 1^.: was consulting the wishes and happineas of my mother and my children as^ well as mv own. Are you so very sorry, my clnld?" *, "I don't know as I am sorw," I re-? plied, as soon as my sobs wotald let me speak. "No, I am not sorry! But I didn't think of such a thing! And—it's, so sudden and—I've been so deceived You've all deceived me so l" I repeated, E with sudden energy, sitting up ana pushing the pillows from me angrily-:

I never suspected such a thing! And^ it's been going on for a year! Why has! it all been kept from me? Even grand-* ma has helped to deoeive me] Sno hasg known it all the timo I" "Hush. Emmy!" said papa, gently. "No one nas tried to deceive you. You have bad the same opportunities to know what was passing that grandma has and really," ne went on, smiling, "for* such a wonderfully keen-sighted little girl as you usually are, I think you have been unaccountably blind."

But I didn't dream that such a thing could be possible," I explained, my crying fit having subsided, and my anger along with it. "Why should I dream of such a thing Why, papa, you are forty years old, and have gray hairs a plenty, and sho is only twenty-one—you are old enough to bo her fhther!"

Grandma looked reproachfully at me —papa was always her boy, notwithstanding his gray hairs—but papa laughed and said: "Still I know of a certain little miss, not a hundred miles from me at this minute, who has often told me that I am handsomer than any of tho young men."

To think," I exclaimed, without noticing what he had said, "that I should be so blind! Why, I all the timo thought It was me she liked the best of any here and now I can recall ever so many things that might have undeoeived me. I started to leave the room, papa stopped me."

Wait, Emmy," said he. "you haven't said that yeu are glad. Can't you say it? And you, too, Nel?"

I'm glad," I replied quickly, and flew from tho room, for I wanted to bo alone and think it over. I paused outside the door, however, to hear Nel'a verdict. "I'm glad, too," said ho, "butI've been thinking it was a first rate thing for me that I've»been to school to her so long."

Tne next day papa left home, to return at Christmas, accompanied by Edith Burton as his wife.

That was many years ago, but never yet, I am confident, havo any of tho parties most concerned had causo to re-

Eer

ret the circumstances which brought among us. it t. $sr'waj IF you would understand tho disposition of a man, look at his companions if you would know that of a father ob-.Y servo bis son. !,

School .Toacliers^

•po YOU WANT —TO—

Mi 10

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Caa employ their leisure time profitably by canvassing for tho Saturday Eveulng Mall and its Clsromos. Send for circular of nstructlons.

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SaturdayEveningMail

REMOVAL.^'

p'-nr, THE 4

Jllif V--

l»niCE 92.00 A YEAIt,

Chromo "Cherry Time",

St,:,-'

mn ^4f*oth for $2.O0.

tflsii' te~ !*.T !/.' Ho The work of canvassing for The Mall, the best Family Paper in the West, l»especially ~i.pu.au. «^AMES

who can make, on the Hberal commissions lven, from *10 to WO a week. JTT

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Address P. ft. WEHTKAH, .. Publisher Saturday Evening Mail, l&R- te TERHE HAUTE, IND. Agents wanted at every town, Postofflc® and nolghlorhoocL

Saving Fund

STORE

IlfM Removed to 32 North Fourth Street, opposite City School. Where can be ftmnd a full

Block

of

Notions & Fancy Goods

Ilutterlck aud Domestic,, Pattern*.

Stamping, Braiding and Embroidering Dene to Order.

gOMETHING OF INTEREST. I

Parties having Sewing Machines

of

any

kind needing repairs, can save money by having tbeir old machines made as good as new with bat llttte expense. S. C. Bledsoe and Jos. Folk have permanently located at 197 Main street, over Ttitt's

Boot

and Shoe

Store, opposite Opera House, for the purpose of Repairing and

Adjusting

ofHewlng Machines.

In the above enterprise

ment of the best

all kinds

All

persons

lnterwrtea

would do well

to

give It their patronage, and not tnwttneuc machines In the hands of „strang •eating themselves to be Sewing Machine

me!7In their line of boslncsss. AI.L WOBX WABRAWTED.