Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 10, Number 9, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 30 August 1879 — Page 6

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rHE MAIL

I I

A PAPER FOR THE PEOPLE.

THE STRENGTH OF OUM LIFE. Leaves are fall tug, flowers are fading,

Blossoms me^t away Death prevailing, all assailing— Be our sueagth we pra/. Friends are leaving, hopes deceiving,

Dropping to decay ...... Homes are breaking, hearts' are aching— Be our strength, we pray. Plans are foiling, strong men quailing—

Gone Is every stay Kingdoms quaking, crowns arejihaklftg—

Be oar strength, we pray. 8una are sinking, soals are shrinking-t-Slowly ebos the day Time Is flying, we are dying,

Be our strength we pray. :t.

BETHANY

Elizabeth W. Denlson In Sunday AfTernoo* It was nine o'clock of a summer aforning. From the pretty iron bridge at the bead of the village street the' long vista of overhanging elms waa refresh log to see. The batcher's cart, with its white awning, ad jast stopped at the parsonage gate. Under the trees in front of the stately old Byrd bouse, some children were nestled in the long grass, curling dandelion stems and hanging them Debind their ears. Across the street, the doctor was issuing fron drive-way, ebirrnplug to his already tired horse In a thoughtful and preoccupied manner. Further down the postoffice and various "stores" constituted a business center of more or less activity, and numerous wsgons from the remote rural districts revealed to an experienced eye the fact that it was Saturday.

A woman bad been standing on the bridge for some minutes, leaning on the railing, and gazing down into tbe sparkling brown water. She carried a large, irregularly shaped bundle on one arm, and a covered tin pail in her hand. Her bead was sheltered from the sun by a black straw hat, round which a wreath of impossible flewers bad been fastened, and pair of curious gray eyes looked out from tbe thin, middle-aged face beneath tbe broad, flat brim. A newly made but ill-fitting dress of black alpaca, with a cheap, stlff"ruche" at thenedk, finished In front by a prim bow of red ribbon, completed her array, Which was evidently 01 unuraal magnifience. Her large hands were encased in light gray cotton gloves, much to short, leaving an expanse of weather beaten bony arm for the eye to traverse before reaching the plaited cotton lace which bordered her 8166V6S* "Wal', wal," shesoliloqalMd presently. "fAis'll never buy tbe baby a frock." Bhe seemed to give herself a vigorous mental stake as she spoke and getting a firmer grip of her bundle, and wiping ber eyes carefully with the ends of bet gloved fingers, she set off briskly down tbe street, murmuring in an intense undertone, "Forgot my hahcher."

In and out through tbe beautlfiil lights and shadows went the tall, angular figure. Not for an instant did she swerve from ber direct course. With the air tf one whose face Is set towards Jerusalem, she sped swiftly past the ancient residences so discreetly and unwholesomely shaded from the common gaze, tato the bright sunshine of the busy little public square. Suddenly she stopped before a narrow doorway, tramped heavily up the steep flight of stairs, with shoes whose squeaks testified to their newness, entered an open door, and planted her* self in the center of a spacious, chintz covered lounge.

It was a long, low room, with two windows fronting tbe street. A rag carpet oovered the floor, and before tbe table, which occupied tbe space between the windows, lay a large braided rug. Another of these mysterious products of Yankee thrift admonished the careless feet of visitors at the doof, and a third spread its wonderful variety of madderred and "otter-color" and rusty black before the lounge aforesaid. Fashion plates from various authentic sources were displayed upon the walls, while every available spot was decorated with tissue paper patterns of all hues of tbe rainbow.

Certain modest domestic properties were visible through the open doorway of the adjolniug apartment. A tiny cooking stove was flanked by a miniature sink, with bright tin wash basin and dipper and spotless dish towels hung above. There was a little table with the leaves down, and a white table cloth folded upon it, while the half drawn curtain of some cupboard shelves showed tbe carefully kept fragment of breakfast. Thin floor was as clean as thick yellow paint and recent mopping could make it, and an air of exclusive feminine occupancy pervadod the two rooms.

Tbe white blind at one of the front windows was drawn down, and near it stood a customer "trying on" her dress. "There. Miss Purse, the back sets good now, 'n' if you stand natural, 'n' when I've took up the shoulders a little more, and cut it out round the tieek,—so—'n' loosened those artn scyea a Icetlc morethere, you'll l:ok's if you'd jest bin melted pour into that bahsque."

The dress maker, who was a small, alight blonde of thirty or thereabouts, spoke with inconceivable rapidity, and kept up a pianissimo accompaniment to her words with a pair of sharp scissors. They twinkled round tbe peck of the victim in threatening nearness to her jugnlai, snipped a thread here, and pared off an exoreacenoe there, reminding one of nothing so much as the famous a word dance of the East "Wal, Lorindy Hackett," remarked the unnoticed occupant of the lounge, "mebbe 'i you'd footed it from English's 'n the blaain' aun, you'd know what beln' melted 'n* poured inter yer does wtttmf. Where's Bethany?" "Why, Car'llne!" said tbedrwa maker, with a bird like flutter, and darting a look at her visitor that took in every wrinkle and crease of the black alpaca dress, "bo VON there How beat oat you look 1 There's a fan what have you bin doing to that pollpnay? It set like a glove before 't was sewed. Bethany's gone over to the car to have a tintype took—-there, 1 wasn't to tell, but I'm always blurting out things, 'a' now I A told might's well be bung for a s: ap as a lamb, 'n* the long 'n' short of It is she says this morning, 'Lorindah,' says sbe, 'cant you spare me long enough to go get a tintype tor Aunt Car*line 'fore she goes away?' 'N sbe hasn't bin gone two minutes. I wanted her to pot on my white Jacket with the Wattoo fold In the back, 'n' fix np a little: but aha laughed and said she wasn't going to have her back took and sbe guessed she'd better go jest as she was. She had on that calico you like, whl:» grown'd 'n* a set brown figger,

Sad

on tiuow, 'n' she said sbe wish she oome flowers to put in her dress." "You don't say!" answered Caroline, with a little tremble about her mouth

.,.v

whole meea o1 sringys an' everything. aha owr •am. take the pail right along, jgneat." She •topped outside the door to look baok over hereboulder and aay, "They'a pie plant an' reddiabeaan' atshnnk o'rye an' Indian bread in the bnntU? fnr ye," and then she squeaked hurriedly down stairs.

flowara.roNtmda

an'

BfJI lu vT«rjrUIIIJ|« Dflji M4JWI want on, startingup, •TUJM to the oar, an* band oar a.bcu

At this moment a stout, dark eyed -woman emerged from unknown

iena into the little inner aanctuary. With remarkable deliberation she large pitcher of water In tbe sink bung ber gingham sunbonnet, carefully upon its appointed nidi fend Sttten* advanced very, slowly to ber seat by the farther window. "Mary Baist," said ber coadjator,now keeping time to her shrill and rapid speech wUb a swift movement of her sewing machine, "Car'llne's come an' brought us Something for dinner. Won't you put it away in the enpboard's quick 's you can, an, oomean' tell me how that overskirt was trimmed that you saw up to Miss Lace's? Was it ruffles or folds or blatf pieces or scallops or what? An* if it was soallopa what was they bound round with? Miss Parse's in a hurry for her dress, an' she dunno what she wants, but she wants—but she wants something that nobody else haint bad, an' so she's gone an' left it to me. I never saw nutblng like Car'llne. To be sure, Bethany's her own sister's child, but it aint every aunt that sets by a niece like th&L 1 let out, before I ever thought, that Bethany'd gone to,

Meanwhile, the girl who was the subject of so muoh tender thought was sitting, somewhat ill at ease, in the photographer's. green chair of state. The narrow confines of the .car were made tbe most of.

A curtained recess at the further end served for chemical purposes, and a cunningly adjusted skylight produoed the "Rembrandt effects," which were just then in fashion. Numerous evidences of Mr. Adams' skill adorned the walls, chief among which was the portrait of an old gentleman, finished in water colors with a pink, white complexion that Bethany herself might have envied.

A whole galaxy of stone-faced and moon faced oabies occupied a territory by themselves, and conspicuous among these "specimens" was a sweet little girl face, repeated ma^ ponding variety ronndings.

freat me, an' Be

Say, Lorindy," est step b'unoh on wall

She won't eara. w|hl%

Adams'

car to get her picture, an' nothing 'ud do but Car'line must trip over there in the blazin' hot sun an* carry her some flowers." "Yes," said Mrs. Baist, serenely and solemnly, taking up her work after a prolonged Interview with the bundle, "It was scallops. And they was bound round with the Bame cut bias, an' the basque bad a kind o' cutaway fixin,' an' that was cut in scallops, an' bound round, too, an' the pocket was bound round, an' the caffg on the sleeves, an' the flounce on the sham skirt was gethered skimpin', an' that was cut in scallops an' bound round. 'Taln't strange, when you come to think of It, Lorindy. that Car'line'd bate to leave Bethany. There ain't a smarter, better favored girl la the town, be they upper crust or what. An' she's been a lovin' child to Car'line."

Her voice rose loud and slow above the raoing sewing machine, and ber large bands manipulated tbe work on her cutting board with very substantial results. "There ain't no other way, I see. Car'line can't seem to make a livin'here, an' she ain't one o' them that's willin' to hang out morg cloes'n they wash. An' down there to Jefferson sbe can earn eight dollars a week in the print works, an' as long as Bethany's mother's so pindlin', she's got to be took care of. Afr Car'line knows we'll be good to 'em both." "Yes," shrieked Lorinda, taking a fresh start at her machine, "an'Bethany's getting to be a real help to us. Everything touches has a kind o' stylish idok.lf taint nothing but a calico apron. But I'm free'to confess I'm glad Car'line went. I don't think much of Issachar Adams, an' they'a no tellin' what he might take a notion to say to Bethany." "You needn't go td borrowin' trouble about that," retorted Mrs. Baist, in her most ponderous tones., "I'll reek our Bethany Gould anywheres, an' I'm rather astonished to hear ye speak so, Lorindy."

iny times in a corresof attitudes and sur-

She was looking up, she was looking down she was standing by a chair, sbe was leaning over the arm of a sofa, and there, just beyond her numerous counterfeit presentments, sat the real child herself.

She might have been seven years old, and in spite of her shapeless plaid dress and a lack of tbe pretty belongings that show a woman's care and pride, was a child of wonderful beauty. An extreme shyness enveloped ber like a cloud, but sbe glanced at Bethany once or twice with evident pleasure, and at length went timidly to her side, and put back a stray cuil that fell over the pale cheek. "Pretty hair," she said, and tbon she laid her mite of a brown hand upon it softly. "You dear little thing," said the girl, drawing tbe child closer. "Do you like me? I thought you were afraid of every one," "Go and set down, Agues," said Mr. Adams, suddenly and sternly. "Miss Gould, I'll thank you to turn your face this way, and hist yer chin a leetle now that's it, don't move now, your're just right."

And giving her a keen look from under the black cloth, he hurried into the "dark room." "Wal, wal, I guess I'm just in the nick o' time." sold Caroline's cheerful voice. "Here's some posies for ye, child. Where's Adams? Stepped out. I appose. Haint been cross to ye, has be? fife's a good hearted ereeter as ever was, naterly, but sometbin' or nuther*s soured him, as you might say, an' now his band 'pears to be against every man, an' every man's band against blm. But then I always did b'lieve in him, some way."

She bad opened her pail with difficulty, for tbe cover waa tight, and now emptied its contents into Bethany's lap. "There, pick out the ones you like best. I think some o' them little red rosea that aint quite blowed out lathe most like ye."

Her back was toward the reoees, and she could not aee the photographer, who stood outside of his curtain, looking at her with his piercing blue eyes, that bad a trick of stalling on their own responsibility when the rest of the face was grave.

Mr. Adams was a strongly built man of thirty, careless in dress and speech, but he had a certain sincerity and directness of manner which may possibly have accounted lor Caroline's belief in bim. "Much obliged for your good opinion, Mlas ChedeV'be said presently, stroking hia heavy blonde moustache in some

embarrasament "I don't spose I'm quite

ne pretty croeteri Gone to git a picter (so black as Pm painted. I oale'late to to give me. Why here I brought her a be honest, an' treat folks aa wall as they

better. But I haint got no meetin' religion, an' what's more, I don't want none. An' that's why you pious ones are down on me. Gueaa you're right 'bout the roaebnds I'll Ax 'em fer ye, Miss Gould."

He selected two or three half-blown roses, arranged tbem rapidly, and bending over Bethany, waa about to place one In her bair. But he stopped abruptly, and then spoke to hia little sister: "Here. Agnes, you know how."

Tbe child came Bwiftly, aa if accns tomed to such servioe, and with deft fingers fastened a rose at the girl's fair throat, and another In her dark curls, and went back to ber seat without a word. Caroline, by thia time had recovered from ber astonishment, and waa contemplating ber darling with admiring eyes. "Land o' Goshen," she now found voice to exclaim, "who'd a thought you was there, Issacber Adams? I didn't mean to hurt yer feelin's, but I don't see's I can take baok what's the gospel truth." "That's all right," said Adams, with a curious expression of anxiety on his face "but I expect I've soared Miss Gonld with ujy rough ways." "I don't care for that, Mr. Adams," said Bethany, "but I can't bear to have you say that you don't want any religion.^ "I didn't say so I b'lieve I do want to be good, but I said I didn't want nd meetin' religion."

He looked at her so Bteadily that ber lily face began to rival tbe roses she wore, but sbe answered blm with spirit: "If you don't believe in going to meeting, Mr. Adams, you ought to be a great deal better than most folks, so as to show that you don't need tbe help of other Christians."

He winced visibly at this keen thrust, and said in a sullen tone: "You're a hard jadge, like all the rest of 'em. I'd ougnter known you'd be. But this ain't business." "No," said Caroline, making a grab at tbe flowers in Bethany's lap, "that's a fact. You'd better git through here's quick 's you can, Bethany, lor y'r mother most likely '11 want ye to home and I've got to go in the stage 'leven o'clock." "Yes, I'll come right away, Aunt Caroline but don't take the flowers, please, I want to give them to little Agnes."

The tintype was speedily and successfully accomplished. Adams brought it out and placed it on tbe black velvet raok for inspection, but- he did not speak, and Bethany thought she must have offended him. "I should think it was a very good picture," she said gently, drawing out her purse. "Don't you think so, Mr. Adams?" "Yes," he replied, taking it in his hand, and scanning it critically, "it's a good likeness. No, Miss Gould, you needn't pay toe no money I shan't take it if you do but if don't mind giving me one of them- red roses, 'twould pay me as money couldn't." "Why, of course, Mr. Adams," said the surprised girl "you may have all tbe roses. I was going to leave tbem for Agrfes, anyway. I didn't s'pose you oared anything about flowers." "I don't want tbem/' returned the man, with a curious quiver in his voice, and pointing with his thumb to the roses in her lap, "I meant tbe one she put in your hair, or mebbe—that other one. But if you don't want to give it to such an outsider as I be, why you needn't. It't be a means of grace, though, 's your ministers say."

Bethany's Puritan anoestry rose up armed and equipped for the emergency. Her starry eyes flashed fire. "Of course I shall pay lor my picture," she said. "Won't you take the price out of this dollar bill, please. And I don't think it would be right to give you—my flowers. But Agnes may nave the others," she went on, softening a little, as she saw his darkened face, "and I don't mean to be cross, Mr. Adams, but I couldn't you know."

The photographer counted out the ohange silently, and laid it in her hand, but as she turned to go he said humbly: "I'm sorry you take it that way, Miss Gould. You hadn't ought to forget that I've known you ever since you were like Agnes. Good morning."

Bethany had nothing to answer, but hurried away. Adams, from bis post at the window, saw her graceful form crossing tbe street, with his little sister running at her side. There was nobodv to hear him, and he groaned aloud. "That's the way it had ought to be," he muttered. "If I had a good woman like her to love me 'nd the child! But she'd never come to me, never. She knows, and they all do. how bad 'nd reckless I've been. Think of her givin' me that little hand o' her'n! I ain't fit to look at her. Yes, I might be different, 'n' the very thought of her makes me want to begin all over again. It's got to be a cleau place where thoughts of suchaB ber come to stay, 'n' they have come to stay." "He turned away from the window, and there upon the floor lay arose that Bethany bad dropped in her hasty departure. She haa given it to him, after all! And it was not tbe one she had worn in her hair it was the one with two buds that Agnes had put in the lace at her neck. He picked it up reverently regarded it a moment in deep silejee, found a piece of paper, in which he wrapped it carefully, and taking out his pocketbook, put tbe little packet into an unused compartment. 'There's that much between her and me't any rate," he said to himself, as he went forward to receive a customer.

By this time Bethany had left the child at her own door. The pretty, shy creature glanced wistfully up to her face as she turned away, and any other morning Miss Gould would have stooped at once to kiss her, But now, in the tumult of ber anger and surprise, she hesitated. How could she bestow the caress which the sweet eyes asked for "Good bye," sbe said, in a voice that sounded bord and unnatural, even to herself "I must hurry," and she quickened her steps towards ber mother's cottage in the next street. Tbe distance was very short, but she bad time for a good deal of anxious and troubled thought concerning the events of tbe morning. "It was too bad not to kiss her, it isn't ber fault, and I do love the child dearly. I've a good mind to go back now—why, no, of coarse I won't do any such a thing. Mr. Adams! of all people In tbe world to be be thought of in that way. That way I What way I will never think of bim so, 1 will never speak to him again. Ob, bow I wish it hadnt happened. I most tell mother about it, and what will sbe think? But do love Agnes. She seems to belong to me, somehow. She's In my Sunday «*cbool class, too. He wouldn't ever let her go before, till I asked him. Oh dear I And he isn't even a professor of religion. But what difference would It make to me if he waa

Sbe opened tbe familiar gate Into tbe narrow yard full of gone by cinnamon rosea and lilaoa, paused a moment on the broad stone steps aa if to get rid of aome troublesome thought, and then went Into the house, leaving the door

TBRRE HLATTTFC SATURDAY) EVENINGr MAIL

mebbe aomellmes a little

open to tbe aunahlny summer air. Her mother's chair in tbe aitting room was vacant, bnt her aewing lay on the table. Bethany passed through to tbe kltohen te help about dinner. "I gueaa it'a later tnan I thought," abe said "but I wish mother'd waited 'n let me do it all." Why, what eould it mean The kitchen waa empty, too. There waa no fixe iu the cooking etove, and a atrange stillness seemed to brood over tbe house. "Mother, mother I" oalled the gtrl, now thoroughly alarmed. "Why, mother, what iathe matter?" Mrs. Gould lay motlonleaa and speechless across the bed in her room adjoining the kitchen. Her eyes were hair closed, and no response came to her daughter's tender questioning. Bethany ran out of tbe bouse in an agony or remorse and despair. "Oh, what ahall I do?" sbe cried. "I hadn't ought to have her It's oome. & we were all afraid it would, and the doctor must see to it right off."' Sbe flew to tho corner of the street, and looked eagerly up and down. To her great relief, Caroline's tall figure Came trundling towards her apaoe. The dootor was brought, but tbe poor woman was beyond tbe reach of his skill. In that heavy stnpor, midway between life and death, sbe lay, with no recognition of the loving care which surrounded her. Tbe neighbors oame and went, bringing all manner of impracticable delicacies, and Mrs. Baist ana Lorinda volunteered as "watchers" for the night. But the two who were nearest the dying woman could not leave her. Tbe "stage" bad gone its appointed way, minus one passenger, and the new alpaca dress was cautiously turned wrong side out and hung in a closet.

Sunday morning came clear and cloudless, with a reviving suggestion of coolness afloat in the atmosphere.'While the first bells were ringing for church the mystery and majesty of death settled down upon tbe little cottage, and the troubled countenance of the sick woman grew peaceful and even smiling, as her soul went silently out of bondage into freedom.

When it was all over, and the hand which Bethany had held in ber own grew cold and lifeless, Caroline came gently and took her away. The girl was so worn with grief and watching that she allowed herself to be taken care of. "Come an' lay down here on the leounge in the settin'-room, an' I'll cover ye up, an' mebbe ye can git into a doze. 'Taint goin' to help things none for you to get sick."

Bethany obeyed in a helpless, mechanical sort of way but when her aunt bad shut the blinds with a series of slams, and closed the dobr with an energetic bang, she could not sleep. Tbe fresh wound of bereauement was full of pain, and a sense of her desolate condition overpowered her. Now and then a remembrance of yesterday's occurrences darted through ber mind, only to be thrust aside, "Why, how dreadful it is for me to think of him now! But I know be would be sorry for me. Tcan see just how he wbuld look. I wish little Agnes would come to see me. Oh how wrong I am. I don't care, of course I don't care anything about him. And I wanted to tell mv mother!"

During this time, by the singular freemasonry of village life, tbe sad tidings had traveled fast. By half-past ten. when the loud peals of the second bell collected the people in crowds, most of the churchgoers knew of Bethany's loss. Mr. Adams had no sooner heard the news from a passer-by than be put on bis hat and walked over to the Gould cottage. Caroline, with tear stained eyes and hair a wry, answered his knock. He briefly explained that he was at theif service. "You needn't tell her what I've been here," said he, "but I wanted ye to know that I'm ready to do anything I can. An' if you're short o' funds, Miss Chedel, I—I wish you'd let me help. I thought a sight o' Miss Gould. Sbe was good to me when I was a little Bbaver, and I hain't forgot it." "I thank ye kindly, Mr. Adams," said Caroline, understanding him, "an' I know you mean well, an' ef tbey's anything you can do for the child I'll let ye know. But she oan't see nobody this morning, she's wilted down jest like a j08y, pretty ereeter!" 'Twon'r. hurt her none," said tbe photographer in a husky voice. "She's one o' them kind that's picked out to bear things."

He took his leave, and Caroline, glancing into the sitting room, saw Bethany lying asleep as she thought. "Wal, I'm glad the child's forgot her troubles," she mumbled to herself, "what on airth makes her cheeks so red? Expect she's feverish. I'll bile up some beuesetan'give her byme-by."

But Bethany had heard every word of the interview. Mr. Adams strolled slowly through the village till he reaohed the old church known as the "brick meeting house." The utmost quiet reigned, and the place might well have been the original of Goldsmith's "Deserted Village/' Here and there a solitary invalid sat at an upper window, or some half grown boy slouched along in a deprecating and sidelong fashion. Far down the street, a runaway child was wrestling with the nurse who had just captured him, and clos9 at hand a late straggler or two were going,stealthily up tbe steps of the sanctuary. Presently, however, all was still, and Mr. Adams had the field to himself. Although he was no churchgoer he could not help feeling the "Sunday sense" ot rest and blessing. The music of the organ stole softly out to him, and the choir were singing these words: "Wash oat its stains, remove Its dross

Bind my affections to the cross. Hallow each theughU let all within Be clean,as Thou, my Lord, art clean,' "That'a like her," be said to himself. "Them little white clouds over the tops o' tbe elm trees aint cleaner than she £s. Other days she'd be slngin* in there with the rest of 'em, like a bird. But now she's in trouble, an' I can't help her. I haint no business even to think of her, anyhow, but I muat. She's in my heart for good, God bless her, jest like some o' tbem white Aggers in the old country, where they keep lamps bnrnin', an' folks go to pray. Wal, I don't see's tbey's anything I can do for ber, 'thought it is to make a man o' myself, for ber sake. And mebbe, sometime—."

Hia face grew pale, and the train of hia thought went on. "No. abe won't.—never. An* its a mean way to treat the Lord, too. Here I've been all these years lettln' of Him alone, an'livin' like a brute oritter. An' If He'a what they say He ia, an' reely lovea a feller like me Jest,—wal, ieat as I love her, I needn't have waited till I was thirty odd years old, before I remembered Him. The square thing'ud be to behave on my own book, an' I'll do it,

The ringing had now ceased, and he heard the clear, ringing tones of the young minister, reading the morning chapter: "Jesus saith to Simon Peter, Simon, son of Jonas, loveei thoa me more than these? He saith unto him, Yea, Lord, thou knowest that I love thee* He said onto him, Feed my lambs."

"That's it," said Adams, getting up from the corner of tbe step where he bad been aitting. "that hits me right on the bead. Goin' to meetin' or not coin' ain't nothin' 'thout a man takea bold to help, I don't spose I'm to blame for glttin' a sight o' the Lord through girl's sweet ways, but I'll enlist now for the rest o' the campaign, neck or nothin'. An' 'taint none o' my business If some o' tbe church members do keep all their goodness forSundsys. Tbey's bad eggs everywhere."

He took out bis pocketbook, and was about to open it, but suddenly checked himself. "No, I won't I won't look at the flower ahe'a wore, till I've begun in earnest."

And then he went his way. Tbe next week a commit te of ways and means oonvened in the little sitting room, Mrs. Baist and Lorinda presiding. A black dreas for Bethany was the ostensible cause of their meeting, and all Were busy aocording to tbeu gifts.

Tbe two dressmakers ooc&pied the vantage ground at tbe windows, Mrs. Baist being solemnly employed on tbe skirt of the garment, while- her brisk partner was fiercely, grappling with the difficulties of the "basque." Caroline sat a little apart, meekly "covering cord," and Bethany, with a'shawl over her pretty shoulders, was waiting patiently to repeat the process of "trying on." "There don't appear to be nothing of ye, Bethany," begin Loriada, "I calo'Iated that tbis 'ad be a snug fit, an' now I've took In half inch seams everywhere. 'Twont do for you to be runnin' down this way." "Ob, I'm well," said Bethany, with a little impatienoe of manner "there isn't anything tbe matter with me, but I wish I knew what to do." "Yes, she's well," put In Mrs. Baist. "I was jest as slim as a knittin' needle before I was marrien. But that pntsime In mind—I see his brother from Pawlet, this mornln', an' he wanted to know If I knew of a schoolma'am for their deestrict school. The girl they hired was took down with typhoid fever, an' they can't seem to git hold o' nobody else. I declare, Bethany, I never thought o' you till this blessed minnit, bnt couldnt you keep school? Square Snow always boards the teachers, an' 'twould be a good home, for ye. What do you think, Car'line?" "I want to know," broke in Lorinda. "Well now I'v got the piece that fits right onto that, as you might say. My brother-in-law wants to hire a little place durin' this summer, an' then bring on bis family an' he'd like notbin better than to take this house an' garden, Car'line, an' he'd pay you well for it, too." "Oh, yes," said Bethany, with bright ening eyes, "I should like to go, Aunt Caroline and I'm sure I could pass an examination. But wbat'll you do?" "Don't you worry about me," answered Caroline, reaching out-for the scissors. "I hate to have ye away from me, but 'twont be fur, an'ye kin comedown Saturdays, ef ye want to. The girls '11 be glad to put up a bed in the back chamber for us, an' I'll help 'em enough to make it even."

The "girls" both signified their cordial approval ef this measure, and so it came pass that the next week found Bethany beginning her new duties. The tintype went into active service after all. Caroline decided to stay with Lorinda, and give Mrs. Baist a chance to visit "hi3 folks," and the two women looked at the picture perpetually, as it hung in a wonderful card board frame between the front windows.

Mr. Adams bad been heard from only in the way of sundry substantial reminders. Certain choice cuts of steak, and "messes" of asparagus, and a magnificent string oi trout testified to his continued kindly thought of them. But Bethany had not met him since her mother's death, and felt sure he had not forgiven her anger and alarm at his request. She began to have a strong desire to see bim again "just once before I go," she saidTn one of the frequent conversations which she was in the habit of holding with herself. "I don't want bim to think that I feel above bim, and I don't suppose he cares anything about me at all. I have been so silly, and mother wouldn't have thought it was right, I know. Perhaps it's best I shouldn't aee him, though, for somehow I can't help liking him better than I did, and I ao love little AgneB. I should think she might come to see me.

As if in answer to her unspoken thought the child appeared then and there, coming toward her where she sat on the door stone. "I wanted to come and see you before, Miss Gould," she said shyly, "but brother wouldn't let me till to-day wo heard you was goin' away, and then he said I could come and he picked these flowers for me to bring to you." She had a bunch of fragrant syringas in her hand, and now held them out timidly. Bethany took the bouquet, and made room for Agnes on the broad stone beside ber. She was astonished at ber own satisfaction in the offering, and in the presense of the little girl. Not once since ber sorrow had any human come so near her, and the relief was so complete that she could not question its antecedents. Sbe put her arm about the happy child, and the two sat there in most loving companionship nntil tbe gathering twilight warned tbem both.

to go away. Won't you let- brother bring me up to see you sometime "Yes," answered Bethany, without stopping to think, and furiously angry with herself directly for the permission. But the little visitor waa gone, and leaning over tbe gate to look after her, tbe girl saw Mr. Adams walk leisurely up from the next street to lead ber home. Her pride rose. So he had seen tbem

plain

there were tbe flowers. With a sudden resolve, sbe went into the kltcben, where Caroline was getting anpper, "Bethany," said tbe faithful soul, "won't you throw in a bahnful o' tbem chlpa? I'm goin' down suller after tbe butter 'n' muk, 'n' I expect the griddle aint quite hot enough.0

The chips went into tbe glowing fire, and after tbem the sweet white flowers, and Miss Gould ate ber supper ot griddle cakes and maple syrup with mingled feelings of regret for her loss, and a somewhat self-righteous enjoyment of the sacrifice.

Two months went by, and the young teacher was thoroughly at borne in her new sphere. Her gentle firmness bad won tbe respect ana love of her scholars, and the bracing air of tbe bill country had brought back the b:oom to her cheek*. Lorinda's half inch seams bad dwindled to the narrowest proportions possible, and Bethany, with tbe elastic tendencies of youth In her f*vor.

busy and happy in spite of herself. Motherly Mrs.Snow, who bad a trio of blooming daughters of ber own^left no stone unturned to amuse and divert this "other daughter" as she

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Saturday Evening,

"MAIL,

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