Bradford reporter. [volume] (Towanda, Pa.) 1844-1884, 1857-05-07

| ed with regret from her fascinating face, be-
sides whose vivacity the first seemed tame and
cold for the sunset glory had faded from it
as completely as from the dim forest toward
which l now turned, deeply pondering whether
had seen Cora Kendall 1t could not be the
last speaker for, reared in that country place,
where would she acquire those bewitching man.
ners, or the taste displayed in the arrange
ment of those clustering curls and that snowy
dress thin and delicate as mist floating about
| her How could farmers daughter wear
white at all, in the kitchen or dairy where she
must assist for l knew the Kendalls kept no
servants. =" Impossible, she must be some la
dy from the city, rusticating, some wealthy
relative from the highest walks of society, and
| far above my thoughts" / concluded with q
/ sigh, which, however did not release said
thoughts Perhaps the first one l had seen
was Cora. If she possessed such soul as
seemed to look forth when | saw her watch
ing the sunset, was not surprised that she
had led captive so many hearts Yet there
would be no propriety in saying to her, Lay
| thy sweet hands in mine and trust to me-"
was sure never could love her, not that
had decided on employing that particular form
when | should have occasion to make so mo-
mentous a request. | tried to convince my
| self that it was not because | priced mere
| physical delicacy and regularity above the in
dwelling beautiful soul but to my shame
failed here, how else could L account for my
repugnance.
So absorbed was I with this knotty ques-
ton, that | scarcely noticed q stout boy with
bis yoke of oxen dragging tree with all its
| branches, down the precpltous road before
me- till felt myself dashed upon rock con-
siderably below the forest path, here broken
by ledges for my horse having just realized
that tree top was moving along the road
without any visible cause, was startled into a
sudden shy, which took me completely by sur
prise "TI not be such a coward to think
| I'm killed." said | to myself. had thought
so in the first moment Of agony.
Halo, there, are you hurt Z" said the boy,
coming up with much concern in his counte-
| nance.
/ "No, not much" and made an effort to
spring up, but everything turned dark, and
/ faded from my sense.
! When | became conscious, the neighbors
had gathered around, and were placing me on
litter I'VE must take him to the nearest
house." said one Jenkins house is the near
est but then Jenkins wife is sick, said an
other.
Wed better take him up to my house by
all odds, it's almost as nigh, and an easier
road"
81 believe | am considerably hurt inter
posed cant go to Mr. Kendalfs Z"
Why, YES, that's just what l was saying"
resumed the last speaker, you'd better come
up by all means, we've got plenty of women
folks to nurse and tend ye, and you'll need it
one while, if that's where you fell" he added
with a glance at the rough rock. | scarcely
noticed at the time what followed, but remem-
Der afterwards how, when | was carried into
the house, the fair lady in white screamed and
grew SO faint that she had to leave the room !;
how the old farmer looked fondly after her,
and said, Cora can't do nothing she's so ten
der-hearted, call Susan )" how that Susan ap-
peared and turned very pale, but after mo-
ment busted herself in washing and binding up
a wound Oh my head which had covered my
| face with blood and how; while everybody
| commiserated me, and asked me how | felt,
she alone was cold and silent, till | began to
! think she did not consider me much hurt, tho
| | wished her valuable mother would follow her
valuable example for the pain | suffered took
away all disposition to answer questions. One
of my limbs was broken, but the surgeon who
he'd been sent for did not reach Alton till the
next day.
Some weeks after my accident, we were all
assembled in the parlor, which indeed, | had
not left since first brought there" think
your work very beautiful" l said to Cora, who
| was embroidering with worsteds, and whose
| fair hands had long been watching with
sort of idle pleasure as they moved about their
graceful task, and thinking how much should
| like to clasp-to kiss one of those beautiful
dimpled hands "You do this so skillfuly,
that | thiLk you must have employed yourself
often in this way before"
! "Yes. have embroidered considerably,
am very fond of it," said the young lady.
"Then | hope you will sometime give me
the pleasure of seeing the former triumphs Of
your needle"
"Oh, certainly, since you are so kind as to
| take an interest in my poor efforts, you shall
see them now" she replied with ready, yet
modest acquiescence, which contrasted favor
ably with the manner of those young ladies
who have to be entreated by the hour for a
sketch or song of which they are secretly vain
all the time. Susan, DEAR" she continued,
4" a,0u know where they are, you have been
revolutionizing our chamber so that L never
could find them if were to try"
"I put them in your drawer, said Susan,
without raising her eyes.
"Ah, butt is far, and you are nearest
the stairs, so be my little page this once, said
Cora, sportvely, with such sweet entrcaty IN
her eyes, that longed to be her page. Per
haps it had some influence On Susan for she
laid down her work good hrmoredly, and
brought the embroideries.
"And now show US yours, Susan" ! said
when these had been sufficiently admired !;
have you not executed some OF this needle
painting ?"