Raftsman's journal. [volume] (Clearfield, Pa.) 1854-1948, 1860-04-25
ladies to send their message, as Mr.. Phillips is

ladies to send their message, as Mr.. Phillips is
too unwell to leave the library.
"Very well, then we'll go to him, John -
says the undaunted little woman and go she
does, dragging her companion with her. Mr..
Phillips, tall, pale-faced man, with witchng
lips and quivering fingers, starts from his
chair at the apparition. Since they have bear
ded him IN his den--caught him sitting on his
form, perhaps, would be more appropriate
fgure-he tries hard to be polite, kicks over
the coal scuttle in a nervous attempt to hand
them seats, and stammers out welcome, to
which, however, his startled eyes give decided
contradiction.
He looks little relieved when he finds that
the intruders have come for no more formida-
BILE purposes than to solicit a subscription to
their Coal and Blanket Fund land permits them
to put down his name for munifcent sum,
evidently hoping to brbe them into speedy
departure but still Aunt Rhoda stay ,rattlng
on about the weather, and the neighborhood,
and general news, until his slook of pain chan
ges into a look of puzzle, and eventually into
one of semi-pleasure.
1t is novel and not altogether disagreeable
sen sation to have the stagnant waters of his
existence stirred. Women he finds, like other
reputed monsters, are not quite so terrible
when closely scanned he can talk, after bit,
without suffering and hlushng, and when
his visitors leave, escorts them not only to the
hall door, but also to the garden gate.
| Other local charities afford pretexts for 9TH
er calls. Ruthessy does little Rhoda bleed
his purse, affirming that she ought to extract
heavy fees for the good she has done him.
And, indeed, he is marvelously improved
He no longer denies himself to the village Ia
dies, all OF whom Rhoda introduces to him in
turn. He ventures outside his gate on the
week days; he joins the Book Club, and at
tends its meetings-at first, indeed, with the
scared look of a shared thing, bat he gets used
in time to hearing his own voice in company,
and proves valuable acquisition to the So
ciety, not only by his suggestions as to the
selection of their literature, but also from the
| interesting nature of his conversation. His
! front curtain at church is now undrawn, and
rumor says, that he looks good deal more at
| Aunt Rhoda than at the rector. Belinda
Brown, who is rather an old young lady, adds
that it is really immodest for Miss Rhoda
Phipps-she doesn't saunt'' her now-to call
so often at his house but she supposes that
her age protects her.
At this spite and tattle, Aunt Rhoda only
laughs. In all honesty of purpose, she simp-
ly tried to win fresh patron for her poor
clients, and to convert sullen recluse into an
agreeable neighbor. She has succeeded, so
let rumor and Belinda Brown say what they
please. 1t must be owned. however, that she
takes great interest in her protege, and cham
pions him on all occasions against Harriet,
who, now that her love theory has proved false,
anu lie IlfoS llhO u commonplace gentleman
instead of a romantic hermit, is rather apt
with most mild malignity, however-to de-
preciate him.
New Years Eve has come again; and
little after eleven the sisters are sitting-this
time without company-in their little parlor,
when they hear knock at the front door.
Rhoda, much astonished, runs to open it, and
is still more surprised when Mr.. Phillips en-
ters. He has had sad relapse-his mauVaise
honte has come back as bad as ever.
He can hardly be persuaded to be seated !;
he fdgets with his hat he looks askance at
Miss Harriet, as if annoyed by her presence,
but turns pale with fear when by chance she
rises, if about to leave the room he hens
and haws; he begins sentences, and never
ends them. ssDeeply grateful to Miss Rhoda''
-ssobect for existence'-"not let the year
close,'' are the only ineligible portions-and
these but partially intelligible-of his frag-
mentary utterances.
Miss Rhoda soon understands him however,
and cheerily eXclaims sI know what you
mean, Mr.. Phillips but you'll never say it,
if don't help you, for can't send Harriet
up into the bedroom this cold night and if
wait till the clock strikes, l shall lose my
chance of helping you. You want me to
marry you, don't you ? There, Harriet /
said this time twelve months ago that I'd ask
him. and see have!''
Neither Harriet, snugly housed in, nor'we
who visit at her happy, hospitable home have
had any reason to regret that Miss Rhoda
Phipps became, month afterwards, Mrs Hen
ry Phillips.
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