Raftsman's journal. [volume] (Clearfield, Pa.) 1854-1948, 1861-11-13
HOW 1T CAME TO PASS.
BY ROSIE RATTLE.

BY ROSIE RATTLE.
They were having such splendid time,
knew; every body was enjoying themselves
every ybody--every body but mel l could bear
It no longer-the feelings / had been strug-
Cling t. repress all day must have their vent at
last and, springing up, flew like startled
hare out through the front door, down the long
avenue, past the flower garden, across the or
chard, till reached my own little arbor, which
from my earliest childhood, had been my hid
ing place and refuge in every trouble and vex-
alton, and there fiingng myself upon the soft,
green grass, l gave way to passionate burst
of tears.
sIt was hard-so hard.'' sobbed while
my slight frame shook like leaf. 81 did
want mother TO 60. Ididn't want to be self.
ish, and ugly, and hateful. But indeed, in
deed, could not help it had wanted to go
so badly-had thought about it so much. Oh
dear oh dear oh dear" Aud l cried till,
worn out by the violence of my grief, could
only lie and sob, with now and then long,
drawn tremuous sigh.
Just then l heard, right at my side, the
sound of an approaching step. Before could
spring up, before could even raise my head
felt myself lifted by pair of strong arms
and seated-of all strange<places in the world
ON q gentleman's knee; the next moment,
after startled glance at my face, the stranger
(or he was a strangely suddenly loosened his
hold, and springing to my feet, We stood fac
ing each other.
s.Pray, pardon me-, he said, his handsome
face ia shing crimson. "You seemed in such
distress, you looked SO very, small and dainty,
curled up among the leaves, 1 took you for
grieved child"
His confusion was so very evident, his dis
may so apparently genuine, that, forgetting
my own embarrassment, could only blush,
and say with q smile
stI am pot much more -
aft was very foolish for me- he continued !;
"but always feel great dislike to letting
people alone when they seem in trouble. Can
you tell me whether am trespassng no
am looking for Mr.. Devine's house, and, hav-
ing natural propensity for short cuts. was
making, imagined, a bee-line for the Chin
neys of the mansion pointed out to me. Have
lost my bearings 7''
"No, you were right. You arc upon Mr..
Devine's grounds now. l am his daughter"
He bowed in acknowledgement Of the intro
duction.
"My visit is more especially to Mrs. Devine.
She was one of my mothers dearest friends,
and have heard so much OF her that love
her already, without lever even having seen
her,"
"She Is the dearest, hest mother in the
world. No one can help loving her" | said,
warmly.
He smiled, quiet little smile.
81 could not have it from better authority.
Are you the only child ~
l laughed merrily at the idea.
'Indeed, no! There are seven of us, and
am third upon the list. They tell me though
that am the only Weston among them. l
have my mothers hair and eyes you might
almost know her by me. But" said, alb
ruptly, struck by sudden thought, ssif you
have never seen her, and yet know her SO well,
by report, you must be"
80. Al
smile. "Harry Liston, of New York, at your
service. At present on my way to the re-
nowned Captain Cross, where, / am sadly
afraid, was expected this morning but, be-
ing shockingly lazy individual, did not ar
rive at the village till this afternoon, and ind
ing, upon inquiry, that your mothers lay be-
tween me and my destination, could not re-
sist the temptation to linger still longer by the
way"
"Oh! then you have missed the picnic 20
cried in dismay.
IN some strange way, had entirely forgot
ten the awe that expected to feel in the pres
ence of that most terrible OF "lions," a real,
live author, and looked up into his face quite
fearlessly as 1 announced this-in my eyes
extraordinary misfortune.
"And they counted upon you, too, 80 much!
I'm very sorry"
oThe picnic-what picnic Oh! yes, to be
sure--I did hear something ofa grand Fourth
Of July celebration; but l don't particularly
care for that sort of thing, as general rule,
and, to tell the truth, am just little pleased
at escaping it. Have I missed any great
pleasure ?''
"Indeed you have! They have been plan
ming it here for weeks, and the arrangements
were all admirable. Every one has gone in
The ighoorhood-evcry one from our house
except grandma and I. So you see you have
made your visit at an unfortunate time"
"Not at all.'' he said gravcly. ''But as
they are all gone away, there is no need of our
tadJourning to the house just yet, is there %
ne queried, quietly seating himself upon the
bench Of the arbor. ssIt is pleasant out
here, especially to a way y-worn traveller. You
nave no duties calling you, Miss Devine ?' he
added, hastily, seeing shade of embarass-
ment on my face.
"No, oh, no not just now at all events. |
Hrandma's nap will last for an hour longer (;
out you Will think me very rude-hadn't you
better go on to the grove3 1t is only two
miles iurther, and you will be in time yet for
~, me pleasantest part of the entertainment.
lney will like it so, too"
may, excuse me. Two miles seems quite
ah interminable distance to one so worn out al
ready as l am.' And he threw back his head
win ludicrous attempt at an air of complete
e4naustion. 81 don't believe could walk
"o steps without suffering from the exertion.