, 1865-01-20

iAioNNN@N
old. YOU must remember-oyer seventy.
took the sermon home, and sitting down by
nv chamber window composed myself to the
task of reading it, though at that day wai by
nj means fond Of sermons in any form. | un-
tied the red tape, unfolded the envelope OF ts-
sue paper, and glanced at the first sentence. 1t
did not begin much like sermon hope that it
did not encourage me to proceed.
She was a very beautiful girl. / think
never saw a lovelier creature in my life, though
know that we are very apt to be misled by our
imagination, and that the eye makes its own
beauty. But no one could have thought her
anything but pretty, standing by the garden
gate with her apron full of wild flowers, and her
curls, lifted by the wind, dancing round her
forhead like swarms of golden bees.
"My daughter Rose, said her father, and she
put her little white hand into mine as child
might have done, just as simply and prettily, so
that it was very hard for me to shake it and let
it 90 instead Of keeping it. But there was some
body else to shake hands also, and he standing
on the other side Of Deacon Olmstead, put out
his long, lank fingers, in black silk gloves, aud
performed the ceremony with which he always
went through with when any one went to shake
hands with him, and which could not have been
agreeable to anything except the village pump.
sMr Bitterworth, said Deacon Olmstead
waving his hand towards my companion with
impressment "Mr Dove, and he glanced at
me- as ifto say he is of no importance.
"Is tea ready, my dear?'
She replied that tea was ready, and we went
into the old fashioned house, for we were both
going to take tea with Deacon Olmstcad, and,
moreover, to spend the night beneath his roof.
having come to W-- on church business;
Deacon Oimstead making point of always en-
tertaintng two young ministers on such occa-
sions.
The Rev BENJAMIN Bitterworth was much old
er than |, and much more important every way.
had lately been called to struggling little
church exceedingly unfortunate in the way of
difficulties and debts where the congregation
seldom paid any salary, and always considered
themselves i'll used by the minister, who, in turn,
was somehow injured by parsonage called Eli
der Bagshaw, and somebody was always accused
of misappropriating the church funds, although
never could discover what they were And
the Rev. Silas Snow having taken French leave,
in great disgust the congregation had called Tor
an enterprising young minister, and had been
selected But for Benjamin Bitterworth, a
warm nest had been ready, and every one pre-
dicted him immense success. His was a country
church also, but it was a rich one, and he had
friends and influence and everything which
had not Deacon 0lmstead showed thathe knew
this by every glance of his eye and every tone
of his voice.
But Rose Olmstead, who-her father being a
widower-was mistress of the house, exhibited
no such partiality. On the contrary, | think
she liked me best; and though Benjamin Bitter
worth, long and lank, Il hope it was not envy
that made me think him so plain,) leanedacross
the table to talk to her in his oily tones over
and over again, somehow she always returned
to our old conversation as often az she could,
and made me very happy withher prattle.
She knew the village which had been my boy
hood S home, and had seen and spoken to a Sis
ter ofmine, dead years BEFORE so we found many
things in common. But even had wenone-had
we spoken in language unintelligible to each
other-I am sure that to have sat beside Rose
Olmstead, with her eyes looking into mine, not
boldly only frankly, would have been worth
the most eloquent words that ever fell from any
other womans lips.
1t was very happy evening; for afterward
in the cleaning, we went out upon the porch,
and she took me down to see the roses in the
garden and the honeysuckle arbor over the lit
tie seat where she sat every afternoon at work,
we stayed so long that Deacon Olmstead came
down afterus and scolding Rose for wetting her
feet with the dew and had something important
to say to me so that Benjamin Bitterworth
offered his arm to Rose to escort her through the
garden, while walked behind with her father
We went back to the porch after that and in
to the parlor, and soon there were family pray
ers and genial good night But it being q
! bright summer night, with all the windows
open, sitting at mine, and looking atthe moon
heard some one singing, and knew that, of al
that household, it could only be Rose. 1t was
a sad song and sweet one--a farewell, with q
plaintive fall in ii that was very touching; and
! 4 need not be asbamod to owr it at seventy
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