Bellows Falls times. [volume] (Bellows Falls, Vt.) 1856-1965, 1866-08-24
Miscellany.
THE FIRST LOVE.

heard the clang of Merrick Masters ham
mer, on the anvil of the Hammerslv
forge. Often, long after the early dusk
OF the winters day, have watched the
sparks as they few away into the outer
darkness, through the wide open door, like
so many long-imprisoned sprites, just set
free after years of enchanted bottling up
And ever and always, while work was do
ing under the sloping roof, could hear
sort of anvil chorus. either whistled or
sung by the rich voice of Merrick Mas
ters.
If it had only so happened that some
musical enthusiast had come across Mer-
rick in his boyhood, as such an one is
said to have met Jenny Lind, singing by
the wayside, there need have been no an
vii for him, and in place of toiling for
pence and shillings, fortunes might have
been showered upon him, and critics
might have talked about his chest notes."
| and beautiful members of upper tendon
have flung bouquets to him, and even
penned him love letters on the sly, as they
are fond of doing to--well, no matter
whom, of the opera.
No musical enthusiast, however, ever
came to Hammersly, and it is doubtful if
anybody ever suspected Merlick of being
musical genius, unless, indeed, it was
the old parson, who had requested him to
make one of the choir, where he beloved
as gloriously as any basso profundo who
ever shook the walls of the Academy of
Music, and apologized for the owner of
the shrill soprano (rather cracked,) yclept
Miss Squiggs.
He didn't mean to go a drowning la
dies voices: but when be got going, he
couldn't help getting too loud. 1t was the
fault, he reckoned, of blacksmithing.
The snow was white on the ground one
December eve, and the golden sparks
rushed from the clogging anvil faster than
ever, and the song to which the anvil kept
time was louder and clearer, when some
body leading horse stopped at the forge
door and looked through with an eye that
took in its picturesque beauties at a glance.
By Jove, it's like some of those old
Dutch pictures" muttered voice under
a golden mustache. SD paint it if /
were an artist"
Then, in a louder tone,
" Hullo, young fellow; my horse has
lost a shoe, and | want it looked to imme-
dately."
The young fellow" dropped his ham
mer and strobe forward to the door, and
in another moment horse and master stood
beneath the forge roof.
As Merrick Masters bent down to look
at the foot of the horse, its master,
splendid parsonage, sauntered to the fire
and stood basking in its genial warmth,
and shaking off the feathery flakes which
clung here and there to his shoulders. A
light-haired, blue-eyed, well-built exquis-
ite, as great contrast to the brown Her.
cules OF the forge as can be well imag-
ined, though in his way, Merrick was very
handsome, 100.
Just as the blacksmith's whistle began
to play abont the ho f he was shoeing,
and while the stranger was standing with
his back toward the fire, admiring the
light and shadow on the wall, steps came
tripping through the snow, and girl with
shawl over her head came dancing in
from the shadow.
"Tea will be cold, Merrick," she said.
g. Your mother says
There she stopped, GOV cred with confu-
sion at the sight Of a stranger-one, too,
who stood looking at her as unconcerned-
ly as he might a: picture.
Certainly she was well worth looking
at--a pure brunette, with large brown
eyes and cheek like a rose; with lashes
long and curling like pretty child's, and
buxom form where not an angle was
visible.
1t was only moment that she stood,
with the red shawl slipping from her
black hair, in the full glow Of the fire
light-the next moment she was gone.and
fhe stranger turned to the blacksmith.
"A pretty girl that-your sister p
"Ne / am glad to say" replied the
blacksmith. {. Because she's something
better than a sister TO me-" said Merrick.
We are going to be married in May"
Then out rang the whistle again, shrill
and clear, and the stranger asked no
more question. He paid Merrick and