Marshall County Republican. (Plymouth, Ind.) 1856-1878, 1867-11-21
The gepmblitan.
THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 2lst. 1861.
Making HAY.
Maud MULLER on many a simmer d.,
Rakcd the meidoxs sMret Nil. -,


link that perched on the topmost
branch of swaying elm across the
meadow, was filling the glorious
morning air with brilliant flashes of
song in a hundred different tongues.
Paul had the soul of true poet, and
what with the clear June air, the
smell ofnew mown clover and lilies,
the flash of the undried dew on tree
and grass, the rich bird song and the
memory of a pair of bright brown
eyes ne had seen that morning, he
had so far lost himself that he was
wholly unconscious of the neighbOr-
hood of any human being, until a
clear, round voice at his elbow syl-
Tabled forth in peremtory tone.
LET me have that; l am going to
make hay"
Paul opened his eyes very wide,
turned round very quick, to find him
self looking down into the very eyes
he had been dreaming about, and as
he took survey of their owner. he
saw what he had before failed to
note, that the face to which those
"soul windows" belonged was pref
ty face, would have been very pretty
but for an expression of scornful in
difference, almost superciliOus that
lurked in every feature, from the
curls that clustered on the white
temples, to the arched upper lips and
dimpled chin. lie comprehended
her thoughts, yes, her whole charac-
ter, at single glance as he saw her
looking with an mconcealed sneer at
his coarse shoes, and he smiled TO
think what a mistake she had made
in spelling so fair face, to so poor
purpose, and made a quiet little re-
solve. She repeated her command,
even more commandingly, adding
Are You frightened?-one might
think so from the way you starev
Not at all frightened, thank you:
but | had half thought that the bobo-
link had stopped singing AMI gone
TO talking. This rake is too heavy
for you; l will bring a lighter one"
and just giving glance at her to see
that the look of scorn had changed
TO one of surprise, he turned away.
Nellie Moore felt as a Yankee
would say little queer. She would
as soon have expected a compliment
from one of the colts over in the
pasture, rs from Uncle Ben's hired
man whom she had scarcely deigned
to notice at breakfast time, when her
said Uncle had introduced him in his
plain way-"Neice Ellen. this is Paul
Clifford, our hired man She had
not given him even the second
glance, feeling herself almost insult
ed by being brought down to what
she mentally denominated vulgar
level with the country servants, and
here he had turned her the very pref
tiest compliment she had ever re-
ceived albeit pretty sayings and fiat
ferries were not new to her, for her
little head had been nearly turned by
them last winter. for last winter Mel
lie came out and was the belle par
excellence of n very select set She
was now on q visit to her ''uncle's,"
in the country to recover her health
Well, there she stood waiting and
wondering, and when she saw him
coming she said to herself ''lct us
see what manner of a man this Sir
Rustic is who talks poetry to me-"
auo to her surprise she saw that he
had the bearing Of a perfect gentle
man, despite the blue overalls and
smock frock, and as he drew nearer,
surprise deepened for she was sure
she never saw a handsomer face than
that under the shilling palm leaf that
was pushed back from the broad
white brow, winter by contrast with
the bronzed cheek and bearded lip.
Il wished l had stayed at the
house; he must think me very bold"
she said to herself; then tossing her
head half angrily, "but what do care
what such a specimen thinks of me-"
and she fell to patting the fallen
grass with her boot toe, hardly look
ing up when Paul handed her the
rake. He went on with his work.
and she tried to go on with hers, but
somehow, things did not go just as
she expected; she pushed as much
hay back as she drew toward her.
ard her hands did not seem to be i'm
the right place on the handle. She
thought she would never ask him to
show her but before she was aware
of it, she called out, "Why didn't
you bring me better rake? this does
not do well at ALL"
He turned with smile and said.
"Ah what is the trouble with the
rake?"
"Why it doesn't make the grass
come up all smoth as yours does;
see."
His smile was a little broader as
he said, pardon me, but hardly
think the rake is in fault; let me show
you,-take hold in this way"
She watched him awhile-"There.
thank you, l can Go it now / think"
and she took the rake again; but it
was growing rather warm, and she
concluded she had done enough
for the first time; so gather
ing up her armsful of clover and lii
les, she went over under the old tree
and sat down to make huge boquet
for the bronze pitcher on the mantle
piece in aunt Nancy's "spare room,"
and watch Paul at his work; wonder
ing how it happened that he knew
how to speak so properly, yes, even
politely, when he had probably never
seen city. So she went on weav-
ing flowers and fancies until the