The Vermont transcript. [volume] (St. Albans, Vt.) 1864-1870, 1868-04-24

was he with the road and though tn,
snow fell fast he cleared his way throuoI
IL with resistless power. He reached
at last a spot where Allie and he had off
en- met-an old tree about mile from
her home. Old memories born of th,
surroundings paced through his mind
WIN relentless tread, and he was power
less to drive them away. He threw
himself on the ground underneath the
Tree, but the very stones cried out to him
and bitter thoughts goaded him. Hi.
whole soul yearned for her; had she been
there when he stretched his arms ou1
INTO the darkness, she might have saved
nm from fatal decision-once decided
not even she could change him. Now
he groaned:
How can | give her up? What q
fool | was. Yet it may not be too late
Will go to Mr.. Simonson, will beg him
10 release me, and lose my position and
the old mans love. | have toiled fol
The one, early and late, through weary
/ years, and the other / share with bnt
one single creature. But Allie has
grown to be a part of myself cannot
live without her-I need her-and now
| must lose her Must ~ He rose slow
ly, the snow falling softly and deftIy
covered him with its cool robes. but he
needed not; the furnace fires were too
hot within.
Wentworth flung himself across the
road and leaned over the fence. A curse
broke from his lips. He and Allie had
leaned many golden afternoon over
that very rail, watching happy birds
flutter and wheel through the warm
air.
Poor little Allie" he murmured.
haf 1
thing. 70 part from you-my life, my
love, my only love!"
AS he spoke he thurst his hand in his
pocket. Something ratified.
Great Cod" he gasped: "that con-
tract oath ~
de sat down again. Would his great
love or his ambition win in the contest?
Out in the cold night the battle must
yet be fought. One must yield-and
this night, with its mystic silence bro
ken only by the falling snow-fakes
must be to Wentworth Huntingdon in
future years the monument of shame or
of noble victory.
Old Farmer Birds house was two or
three miles back of the city. The swal-
lows knew where to find his outbuild-
ings, the boys his orchards. though 10
do the latter justice they seldom robbed
him, because they knew that nobody
loved boys-yelling, and rollicking. and
boistrous-better than he: no one was so
ready TO join with them in n frolic. or
help TO fill their pockets with the ruby
and golden autumn fruits. Many time
had old Ben Sutten's prayers been an
swered by cord of wood, or barrel of
flour, or bushel of potatoes from Farm
er Birds. The poor ofthe neighborhood
knew and loved him. He was vet Wig
Gus, and though his locks were white'as
snow, and his heaftand hearth had mis-
sed the wife of his youth this many
year, yet his face was always cheerful,
and if there was sometimes a dimness in
his old eyes as remembrance tagged al
his heartstrings, the lips never lost their
smile. But there nestled on his knee, in
his heart, and in his home, a bird, whose
very voice was sweeter to him than the
song of the robins that clustered around
the window in summer, to be fed with
crumbs-who builded, and sang, and
reared their young, and filled the whole
orchard at the back of the house with
their chirpings and melodies. His pet
had her mothers dark gray eyes and
chestnut rings of hair, and complexion
with the same delicate tinge on her
cheek that you will find in clustered
peach blooms. But his gift to her was
her lightsome disposition, and the old
man often leaned back in his chair, list
ening to the sound of her silvery voice
in some part of the hOuse-as her feet
and dainty hands were busy with some
household duty-listen. perfectly con
tent as happy in the exquisite sensation
her voice gave, as an insect basking in
the sun-uneasy when the voice was
hushed or so distant that he could not
hear it. Oh, this gay young girl was
the blessing of his life. He worshipped
the Father through His gift; his Bible
meant something when she read it to
him.
And where was Allie this dreary Jam
uary evening? Her household avoca-
tions quite accomplished she had gone
to her own dear room, and some tender
feeling in her heart wrought itself into
expression by means of odd snatches of
songs. Some fancy stilled the songs,
and she wound the rich hair around her
fingers letting it fall in massy ringlets
and confined them with a band of GRIM
son velvet, then buttoned the closely
fitting merino over her slight figure,
fastened plain linen collar around her
throat, with loops of soft lace, and in
their dusky folds hid a jewel Wentworth
had given her-a little diamond cross.
EXtravagant boy She would teach
him better when-n but the sentence
ended with blush and a low ripple Of
song. She heard her father come in,
and giving a last touch to the little APP
pointments of her dress tripped down
stairs Their sitting-room was cheerful
as one might imagine it would be, for
Farmer Bird was unsparing in his pur-
al. e foIa al To fort q
though he scorned "things Just made
for show Then, too, Allies ingenious
fingers could produce charming effects
from the plainest materials. Here were
only a rag-carpet, two or three cane-seat-
ed rocking-chairs, and cushioned arm
chair, centre-table with ashaded lamp,
and few standard books, a crimson
covered lounge, crimson curtains shad-
ing the windows; on the mantel stood
a bronze clock, pair of delicate vases
filled with paradise grass, and some
wheat and oats crystaliZed-yet such
was the arrangement of all that it had
quite an air of elegance. y bright fire
glowed in the Franklin-Farmer Bird
9'couldn't abide stoves.N Allie as she
came into the room glanced at the clock.
Why it is eight o'clock, papa. Did
YOU think it was so late? It's almost
time for Wentworth to Gomez" and Al
ice went to the hall and took from the
sideboard plate of sponge-cake she had
prepared for him, together with bottle
of currant wine, and carrying them in
to the sitting-room arranged them on
little table standing in one corner. Her
father smiled as he watched her.
you'll spoil him, Allie"
"But he'll be so hungry when he
comes, papa. How dreadfully it SHOWS"
she added, as she looked out of the door,
and toward the gate.
eyes, | shouldn't wonder if we had
sleigh-ride tomorrow"
Allie took volume of Old Curiosity
Shop from the table, and seated herself
at her fathers feet, but instead of read
ing Immediately laid her head on his
knee. Very tenderly that old mans
hard, furrowed hands smoothed her
ringlets-he never touched them that he
did not feel something choking in his
throat.
"Where did we last leave off, faith
er?''
cat the splendid wax figures, l be-
lieve."
Allie laughed, and commenced. Both
were so absorbed that the brass clock ON
the mantle struck ten, without their
noticing it, Finally Fannie Bird glanc-
ed up.
''Bless my soul, Allie! it's time your
father was abed; his bones need rest