The Union and journal. [volume] (Biddeford, Me.) 1858-1882, 1869-07-30
will be in time for the plcasantest part Of
the entertainment. They will like 1t so,

too
Nay. excuse me. Two miles seem M
interminable distance to one so worn on
already, rs am And he threw back hi
head with u ludicrous attempt at an air o
complete exhaustion. Il don't believe
could walk two steps without suffering
from the eXertion. And please, Miss De
vine. be seated, it fatigues me just to set
you looking so ready for notion
And rs complied with his request, ht
went on:
But, may / ask. rs this picnic was to be
so splendid an affair, and as everybody
was going, why Miss Dcvine stayed away
1t can't be possible that she takes no inter
est in such vanities; no, she spoke with
too much enthusiasm just now. What
then keeps her nj home-might / knowP'
Iblushcd, and looked down in confusion.
IL seemed so foolish not to tell him the
plain truth. But then, to do so, would
look like praising ones self; so l faltered
out:
4 could not. I had to stay with grand
ma
You wanted to go, then3'
Indeed did, so much
And why couldn't some one else stay
with grandma There are eight other
members of the family, l believe, are
there not p
Yes, but there was no one else that
could, except Bessie or mother, and-I did
not want either Of them to miss the pleas
ure.'
why not Bessie rs well as--pardon me,
what is the name?'
Faith, if YOU please. Oh! IL wouldn't
have done ut all 10 haNe Bessie stay; she
is the belle of the country, you know; so
pretty and agreeable the celebration
would have been nothing without her.
Father would not have allowed it, either
-he is so proud of her. / am too; we all
are. And think You will admire her.
Indeed, you can't help it. Everybody
does
He seemed slightly amused at my en-
thusilsm.
NO doubt; but caution You, that rs n
general rule, l don't like beauties. And
to return TO the picnic. Why couldn't
your mother stayr
She wanted To. Indeed l had hard
work persuading her to go; but knew
she needed the rest and rclrcshment. She
works so hard for us ALL
Then il was at Your own request that
you were left mt home? 1t was volun-
tary sacriiiccP
1T is hardly worth calling u Sacrifice l
said, hanging my head with thrill of
shame ut the remembrance of the outbreak
he had witnessed.
He must have remembered IL, too, for,
n a.. l,nl, ,,,t, ~
face, he said, WAS that what you were
crying about? =,
Il was very silly and wicked; but had
struggled against ii all day. l couldn't
help it, indeed
And / glanced up timidly. What was
il in his eyes that made my own fall abash-
ed before them. and caused the blood TO
flush SO roSily i'm my cheeksp
/ could not tell; he only said, very soft
ly, Poor childr Yet l felt that another
moment would bring repetition of tho
outburst. so springing up hastily, said:
Il must 90 to the house now and see If
grandma has awoke. Will you come? i
can give YOU some cold ham, biscuit and
cup of tea for your supper. and little
music afterward, if you will stay and wait
for the party
Il don't know but that l ought to say,
NO, thank you,' but am particularly
fond of cold ham and biscuit, and fonder
still of II little music ailcrward,' he added,
rising to follow me.
1T will bc very ordinary performance,
/ warn YOU, said doubtfully, rs we went
in. Il am not bit talented, you know;
Lucy is the smart one
And Bessie tho beauty. What depart
ment, then, do you claim"
oh. I'm nothing in particular. Charles
calls me Observation-Disclosures. think pie
making is my peculiar accomplishment.
You shall have ~ piece of my cherry pie
for your supper (; that is, If you ever in
dulge in the article mt that meal. know
it isn't the thing
He laughed.
Il think will try piece mt all hazards.
This is the house is il not?-And is that
grandma ut the window"
Yes
And hurried in, to ask anxiously If she
had been long awake, and If she had
wanted me.
mo child, not ut all. But what gentle
man is that you have with you? Seems
TO me know his face; anyhow, he's as
handsome rs u picture Before could
answer he was ut my side, hat in hand.
Grandma this is Mr.. Liston, u son of
mothers old friend; don't you knowp'
Yes, yes; / remember. Mary Sey-
mour's son. Well / might have known.
He's her very image. Do sit down and
tell me how your mothers health is now,
And where arc YOU livingH She asked
with her face full of interest.
And knowing that grandma, once reused
to conversation, would make most adj
mirablc hostess, | slipped away to perform
one or two highly important duties. First,
l must spread the supper table with del
icate damask cloth, and the dainty 'bcst
china" Then cut the ham, set the tea to
draw; bring from the spring house n pat
of fresh butter select from the pantry u
plate of mothers snow-whitc biscuit, and
my own nice looking cherry pie; and then
after having given AN approval ut tho tott
ensemble of the dining-room, fly up stairs
to brush my disordered curls, bathe my
red eyes, and exchange my chintz dress
for the more appropriate blue lawn.
Descending again TO the parlor, found
grandma descanting, after fashion OF her
own. upon the virtues of each member OF
the family; entered, in fact, just in time
to hear her say, with emphasis:
We'll, don't care what other folks say /;
for my part think little Fay the Flower
of the fock."'
And TO catch the strangers grave
Il do not doubt it,
That would not do at all, thought; so
interrupted the conversation by the an
nouncement of supper.
Ii was certainly the most pleasant of all
pleasant meals, We fingered round the
table until we could no longer distinguish
each others features in the growing twi-
light and grandma declared that her bed
time had slipped by unnoticcd. Then con-
Quoting our guest to the parlor, LEFT him
until i had seen her comfortably settled
for the night and heard her say. with her