Raftsman's journal. [volume] (Clearfield, Pa.) 1854-1948, 1870-08-24

4
= am going to press my clover-leaf, Mr.
Lyon, and keep it until am real old VIC
man"
His face lost none of its brightness at tn
thought of her being a real old woman
some time in the future, and he smiled a
if he would have made some reply, but jus
tEen Fred asked, What for, Madge?''
To Eelp me keep in remembrance to-day
when 1t shall have become dead yester
day, yonder. don't think could quit,
forget, without it, either; still such associa
| tlons go great way in our memories Jus
the same spell of sunshine and summer can
not always be invoked, but this little lea
Will certainly bring me back some of the
charm of this morning
Fred stared at her in dumb surprise
Madge grew more and more riddle to him
every day ; she had gradually laid aside
some of her little oddities, and showed of
tener, now, the pure womanly in her nature,
Fred called it ''the angel side," and fel,
some hesitation as to whether it had been
hts touch that had wrought the change. He
drew in his breath quickly at the doubt, and
resolved to test the thing before night. As
good many things, however, escape us
that we set our hearts upon, so, after all,
the day went by like any other day, and
Fred was as much in the dark as ever when
he bade Madge merry good night just out
side the parlor door.
The switt-wiuged days went by, and the
last day Of their stay came in with blue
sky, balmy air, and myriad of red throated
warblers filling the air with joyous melody.
Paul Lyon had met her on the porch the
night before, and asked her to ride this
morning, and came down early to fulfil her
promise. Very beautiful she looked to
Paul's partial eyes, as the glance he be-
slowed upon her told her as plainly as word.
could have done. The golden glory of her
hair escaped from her cap to fall in half
curls over the little blue velvet jacket, and
just as she lifted her hand to tie it back
with the loosened ribbon, Fred Hastings
came hastily out.
''Off SO early, Msdge, and alone?''
Can you not see that am not alone ?"
she said, little pettishly, for just then the
mans freedom wounded her.
''Oh, Lyon. Well don't stay too long,
We must gather our roses while TIE dew is
on them, and a whisper, which no one but
Madge heard, finished the sentence. and at
the same time called up a rosy blush TO the
dalicate face.
Il do not understand you," she said at
length, without lifting her eyes.
1T dosen't matter. Only don't fail to
understand yOurSe!f, Madge,' y the last words
Lyon heard them distinctly. Take good
care of Madge, and don't let her ride too
far he said, carelessly, to Lyon, as if her
welfare did not concern more than one OF
them.
The words, the tone, all taken together,
were, to Paul Lyon, sign of ownership, it
was true, but so unpleasant to him was the
mere hint, that his face grew white in mo-
ment.
Madge rode on few moments in silent
while her very heart ached with
thinking of the disguise which had been so
forced upon her. Perhaps
not altogether thoughtlessly, either, and
she felt at that moment as if she almost ha-
ted Ere Hastings; a moment later, and her
kind heart relentcd, and, driving the frown
from her face, she turned to her companion.
Are you thinking that our pleasant circle
will be quite broken up after to-day, Mr..
Lyon?"
Yes we leave here like the birds, at
the first touch of FROST slightly shivering
as he said 1t. Il wonder If any of us will
ever return as We are to-day ?"
"All OF US, | hope but who can tell? A
year brings many changes. -
True Though of hope we may have
something left, we always have most of fear,
l think.
Not you, Mr.. Lyon !; l count you brave
man among my heroes" blushing family as
the words left her lips.
You do not know me sufficiently well,
Miss Wilder In some cases l would, am
sure, prove the veriest coward.
Il cannot believe it.
why not2''
Il suppose because l have not known you
so"
"We may be brave in all senses but one,
my friend yet towards, after all .life's dis
cipline, where our dearest hopes are con-
She looked up with faint smile when he
said this, but of the many emotions written
on her face, the yearning love which shoue
forth from her very soul, he rcad--and
translated it pity.
A soft south wind. which bent the BIOS
soming grass aside, lifted Madges golden
curls, and, as Paul stopped to look at her
saddle, they we're blown directly across his
face. He gathered it all in his hand and
held it to his face moment; then, as he
released it, he turned to her with a remon-
STRANGE written on his face. You are SO
like child to me, yet, Madgie, that some
times fear for you. l find myself wondering
what your lot will be in life. and dreal lest
it should be clouded one"
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