The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1870-10-15
Selected Story.
Strategel11 in Love.

afraid of that. But L De solhe sGafI vi tne
fohtning," said she, starting as the heavens
biazed over with sheet OF OF, name IN instant
yav through her fat fingers and through two
yyads of pink cotton, bursting on her ear like
the trump of doom.
SMercy on mew shlieked Mrs. Woodcock,
@tbat struck. Now you may rely upon it, as
true as you are living creature, that struclw
Mr.. Spofford's old sorrel horse, the only
living creature in sight, made no reply, but
kept on nlbbling at the white clover on the
green before the door. He only turned his
back to the driving rain, that flew from west
10 east so fast and so heavy it was more like
{, bank of fog than moving drops OF water;
and gave a passing SILVER when the rainfall
changed to hail, and ratified down in stones as
large as birds eggs.
But Mrs. WOOdcoc1 was above the blind
trust OF the beast; so, pale and trembling,
she pressed her hands tighter over her ears,
and looked at spiders web in the darkest
corner of the room as steadfastly as if she
were sitting tor her photograph.
The thunder growled itself to sleep at last,
the lightning flashed its life away, and the
sun broke out like sudden smile on baby's
face. Still the unconscious Mrs. Woodcock
held on to her ears, and gazed at the spiders
web until the outer door was flung open, ana
the chore-boy shuf1led in. He was hempen-
haired. buttermik eyed lad of fifteen, who
was either halfwitted or haf-crazed-possibly
both.
"Ho! Aunt Prissy," he cried, "what are you
keeping independence for the day after the
Fourth? 1t has all come off clear as new
cider, and you are wasting your time sitting
there like statute. You better be mending
my parntaloons."
AS he spoke sudden sunbeam darted
through the western window, and flashed
athwart the corner.
"If there isn't a cobweb right in my kitch-
emp quoth Mrs. Woodcock, deliberately put.
ting down her fingers and her feet, and going
for wing-a gray goose wing that hung by
q strip OF red calico on nail behind the door.
strikew she continued, appearing to discover
the grinning boy.
Sue hail struck everywhere, particular on
Doctor Seacrest's grapevines. | haven't heard
as the thunder struck at all, not even on some
folks's ears" returned Orson, who was main
lycomposed of a pair of overgrown bare feet,
blue cotton frock and overas, a set of broad
white teeth, and weather-beaten hat with
wide slouching rim.
you don't mean to say the doctors grape
vines are hurt essentially, do you?" queried
Mrs. Woodcock, deaf to the impertinence as
she had been to the thunder.
Don't know DOthing about no essences
replied Orson, who was fond of long words
but not cleaI as to their use. "But can tell
you one thing, though. You ought just to
see the doctors new grape-vnery he sets SO
much by. The tendons and young grapes are
fairly chewed to bits. Yes'm- / don't ex.
pect five bundled dollars in gold would put il
back to where it was an hour ago."
"How you talkw gasped Mrs. Woodcock
who liked to have things happen, and the
worse they happened the better she liked it.
She was Q kind-hearted soul, but something
to talk over was worth as much as her dinner
"But is it so?" she continued, doubtfully
"really and truly. Orson? Now speak the
truth exactly as it iis."
Orson had as much idea of the truth as he
had of geology.
"Yes'm," said he, getting holder. "The
doctor said to me, "Orson Larely," said he,
II wouldn't have this Management done to
my vintonage not if you had offered me five
hundred dollar bill right in my hand" And
then he looked as sober as anything, and
walked straight into the house. saw Mrs.
Seacrest through the oriole window, and she
was crying like fury. You ought to take a
look at it yourself, Aunt Prissy, if you don't
believe me-" he concluded, in an aggrieved
tone.
Mrs. Woolcocl1 did not believe him entire
ly, to be sure, but yet there might be some
thing worth seeing; so, after a little rejecting
she decided 1t would be handy to have dose
of salts and SIENNA in the house, and she might
as well step up and get it then as any time
There was no need to wait for the grass to
dry, for Mrs. Wo0dcock's chocolate and white
calico, suiltless of panier and innocent of a
trail, did not even brush the broad plantain
leaves and the fairy speedwell blossoms Dor
dering the well-trodden foot-path that led
from her doorstep straight into the world
And her heavy calf-skln shoes sqrieaked tc
scOrn the idea of "wetting through
So she tied en- her lOg-cabin sun-bonnet
that had a pert calico bow prospecting from
the top, took her crook-handed green ging.
ham umbrella, to act the double part of sup.
porter and protector, and set out-not to seek
her fortune, but to seek somebody's misfor-
tune.
The way to DR.. Seacrest's was across the
green away from the black cotton-mlls down
by the liver; away from the street of stiff
white cottages where the mill operators lived
away from the commonplace, two story dwell
lings clustering around the church, the store,
the blacksmith's shop, and the post-ofice; to
a bit Of level slightly removed from ''The Hol-
low" by a sloping hill. Here were scattered a
group Of houses where the doctor, the mill
owner, the minister, and two or three pros-
porous farmers lived. Lived, so the Hollow
people said, ''stuck up' and apart from their
neiehbors.
But this aristocratic isolation was all the
work of the Hollow, for, as Mrs. Woodcock
often said:
"Folks can choose their own place in the
world. Ii they have mind to hold up their
heads and be something and somebody, they
can be, or they can be nobody and nothing.
Either one"
Accordingly she held up her head and made
herself somebody, eqnally in the kitchen of
Mary Duffy, the Irish laundress, in Speck
Lane. at the lowest dip of the Hollow, and in
the parlors of the spacious MANSION that
crowned the brow of"Quality HILL"
SO now she went up the wide, flower bor-
dered walk leading TO DR.. Seacrest's stately
doorway, with the assurance of welcome
guest; and, tapping confidently on the open
door, stepped in with little nod and cour-
tesy, as much OF respect to herself as of defer
ence to Mrs. Seacrest and her daughter Miri-
am, sitting sewing and looking as tranquil as
though no storm had ever passed over either
vineyard or spirit.
Dear me! Is it you, Mrs. Woodcock? How
you startled me! Come in. We were speak
Ing OF you not half an hour ago." cried Mrs.
Seacrest, who was lively, cordial woman, as
round and flushed as poppy; and always
sitting in the sunshine, no matter what clouds
there might be in the sky.
Mrs. Woodcock came in. "Quite shower
we have had" said she, dropping upon vel
vet sofa. wi h an air of being very much at
home on velvet. 81 noticed, as came along
Mr. Hulbert's oats ale beaten flat, and /
shouldn't wonder if good deal of injury was
done by the hail.
Every likely" replied Mrs. Seacrkst, serene.
". "The hailstones were very large. But it
has come off beautifully now, and the air
seems SO much purer for the Storm
Some people might have felt put aside al
LnlS, Dut not Mrs. WOOdoOclr ho