Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1871-08-11

from the brook side, had asked her for
bowl of bread and milk. Linn had carried
it to him out under the great maple, and
had sat near by while he ate it. Linn re-
membered the pleasant eyes that looked at
her from over the curling beard, and how,
when he went away, he had stopped to bid
her good bye-kissing her "for his own
little girl at homeland had slipped into
her hand something small and round and
shining, telling her to buy something nice
for herself. And then, saying perhaps
they should meet again sometime, he had
gathered together his fishing tackle, sprung
upon his horse and cantered out of sight.
And this was her gold dollar How Linn.
had treasured IL all these months. Muslin
paper to wrap it in, and her little box with
pink rose under glass in the cover, were
not half good enough for so rare present.
She never thought Of spending it, though
she had no money. Mrs. Pike had once
promised her, if she would keep at the
head of her class, and go through the term.
without missing wordalf s0min51, tfr
reward of one cent. But here was dollar,
the first gold one Linn had ever seen, and
it seemed of immense value. That farm
might be bought for it she had no doubt.
But even that would be poor exchange
for the sweet memories of that day, and of
her beautiful friend with the kind eyes,
She would never forget the feeling of his
soft beard on her check. Why should she?
No one had kissed her since, or would A.
gain, ever, perhaps.
And the gold dollar must be given up.
That was the thought as the child bent up
on the wet floor, her fingers bleeding as
she picked up the sharp pieces. That done,
she obeyed the harsh command.
"Run right along now m get me yer
gold dollar Pretty child you be to own
money when you're breaking up chiny that
amt your'n.'
Can you see the little thing as she goes to
the old chest, and takes out the small box
with the pink rose in the cover? Can you
imagine how the sad heart grew big, well
nigh to bursting, as the tears rained upon
the mu slim paper, and she, trembling, un-
folded and looked at her treasure for the
last time? Do you know that in giving up
the tiny yellow coin, she seemed to give up
old days? All, there is nothing so hope
less as a child's trouble with its elders,
nothing so heartless as the wanton causing
such trouble.
"There, now we'll see," growled Mrs.
Samantha Pike, and she seized the dollar
out of the little hand, and dropped it, re-
morseessly, into the chest till.
The work was finished at last. 1t was
o'clock. Six was stage time, for Eldad
Pixies farm lay along the stage road from
the inland city of X. Tonight were
coming two passengers for the farmhouse
Two months previous it had been arranged
by letters, cramped, laborously penned on
one side, graceful, elegant easy on the 9TH
er, that Mrs. DR.. Innis and her daughter
Ruth, should spend the warm weeks at the
farm. What an event this was to Linn
cannot be told. Day aud night, for. six.
weeks, her mind had been full of pictures
of these people who were to come. Would
Ruth be tall or plump? Would she have
curling hair, and would she wear bronze
boots and kid gloves, like the little girl
from New York, who had sat in the min
sters pew once last summer?
Now they were coming, and the heavy
grief of the gold dollar was put by, for the
time, in the excitement of the OCCASION
Linn stood on the porch, having just wash
ed her face and hands, and brushed her
heavy dark hair. Now was coming the
grand struggle of the day, the trial to which
she had looked forward for month. 1t
was her dress. She wore an old patched,
and what was worse, soled calico. She
had up stairs new pink gingham which
was to be her Injecting gown" this sum-
mer, and what the child wanted was per-
mission to put on this pink gingham for
this afternoon. But how should she raise
courage to ask Aunt Samantha? How state
the question into the most agreeable form
Never did diplomatist more carefully study
surroundings and mature approaches.
"Tll wait till she comes out of her room
with her cap on said the child to herself.
"Then I'll ask her when she takes her
knitting work into grama's room. She's
sometimes pleasant there"
"What are you hangin' round here tor?'
asked Mrs. Pike, as Linn changed ncrv-
ously from one position to another.
"Nothing," answered the child, fear con
| quering the truth, as is usual in case Of
such hous ehold discipline as Aunt Saman-
| thas.
"Ill wait till the minute hand Of the
clock gets to the six, and then I'll count
fifty, and then I'll ask her." said our little
diplomatist to herself
"Aunt Samantha?"
"Well, what?" snappishly.
Don't you think l might pat ON my
gingham dress?"
"Put-on-what ?"
Mrs. Pixies needles stood still, and she
looked as though the child had proposed
to put on her wedding silk, which had lain
in lavender for twenty years.
so dear. It's no use" thought Linn.
She said, ~ thought this dress looked bad
and as there was company coming-I
thought"
"Land sakes! Who cares what you
thought. Things have come to putty pass
if IA good calico gown amt fine enough for
You to wear emmy day at home. Drelful
smart we're gettin' all at once. I've got
my failin's, but I'm thankful vanity hain't
one of 'em. No, nor never was. There
was my sister Milissy, now. Milissy She
81 thought, perhaps, because Mrs. Innis
was going to be here" said Linn, determ-
ined to strike one more blow against the
hateful old print.
"Miss Innis Mercy to me, what o. Miss
Innis2' 1t may be well to explain that
the mother was referred to, and not the
daughter here. "What d'you spose they'll
care bout your You amt nothin' to 'em
only to wash dishes clean, and not break
pitchures all to pieces. Put on your ging-
ham gown That's fine storyl"
samantha"
voice from the bed, where grandmoth-
er lay, and had lain for six years. A Grip
| Dla thOuph she vns har oar ,vaS ~ sham