Herald and tribune. [volume] (Jonesborough, Tenn.) 1869-current, 1871-02-02
HOwFRED FOUND A WIFE.
BY MRS. NJ. A. DENIsoN.

haoh Poi ioiiSC. d SdtCu- w cdiluyy uiSH-
toned, a rising lawyer, everybody courted
him. He had passed his twenty-eighth
year in the vain hope of finding some par
agon who would enchain his senses, and
prove to be his ideal. In the search after
this yet undiscovered perfection, he had
become weary. AT last, one early sum-
mer day, he found himself at Maplewood,
| a beautiful village among the hills. He
was delighted with Its surroundings, and
resolved to remain for day or two at the
| little Inn.
To his amazement he found fruit for
breakfast, though it was still June. ''Tis
like living in Paris he said to himself,
| slipping his coffee ''These Strawberries
are the best l ever ate," he remarked, to
the landlady. '.Do they grow in your
| garden:'
"Oh, no! these are some that Miss
Stainely raised. We've young lady here
who has fine garden, and we buy of her.
because we always get the best" said the
hostess. Her father died last year; he
was clergyman, and left nothing but the
house and garden. Miss Stainely supports
| her mother and herself"
/ "Miss Stainely must be quite genius"
said Fred. taking up his paper.
Indeed, she is her garden is sight
to be seen. They send for miles around
for her fruits and flowers
IAN old maid, I presume" muttered
Fred.
"No, indeed; as fresh and blooming a
young lady, and as well-mannered as you
could wish to see. Everybody loves Miss
Stainely"
Fred smiled to himself, and soon forgot
| Miss Stainely. But some hours after,
| when out for walk, he saw little brown
| cottage that arrested his attention by its
picturesaueness. There was vine-cover-
ed porch, with the Wisteria climbing up
all the corners, and there was great double
| roses, full of sweet o6ors, blushing beside
the pretty entrance.
Just then little boy came out of the
gate with basket of Strawberries.
pray, my lad." said Fred. ''who lives
here p"
Miss Stainely, Sir" was the answer.
Fred glanced again at the strawberries.
They looked doubly beautiful now that he
knew a young lady, and one said to be
pretty, had picked them. He wondered
if her fingers were fair. Then he laughed
to himself at the folly of such ain idea.
Suddenly voice sounded so near that
it startled him.
'.Please bring me my pruning-shears,
Janey; this vine needs attention. it said.
Heavens! is she strong enough to
WELD them?' thought Fred, with Il sort
Of horror.
.Ah! the poor little things how hate
to cut them But they must GO" said the
voice. And Fred noticed how caressing
and tender, how soft, low and womanly the
voice was. "And here's my darling little
Concord the voice went on, putting out
such tiny. moist buds. | gave it up week
ago, and came Hear cutting it down; how
glad l am l spared it."
BY this time Fred was in an agony to
see the lips from which proceeded such
sweet sounds. At that moment a gentle
faced, elderly woman appeared at the back
door. and said,
Rose, dear, the sun is getting too hot. :"
'.Yes, mother" was the reply; and
slight. girlish figure, the face completely
shaded by large garden hat, came blithe-
ly forward, sprang up the steps, and van
ished.
Rose! What pretty name u unused
Fred, more interested than he had ever
found himself before. ''And such a little
creature. l had fancied her large and
masculine in face and figure. Pshaw J
what a fool I am What is the girl to
me?'
True, what was she to him? 1t was very
strange that her voice haunted him So.
A little country girl who sold vegetables
he would not think of her again.
But the next day, almost before he
knew it, he found himself sauntering to-
ward the brown cottage. As he came near
there was sound of music; apiano-forte,
we'll played the wedding March" his
favorite He stopped, thunderstruck.-
What did it mean? Gould the hands that
dug and weeded elicit such harmonious
chords?
Presently the music ceased.
''She must go out and pull radishes,"
laughed Fred, nervously to himself.
Then bright thought struck him
She sold berries, seedlings. slips. Why
not sell some to him? He would, at least,
ask her.
You see, Fred was bold fellow. and
no "faint-heartcd" coward. In moment
he was ushered into a room, which, at first
glance, he took for habitation of the
fairies. Hanging g-baskets, rustic frames.
vines trained over every window; little
grotto of moss and shell-work in one cor
ner: bookcases, tastefully ornamented;
the piano, with one of the most beautiful
covers he had ever seen in his life; the
carpet like bed of ferns; the chairs and
tables quaint in their fashionings.
Miss Rose Stainely came in. She was
neither blonde nor brunette. She had
charming large, gray eyes, under straight
lashes; and lips just large enough and
sweet enough to match the voice Fred bad
heard. The mans brain was in a whIrl.
Never had he been less self-possessed.
But in moment he came to his senses.
Fred had that rarest of all gifts. personal
magnetism his smile was sweetness itself;
and his brown eyes were full of expression.
He was famous for his tact. With low
bow, he stated his errand.
Rose, at first, was shy. She seemed to
suspect the truth, and withdrew within
herself. But Fred, who really knew a
great deal about flowers, soon beguiled her
into conversation about them. Before
long. Rose was all enthusiasm. Her eyes
sparkled. her cheeks frightened, as she
talked of her favorite roses. By-and-by.
Fred happened to mention friend of hls
in New York, who was very fond CT flow
ers. at is for her wish these speci-
MEMS" he said. '.slrs. Stanton, though a