Bellows Falls times. [volume] (Bellows Falls, Vt.) 1856-1965, 1871-04-07
How it was Settled.
BY AMY RANDOLPH.

10 themselves such u scene as this. Aud
the naples we're already hung with their
veil of crimson bloom, ard the spring
buttcr-cups were noddng their golden
turbans over the slopes of the hills; and
the prairie rose over the porch of Lang
don Cleve's "law Office" was putting on
it, drapery OF soft green leaves to serve
as background for the by and by roses
Mr. Langdon Cleve sat there with his
feet on the ledge Of the window, staring
intently out into the blue sunniness of
the outside air, and mechanically biting
the edge of his gold pencilcase; and it
was very evident that the aforesaid Mr..
Langdon Cleve was in the brownest of
brown studies.
''If had thought it was agoing 10 be
such bother as this" thought our hero,
|" I'd seen Riverglen in Jericho, before /
consented to serve as School Trustee.
And there's old Squire Milkin waggng
his fat cheeks and saying, (" leave all
to you, my dear young friend; !" and Fila
kan Miller taking snuff, and protesting,
''taint never his style to NEEDLE in none
O. these thingsl' p i suppose have as
much patience as most men, but declare
it is sorely tried sometimes"
He was handsome man to look upon
this Langdon Cleve, with bright brown
eyes and healthy brown complexion, and
mouth SO shaped that it stood in need
of no carefully trained moustache to hide
its we'll curved lines. Apparently his
twenty-seventh year of existence had
brought him nothing but good and pleas
ant things, yet he was out Of patience
at last
"If I've asked What are the princi-
pal rivers of South Africa once, Eve
asked it hundred times" he went on
whimiscally to himself And as to the
multiplication table and simple interest
why, they haunt me shall fetch up
in lunatic asylum at last, it can't get
the district school off my hands. There
comes some one now! It's the pretty
girl with hazel eyes. l told her to come
to-day but | don't know any more what
to say to her now than | did yesterday.
And the other pretty girl, the one with
blue eyes, will be here presently, and
what to do | don't know, unless divide
the little brown school-house into two
sections, and establish queen over each
division"
Mr.. Cleve dislodged his feet from their
airy position. and rose despairiugly from
his seat, as the door opened and a slender
graceful figure giided in.
" | have called to see about the school
Mr.. Cleye," said this young lady, Miss
Dora Brown by name, and distractingly
pretty by nature.
Exactly 50, said our hero, moving
forward chair, Pray be seated As
true as I'm living creature un-
der his breath" there comes the other
one p
And scarcely two minutes behind ap-
plicant No. l, came appl cant No. 2.
| Jenny Smith was blue-eyed, with
shining brown ringlets, making pretty
tendril-like confusion over her face, and
a sweet child-month, red as a rose and
twice as sweet. And as Jenny came in
she coIored and looked timidly up in the
face of the tall Trustee, and murmured
something about :" the school,"
! won't you sit down, Miss Jenny?"
said Mr.. Cleve, moving up second
chair"
i Jenny and Dora looked shyly at each
other, and Langdon Cleve wished him
self anywhere in the world but just where
he was.
For how on earth was he to decide be-
tween these two pretty, helpless, implor-
ing young creatures, both of them eager
and anxious to toll for their daily bread,
both of them capitally well qualified for
the position, and both Of them fully post
/. ed about South Africa, and compound in
terest. Had Jenny been whit less in
formed, there might be shadow of an
excuse for appointing Dora if Dora hes
itated about single question, Jenny
would undoubtedly have had the position
at once. But both were competent as
competent could be to preside ever the
dozen "young ideas" in the village school
and Langdon Cleve was fairly overshad-
owed with the horns of the dilemma
Excuse me an instant" said he, bow.
ing to the would-be school-ma ans. q
must go and get the minute book
81 wonder what minute book is"
said Dora, .imidly.
:" / am sure don't know" Jenny an
swered, under her breath, as if the dusty
bust of Shakespeare, over the bookcase,
could have heard her.
And under cover of this paltry excuse,
Mr.. Cleve ran into the back office, where
his partner, Roy Mecklem, was smoking