Bellows Falls times. [volume] (Bellows Falls, Vt.) 1856-1965, 1871-09-29

and laid it on the shelf. "You seem,
Mr.. Ross, not disposed to answer my in
quiries. | am afraid some misfortune
has happened to the poor girl"
"Would you like to know, ma'am,
what has happened to her ?" He leaned
his elbow on the desk, and seemed about
beginning story.
"Certainly l would"
"Well, you know when Lucy Wendal
came to me she was but little, demure
thing-not beauty, but so comely and
tidy, that she was pretty resting place
for the eye of old and young. She was
great contrast to the other girls in the
workshop as white to black. She Just sat
in one corner, and minded her work and
took no part in their gabbling. You
must know what parcel of girls is,
ma'am, dinging from morning till night,
like forty thousand swallows. Lucy was
very different. She made herself neat
and trim in the morning, and did not
lose half an hour at noon when the prem
tice boys were coming to dinner, twitch-
ing out curl papers and furbelowing her
hair. The boys and girls used to have
their Jokes about her, and call her little
parson; but she only preached in her ac-
tions, and this is what | call practical
preaching ma'am. She was little mas
ter workman with her needle. l never
had match for her since | first began
business, but (you know ma'am, there's
always but in this life J, she gave me
great offence. She crossed me where /
could least bear to be crossed
"Not intentionally, | am sure Mr..
Ross"
"You shall hear, ma'am. | have only
one son, John Ross, fine, fresh-looking
good-natured, industrious lad. | set my
heart on his marrying his cousin, Amy
Prince. She is the daughter of my
youngest sister, and had pretty fortune
in hand, enough to set John up in any
business he fancied. There was no reason
in the world why be should not like Amy.
| had kept my wishes to myself, because
knew that young folks love is like an
unbroken colt that will neither mind spur
nor bit. never mistrusted that anything
Z
was going wrong till one day ! heard the
girls making a great wonderment about
canary bird that they found when they
went in the morning into the workshop,
in cage hanging over Lucys seat; and
then / remembered that John had asked
me for FIVE dollars the day before, and
when | asked him what he wanted the
money for, he looked sheepish and made
no answer. thought it prudent, before
matters went any fnrther, to tell John
my wishes about his cousin Amy. My
wishes, ma am, have always made law
to nv children. To be sure, have tax
en- care, for the most, that they should
1 uS I6dSoudbi6. duu u lltlle WillIui, l.
own it but it's young folks business TO
mind and Children, obey your parents,
is The law both of Scripture and my ma
ture So told John did not hint any
suspicion about Lucy, but j told him
this marriage with his cousin was what
he could have no reasonable objection to
what he must set about without much
delay, on peril of my displeasure.
"He was silent and looked cast down
but he saw l was determined and be-
lieved he would not disobey me. A few
evenings after, | saw light in the work
shop after the usual time, and / went to
enquire into it. I had on my slippers,
and my steps made little or no sound
The upper part of the door is set with
glass. | saw Lucy was finishing off
pair of gloves-my son was standing by
her. 1t appears that they we're for him,
and be insisted on her trying them on
his hand. Hers, poor thing, seemed to
tremble. The glove would not go on but
it came of, and their hands met without
gloves. burst in upon them. ] asked
John if this was his obedience to me, and
told Lucy to quit my service imme6i-
ately. Now the whole matter is past, |
must do John the justice to say he stood
to her like man. He said this was
matter in which he could not obey me-
He had given his heart to Lucy, and she
owned she loved him. He said, too, some
thing OF my having hitherto been kind
father, and kind man-and he would
not believe that the first case of my doing
wrong would be TO an orphan girl whom
Providence had just placed under my
foot Ma'am you will wonder that
hardened my heart to all this, but you
know that anger is said to be short mad
ness, and so it is-and, besides, there is
nothing makes US so deaf to reason and
true feeling as the singing sense that we
are willfully doing wrong. | was harsh
and John lost his temper-and poor Lu-
cy cried, and was too frightened to speak