Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1872-05-10
The Leisure Hour.
sLEZ."



"What are you up TO, Liz?'' And Dick
Sanders. the tin-peddler, stalked into the
large, well ordered country kitchen, and
with only this salutation, drew off his grey
yarn mittens, and proceeded to warm his
almost benumbed fingers by the roaring
fire that sputtered and cracked under Liz's
large boiler of clothes.
"Im up to my eyes in the wash-tub,"
replied the individual thus addressed, not
over politely.
"That's what I was thinking" said he.
"The boiler holds out good, don't 1t now?
The last time it sot to leaking, 1 thought
twas all day with the patriarch-buttered
If didn't. No wonder that folks blow on
my warer'
"I was telling Miss Avery pother day."
interrupted Liz, THAT when she needed
any more tin things hoped she'd send to
town arter 'em. Your stuff has listened to
your CAB and brag so long, that somehow
it's got bad edication. Now them pans
never behaved like the pans Tim Bucklin
used 10 bring round. They're always
bending, and springing leak. To speak
a little palmer, I'm always afeard to trust
'em, specially when it's unusually import
ant that they should hold in"
"What in natur' are you drivin at Liz"
inquired poor Dick, a genuine look of Won
der overspreading his face. But before his
companion could have time TO reply, the
door of the sitting room softly opened, and
young lady, apparently very deep In
thou hit and very much troubled in spirit,
for her eyes were red and heavy with weep
ing, appeared on the threshold.
"What is it, Flory?" said Liz, scooplng
the white suds from her strong, red arms,
and with such little thrill of tenderness
in her voice. that The peddler involuntarily
turnt to see what it could mean, and then
remembering his manners, said hastily.
"Good morning, Miss Avery! Hope
you're we'll"
The young lady gave little start of sur
prise, and then recovering herself, said
with considerable annoyance In her zone:
I'm quite well, thank you, Dick. l
thought you were alone, Liz" and imme-
diately left the kitchen.
"Now what's the matter with her?' in
quired the tin merchant. "Golly amt she
been bawling, thought tell ye what It's,
Liz, if a feller wants to know the secrets of
families, all he's got to do is to turn ped
dler."
"And lie," added Liz, punching the
clothes in the boiler with such force as to
send the scalding suds in Dicks immedi-
ate neighborhood, causing said gentleman
to change his quarters without loss of time.
"Say, now, what is it that ails the gal,
Liz? won't say'a word about 1t to no
body. If do shoot mep'
"How long did you say you'd been trav-
cling round this country?" asked Liz, with
a conical twinkle of her comical eyes.
"Nigh about twelve year. Why?"
"Because it seems to me pretty near time
that you should learnt that win folks
is wimmen folks and when you find me
a woman that don't have her crying spells,
I'll find you a tin-peddler that minds his
own business"
"Thank marm," replied Dick, dryly.
"Havo queer sort of an idee, somehow,
that last remark is intended for me. All
day, Liz! Hope the next time I'm round
| you'll be better natured."
Not n word answered Liz. The peddler
jumped into his cart and drove away; and
| in and out Of the suds went those stalwart
arms, the muscular and unganly form
keeping time to the quick and defiant mu
sic Of the rubbing board.
"Oh, he's gone! am 80 gladv And
now the graceful figure came softly out
again and crept close to the side. of the
busy woman.
~ want you to read my letter, Liz-the
one have just written TO him."
"Well, who's him7 There are two on
em, you know" replied Liz quietly and
with great self-possession.
"Yes, Lis" and now the beautiful brown
eyes again overfowed, and the sobbing
child drew still nearer as she whispered:
"But there is only one / could write to,
Of course, even if knew where he was,"
with an accent on the personal pronoun
that told its own story.
"Then what you mean to tell me Is that
you have just written letter to Hiram
| Scovillc2"
"Yes, Liz"
"Wall, go on"
"Don't look at me, Liz, while read it..
just said this. You know how father and
mother have been taking on lately-calling
me undutiful, and headstrong. and obsti-
nate, and saying that meant to break their
| hearts,"
"Is this in the letter." queried Liz.
"No; l am saying this to you. You
know, deary, how hard my life has been
for the last six months-well, ever since
he"
"Yes, Flory, know all about it, Now
read the letter before anybody comes in"
"Dear Friend Hiram" came tremulously
from the sweet lips.
"Humph r. grunied Liz.
"What else conld | sayH' said poor
Flory, despairingly. "He Is my friend
isn't her"
"Tbat depends pretty much on your idea
of a friend. My friend don't torment me-
He saves me from suffering II he can and
II he can't, bears ii with me, carrying as
much of the burden as God will let him
No friend will ever ask a woman 10 marry
him the second time amer he has been onoc