The new Northwest. [volume] (Portland, Or.) 1871-1887, 1872-04-26

pretended not 10 understand them. And
at last he took to teasing about the pies;
as she daintily rolled the paste, and
Jagged the narrow strips for edging.
Wouldn't she make him one-all his
own-at Thanksgiving time, for in
stance, for he was coming home then?
Oh, yes, he was sure she would, though
she gave no promise; he should come in
the evening for it. And then the time
came for him to go. And leaning
through the window-Polly colored now
the little brown wrist, and departed, ms
last words being, "If you love me, Polly,
don't forget the pie" / am afraid II was
too late for that 'if.n
For, dreadful as it seems, the Pollies OF
real life do not always wait, as the DOCKS
say they should, until decisive worn
has been spoken before yielding thelr
heart. Love comes unseen, unsoughli as
the sun comes or the dew; eyes ask, ana
looks ask. Prudence tugs feebly at the
holt. but her strength is weakness; open
flies the door. and Cupid takes possession
for bliss or bale. Which in our Polly's
case, it was to be, remained 10 be SHOWN.
Phil loved her, she was sure, ana the
hopeful sky was bright with early dawn
@DO you love me?" The words SO
slightly spoken Eummed around her
like a song, as she drew from It's nlulhg-
place Phil's pie. Such pie! CrlSp as
! frost, foaming white, except where heat
/ had erisped II into brown, with edge so
! trinity, so exactly cut, and middle
adorned with n wondrous twirl of paste,
embodying the initial +P, IA marvel
lous piel a pie to make the mouth
water, and put an appetite under the
ribs of dyspepsia. Long and lovingly did
Polly gaze on this chef-d 9utTe before
committing it to the top shelf OF the
pantry, and then, rapidly restoring all TO
its pristine tidiness, she fled upstairs;
for there was a hat to be trimmed;
housekeeper though she was, Polly was
no less a girl-a girl of eighteen, and
what was more, the prettiest girl OF that
age in Cohasset. Something was due 10
this eminent position.
So, shut into her room, she sat adjust
ing the killing little feather on her new
turban, turning now and then to survey
the effect in a morsel of looking-glass,
and by-and-by, as the gold began to
gather round the sunset, a sound came
on the wind-the distant shrek of a To-
comOtive. The train arrived at the
junction, four miles away. Far above
the woods, she could see the dim, blue
smoke. Down went the new hat, and
lovely smile parted her lips. That shrek
meant-Phil; and l question If Beetho-
ven's finest sonata could at that moment
have seemed more musical-so true is il
that we listen with an inward ear TO
which all sounds are melodiOus if they
suggest things we love.
Phil had come. The thought awOke
with her the next morning, and lent its
spring TO the many small businesses
which ushered in the day. It was for
him she rubbed the crimson apples till
they shone, heaped the clusters so taste
fully, and crowned the vases with
chrysanthemums and gay leaves. The
candles she inserted in the tall, plated
branches should brighten the room
when he entered, the noble hickory logs
should warm, the polished andirons
please his eye. She lent her whole
attention to the icing-Phil liked loaf
cake. And il ever the spirit Of Lady
Mary Wortley's sentiment was carried
outfit ever a room ceased to be a room,
dinner a dinner-it was now, when,
transmitted by tender alchemy, the old
farmhouse took on a higher meaning,
and Mrs. Pursalls nuts and apples be-
came indeed "the refreshment provided
for a beloved
All things in order at last, n merry
party set off for church-father, mother,
brother sJames, his wife and child-first
installment of the family gathering
and i'm the midst, Polly. The sun shone;
the crisp leaves rustled under foot; in all
Cohasset was no blither face than that
crowned by the new turban, as our little
maid took her seat in the gallery front
row as one of the village choir. How
everything seemed to smilel she loved
fha 1,1F F..1,
full day-this day which made so many
people happy.
1t was early, the melodeOn was play
ing a low, droning voluntary; the green
curtains We're half drawn-plenty Of
chance for the choir to peep out and
whisper, thing that all choirs like to
do.
az say, Polly, where did you get that
feather?" asked her neighbor. al only
wish somebody would give me one. It's
just elegant"
Mother bought if, (" said Polly, her eye
on the door.
''Who are you looking for, Polly &?
Your mother2 There she is, now. What
gOod-lOoking woman James wife is,
isn't she?"
81 suppose you have heard the news,
Polly ?' broke in another whisper from
behind "Ihe news about Phil Raj
ston ?'
mo. What do you. mean ?" with
sudde.I interest
He came up last night, you know;
{ and what do you think he brought with
him but n wifeI The old folks didn't
know a word about il. Wasn't ii a fine
Thanksgiving surprise ?''
"HOw did you hear?" asked Polly,
/ family, with white lips.
''Steve saw them-our Steve, you
know. He came in the same train, and
there was Phil getting out with his wife,
and the Squire meeting them, and look
so surprised; and Phil, he said, Father,
I've got a new daughter to introduce to
you And then some more in low
voice, which Steve couldn't hear; and the
Squire, he almost cried, and he shook
J hands and said: YOU'RE welcome, my
DEAR That was all Steve saw, for hC
had to come away; but Uncle Rueben
was up TO the Squire's in the evening
about load of hay, and Phips wife
came in, and the Squire introduced her
My sons WIFE he said, and looked real
pleased, for all he hadn't been told be-
forehand. Here they arel Look, Polly,
just coming in" TX E1
Fora moment all swan before Polly's
eyes. Then the mist cleared again, and
she saw Squire Ralston's white head
passing up the aisle, followed by his
sister, dear old lady, who kept house
for him; then Phil, and by his side q
lady. With unnatural fire in her blue
ewes she scanned the stranger, noting
the clear, olive cheek, the graceful, un-
dulating walk, the gait, which even to
her inexperienced vision seemed some
thing rich and foreign. That, then, was
Phil's wife, the woman he preferred to
all others! And with sudden power ol
hatred, Polly felt that she hated her.
| All the srvaef even nulses of her noble