Lamoille newsdealer. [volume] (Hyde Park, Vt.) 1860-1877, 1872-11-06
BABETTE.

BABETTE.
B.bette sat In the doorway Of the old hut,
dreaming. Her clumsy shoes were flung
,s;Se her bare feet touched the water that
rippled up 10 the very door.
"a crazy old place, the country people
called it and there certainly was a wild
Ophelia-like grace about the ruinous building,
crowned with tufts Of wiry, wind-blown grass
That. spiring up through the chinks Of the
roof and in the crannies Of the decayed win
dow sills. caught here and there the sunlight,
aud lent changeful charm to the desolate
spot.
Far back and beyond II stretched the sea-
beach. the long sand levels, over which at
tiderising the sea came crawling up, shaking
the old ruin to its very foundations. Indeed,
there was legend that the last inhabitant OF
the place-a solitary fsherman-had been
swept away one wild night long ago, when
the waves broke over the roof of his habita-
ton. At any rate, though the village below
and the great hotels on the cliffs were over.
flowing with summer guests, no one had
sought to utilize this habitation. though the
bows had sgnaled its advantages in rude
placard to this effect. "This hole house TO
iet." The only occupants to-day were the
sea-shells, the drifts of sea-weed, and Babette.
She sat in the doorway on an old boat that
had foated in thither, bottom side up, in
some overflow of the sea, and remained there
ever since. .....
In her hand she held a web of that light,
spider-ike work whereby women love to keep
their active fingers busy, knitting themselves
by fairy thread to tho actual world, while
their thoughts are free to wander airily
whittier they wist. 1854
The girl was looking afar off seaward, where
quetisle, luminous an sun-crowned, dotted
the distance halfway out-idle, pleasant
dIifted away from the cares of the busy main
land and basking dreamily in the rosy light
Babstte sympathized with that island. 1t
seemed to her it would be a gracious thing to
get away from the actual commonplace neces-
sites of life as she had known it; TO dwell
apart in some trance-like solitude from the
tramp and whirl and worry of existence. For
the girl had been hard worker in her time,
as many dreamy. eyed women are, and they
were not altogether idle and cloud-like fancies
that absorbed her as she sat For she was a
business woman, was Babette, and that mo-
ment was revolving the problem of getting O
living. The peach bloom on her cheek, and
the young light in her eyes, did not render
the problem less difficult of solution.
Her school-days at the village academy
were ended-those doubtful yet quiescent days
when, by dint of incessant drudgery as an
under teacher, she had wrung out a sort OF
education for herself, and graduated in flut-
tering white at once and forever out of the
caterpillar state. That pretty excitement,
that brief flash of light on her stormy path,
way, over, she had come back to her old aunt
Margets cabin. But she could not live there
dependent live and die there. It's scanty
fare, its bare floors, its solitude among the
hills, its shelter of wind-swept pines that
climbed the sterile crags and looked down or
the far ocean these things had satisfied hel
once, as it had satisfied her to hunt sea-shell'
along the shore with Cousin Tom.
But Cousin Tom had gone out from the sea
shore to tho great sea and the great worlC
beyond Why should she not do so too
A sharp but not unbindly voice broke ir
upon her reverie. ''Babette Why wha
upon airth Child you'll get your death o
cold, as I've often told you afore, in thi
damp, unwholesome place" '0s
The speakers tall. wiry figure and clear
sunbonnet carried an incisive meaning witt
them, well calculated to put to fight dream
of whatever nature. l. f.,.,.ii-,tli
II haven't been here long, Aunt Marget
said Babette, rousing with a flush from he
reverie. ,-if 14ga.i iioy 55it.F tJ
"Why, I've been looking for you this hou
past, pears to me. Professor PEBBLES ha
been to the house inquirin' arter you, AM
= hes coming agen."
Babctte did hot appear to be exhilarated b.
the information. She sat listless, her foo
playing idly with the dimpling water.
I'm on an .arrant down to the village,
said the busy old woman I" but you can rul
home and tidy up things bit, and dres
yourself" l1'a
I'll can't. / don't want to see him.
La, child, you mustn't be SO bashful
lie wants to see you. So run along and smai
yourself up" f ,at
A school-master and parson were in Aun
Margets eyes two objects Of special reverenct
''But I'm 500 tired" urged Babettt
with some hesitation. sh'
" Tired p repeated the old woman, nc
unkindly. 81 don't know what has com
over young folks nowadays; in my time
took something to tire 'em. Well, chile
you'll feel better when you We had mors'
Of something and dressed yourself Put
that new white dress for once in way, jul
to please Master PEBBLES"
my white dress Why, aunty, you'l
getting extravagant. ] want to save th'
white dress
TIT, tut, child, you ought to be mo-
grateful" 4f3t tt ffetd lH
Grateful Aunt Narget, why should
be grateful to that old snuff taking professor
like him not | will be to him no more
pupil" In her excitement the girls wor'
gathered certain faint foreign accent, al
sLe waved her hand with a gesture signihcai
of utter contempt "Whyf' she repeate
her nostrils dlating. r ft
Aunt Marget, nothing shaken by the wra'
she had excited, said, quietly, "He gave "
that dress tllr te
The flushed face grew as white as the Sc
sand. A gray shadow fell upon 1t, changir
It's fresh young beauty as night-fall chang
tne sea-shore.
She turned away silently, and Aunt Mo
get pursued her crrand along the beach.
That dress with its pretty ruffies, It's dain
folds and ribbons, in which Babette had
once felt young and fresh and lightsome
other girls, and which she had somehow
criGcd to Tom-she must give up that pret
dream now Instead of that she had be
humilated, a recipient Of hateful favors d
aunt was tired of her--her aunt. whose goo
ness she had never doubted, tired OF her, +
her burden, and had accepted the assstar
OF strangers.
II must go away!' said poor Babet
writhing In her stricken pride; but whittier