The Manchester journal. [volume] (Manchester, Vt.) 1861-current, 1872-12-26

Z IA FitheA Der way across t3le bINAd Atta
that lay between her house aud tbo mill
The sineam was 3 winding one, and d
she placed her tiny foot on The dr.t sieo
ping stone, She saw a straw hat on th,
F. grass which she knew we'll
I How is Miss Lane this evening said
llonghton, lazlly, from beneath MAMA
nita bush, where be had been enjoying
book aud a pipe
Wei, thank sou. How is Mr., Hough,
ton replied GYPSY. sbyly.
Warm, bat not uncomfortable Are
you going TO the mill3
Yes; have q letter that has iust come
for father.
MAY accompany yous
Certainly, II you choose.
Houghton put on his hat and helped
Gypsy across the brook.
bad a letter from New York few
days ago, said be, afler they had left The
first bend OF The river behind
A pleasant one2
Well, although IN one sense It brought
good news, still can hardly call il a
pleasant letter
They walked on, aud Gypsy swung her
hat pensively, longing with a woman's
curiosity, to bear more about the New
York letter.
! am going to leave Russian Bar, said
Honghlon, abruptly,
Indeed: how eoonY
| don't know yet; possibly within a
week.
The hat was swayed from side 20 side
with increased energy.
DO YOU care much, Miss Lane? This
with an earnest look into the hazel ewes
that were kept steadily bent on the parch.
ed grass beneath her feet.
Yes, of course we shall be sorry to lose
you, returned Gypsy, evasivcly.
If como back in few months with
something for my future wife, shall | see
this ring on her finger? whispered
Houghton, capturing the little hand that
held the hat, and slipping pearl ring on
the delicate finger.
Gypsy said nothing; but her eyes
turned for a moment on the schoomas-
ter's earnest face, and in the next her
soft check was resting on his shoulder.
Russian Bar, TO man, turned out to
bid Philip Iloughlou God speed on the
morning ne took his place by the driver,
who one year before bad set him down at
Perkins Hotel.
They knew he was on his way to New
York, and that he had been left some
money, and the gossips more than sus-
)ected that there was something between
iypsy Lane and their favorite. At all
vents her eyes were red for week after
lis departure.
winter nad come and the river was
woIcn and rapid, and many lofty tree
rom the pine forest had found its way to
he hearths at Russian Bar. One delici-
ms morning, crisp and cold, after a
lights rain, the stage passed by the large
White oak, and splashed with mud, halted
'efore Perkins Hotel. 1t had been all
light on the way, for the roads were
cry heavy.
The WORTHY proprietor Of that excellent
ouse was in the act of tossing his first
ocktaiI, when hearty hand was laid on
is shoulder, and Philip Houghton shout.
d:
Perkins, old boy, how are you? Il
The landlord returned the shake hands,
ived behind the bar, and had a second
ocktail mixed in a moment. And now.
nd he, as he pledged the ex-schoomas. {
II, when will the wedding take place?
Six weeks aiterwaEl the old mill was
ung with evergreen wreaths, and 0
rand festival was held at Russian Bar. ,
ypsy Lane was lovely bride: and ,
hen Iloughton took charge of the mill s
nd invested all his New York money in O
le village and was admitted to practice G
the courts everything seemed to take
esh start Through all, his warmest ,
1d most devoted friend was Sam Sey- =,
our, once the terror Of Russian Bar a
hoolmasters, and now the holder of an o
nportant position. In