Vermont watchman and State journal. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1836-1883, 1872-05-15
THE TWO CLERKS.

cant stand it any longer, and l wont, "
cried Mark Streynsham. will throw up
my appointment and try my luck in South
America"
Cuthbert Noble, to whom the remark was
addressed laughed. Z" You had better stick
to the desk as | must do" he said.
Write write, write--rockon, reckon,
reckon-pens and paper, and iukink aud
paper, aud pens-nothing else from morning
till night, sighed Mark. Why, | work in
such a maze that the edgers grow blue, and
| | don't know red ink from black. This fort
nights fresh air and liberty have settled my
mind the prairie life is the life for me- +"
Aud your parents % suggested Cutbbert.
They won't care when the frst brush il,
over shall marry rich girl-say a twenty
thousand-pounder, and they will call me a
lucky dog and forgive my misdemeanors."
Your prospects are brighter than mine, -
/ laughed Cuthbert No rich girl would
have me and if followed my inclination
and escaped from London fog aud gas by day.
/ light, to clear skies and no gas at all, my
mother and sisters would break their hearts -
/ You Sec Noble, you are not so popular
with the ladies as am. You are too grave.
In these days, nothing goes down with them
but chaf, and you are too sensible by half'
dare say you are right, Mark But,
at any rate, enjoy this glorious day and
these mountains more than you for live
in the present moment without wcarying my
mind about desk and prairies"
You are so matter Of fact old fellow,
that you will never make your way in the
world whereas, with my face, talents, and
-impudonce, shall l say 81 am sure to
rise"
$50 be it" said Cuthbert. But just look
ia that carriage winding up the gorge. |
wish | was an artist
Hurrah | congratulate you on having,
once in your life, wished for what you can't
get 81 cried Mark, taking off his hat and wav-
ing it.
Mark Streynsham and Cuthbert Noble were
spending brief holiday by making walking
tour in North Wales As they stood to gaze
a. the carriage that was toiing up steep
road below them, through mountain pass
leading to a PERCEPTIONS ravine, they looked
as free from care as the bird poising in the
blue above. They were surrounded by sun
tipped, heather-clad mountains, and invigo-
rated by breezes that gave them the strength
they sought. Marks face was bright and
Joyous. He had mischievous blue eyes, with
lazy light lurking in their corners, fair,
curly hair, and general expression of coun-
tenance and manners that betokened self.
possession, if not the impudence he himself
suggested. Cuthberts appearance was less
attractive. He was of dark complexion,
broad and somewhat heavy brow, grave eyes,
and reserved manner. His dress was in no
wise remarkable, and, but for the leathern
portmanteau slung across his shoulder and a
sprig of heather in his button-hole, be might
have been on bis way to daily toll before the
desk so much reprobated by his friend.
They watched the carriage till it had wound
out of their sight, then began to descend the
mountain toward the road which il had trav-
eled. They reached it in due course, and
again paused to admire the magnificent view
that lay beneath them: Of a valley through
which wound a rapid river, and gentle slopes
covered with woods and dotted with white
cottages.
a young girl suddenly appeared in the
gorge through which the carriage had passed
aud hastened towards them.
My shepherdess with broad hat and
crook. We have just seen her goats" said
Cuthbert
My twenty thousand FOUNDER in fashion
able costume, said Mark.
As she approached, it was evident that
Mark was nearer the truth than Cuthbert
She turned out to be a young lady in summer
dress of white pique, as it is called, broad
| lat hat and wealth Of flowing golden hair
She might also have been Cutbberts ideal
shepherdess--for the Dolly Vardens of the
age are picturesque sometimes. She address,
ed them at once.
" Our carriage has broken down about a
quarter of mile off Would you be so kind
as to help the coachman. am going for the
blacksmith"
will return with you to the carriage,
said the ready Mark. Cuthbert you can
run for the smith, We passed the forge
about half mile below"
" Oh thank you so much" said the young
lady, glancing at the youths, aud perceiving,
probably, for the first time that they were
gentlemen.
While Cuthbert did as be was bid, and ran
broathessy down the mountain road to pic
turesque and lonely blacksmiths shop at its
base, Mark accompanied the girl on her way
back to the carriage.
" No one hurt, hope, he began. These
break-neck mountain passes would shiyer Cog
and Magog's car, if they ever had one. Why
don't they tunnel the hills 2"
&" Then nobody would admire them" said
the young lady. We are proud of our
mountains"
And no wonder" said Mark. | am
dying to end my days among them, and never
to enter a house again"
They FASTENED on side by side, Mark keep.
ing up an incessant co ersaton till they
reached the carriage.
" You cannot have been to the forge in
this time, Gwendolin," said gentleman com.
ing toward them.
Mark raised his hat, explained matters
and offered his services. A lady with pink
parasol, hat and feather, and an elaborate toi
lot Joined them. The coachman was watching
pair Of frisky horses while they munched
the sweet mountain grass at little distance
The carriage stood perilously on one side
just over precipice.
"The spring is broken 1t is providenta
that it is no worse We shall be glad Of al
help to get the carriage right, for we are
afraid of the horses" said the gentleman, wht
we may as well introduce as Mr.. Madoc til,
lady with pink parasol being bis sister, and
Gwendolin his daughter.
II am frightened to death" said Miss Ma
doc, who did, indeed, look pale as she shel
tered herself from the afternoon sun beneath
the parasol intended to flush with pink tb,
cheeks Of beauty
Nothing could be done until the blacksm mtl
arrived, SO Marx began to make himsel
agreeable. He rarely failed in this, and wa
: soon at home with the strangers. He fount
a sheltered spot for Miss Madoc, where sh
and the pink parasol looked like larg
, . flower among the heather and bracken, an,
talked to her and Gwendolin of London sea
sons and country pleasures. Mr., Madoc wa
less at his ease than Mark and the ladies', 70