National opinion. [volume] (Bradford, Vt.) 1865-1874, 1872-11-08
BABETTE.

Babettc sat In the doorway Of the old hut
dreaming Her clumsy shoes were fiunl
aside her bare feet touched the water tha
rippled up to the very door
"a crazy old place, the country peopl,
called it and there certainly was a wild
0phelia-likc grace about the ruinous building
crowned with tufts of wiry wind d-bown gras
that spring up through the chinks Of III,
roof md in the crannies Of the decayed win.
dow sills, caught here and there the sunlight
aud lent changeful charm to the desOatc
spot.
Far back and beyond it stretched the sea-
beach the long sand levels, over which at
tide rising 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 fisherman been
swept away one wild night long ago. when
the waves broke over the roof OF his habta-
tlon 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
boys had signaled its advantages In a rude
placard TO this effect This hole house to
let The only occupants to-day we're the
seashells, the drifts of sea-weed, and Babette
She sat in the doorway on an old boat that
had iloated in thither. bottom side up. in
some overflow Of the sea, AID remained there
ever since.
In her hand she held web OF that light
spider-like work whereby women love to keep
their active fingers busy, knitting themselves
by n fairy thread to the actual world, while
their thoughts are free to wander airily
whittier they wist
The girl was looking afar off seaward where
a quiet isle, luminous an sun-crowned, dotted
the distance halfway out-idle, pleasant,
drifted away from the cares Of the busy main
land, and basking dreamily in the rosy light.
Babotte sympathized with that island. 1t
seemed to her it would be gracious thing to
get away from the actual commonplace neces-
stiles of life as she had knownit To dwell
apart in some trance. like solitude from the
tramp and whill 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
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 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
Marget's 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 on
the far oceanthese things had satisfied her
once, as it had satisfied her to hunt sea shells
along the shore with Cousin Tom.
But Cousin Tom had gone out from the sea.
shore to the great sea and the great world
beyond Why should she not do so too
A sharp but not unkindly voice broke in
upon her reverie. Babette Why what
upon airth Child you'll get your death o
cold, as I've often told you afore, in this
damp, unwhoesome place
The speakers tall. wiry figure and clean |
sunbonnet carried an incisve meaning with |
them, well calculated to put to flight dreams |
Of whatever nature.
II haven't been here long, Aunt Marget,"
said Babette, rousing with flush from her
reverie.
"Why I've been looking for you this hour
past, pears to me. Professor PEBBLES has
been TO the house inquirin' arter you, and |
he's coming agen"
Babette did not appear to be exhlarated by /
the information She sat listless, her foot |
playing idly with the dimpling water.
"Pm on an arrant down to the village"
said the busy old woman; Z" but you can run
home and tidy up things bit, and dress
yourself.
"I-I can't don't want to see him"
"La, child, you mustn't be so bashful
L. c., al
yourself up"
A school l-master and parson were in Aunt
Marget's eyes two objects of special reverence.
" But I'm $3.50 tired" urged Babette,
with some hesitation.
"1ired ~ repeated the old woman not
~ don't know what has come
over young folks now-a-days; in my time il
took something to tire en- Well child,
you'll feel better when you've had q morsel
Of something, and dressed yourself. Put on
that new white dress for once in way, just
to please Master PEBBLES"
"My white dress! Why, aunty, you're
getting extravagant. l want to save that
white dress"
Tut, tut, child, you ought to be more
grateful
Grateful Aunt Marget, why should l
be grateful to that old snuff taking professor
ike MIN not. i VIII DC 10 MIN no more a
pupil" In her excitement the girls words
gathered certain faint foreign accent, and
Fhc waved her hand with gesture significant {
IF utter contempt. ''Why2' she repeated,
her nostrils dilating Il
Aunt Marget, nothing shaken by the wrath
'he had excited, said, quietly, 'He gave you !
hat dress" q
The flushed face grew as white as the sea- ,
and. gray shadow fell upon it, changing
is fresh young beauty as night-fall changes
he sea-shore. IL
She turned away silently, and Aunt Mar !
ret pursued her errand along the beach.
That dress with its pretty ruffies, its dainty
olds and ribbons. in which Babette had for
'nce felt young and fresh and lightsome as
,ther girls, and which she had somehow as
ribbed to Tom-she must give up that pretty
lream now Instead of that she had been
,umiliated, recipient Of hateful favors. Her
Iunt was tired of her-her aunt. whose good
hess she had never doubted, tired of her, felt
,er burden, and had accepted the assistance
u strangers. Ii
II must 20 away!'' said Poor Babette, /,
rrithing in her stricken pride; but whithery'