Orleans County monitor. [volume] (Barton, Vt.) 1872-1953, 1872-02-19
a Shoemaker.

The rest of the brothers -stalwart
Jem and sturdy Jack, and the young
grave Eben-were out in the summer
cornfelds, hard at work. Ira, the third
of the old farmers sons, sat on bench
in the far end of the porch, making
shoes.
The patriarch of the tribe Of Harlows,
an unlettered man, who might have come
of race of giants, and whose other sons
were all like him. saw no wiser plan be-
fore him than to apprentice his one
weakling to the one shoemaker; and
now, the shoemaker being dead, Ira held
his place in the village, worked at his
trade, and between times found it posi-
BILE to study as few college youths ever
do, and to read-so his fond mother de-
clared- everything. Itwas no common
place head or prosaic face over which
the trembling of the bean vines fell, and
no trade, or calling in life, could have
made it so. Being genius, this man
should have repined over his fate, but
he did not. The last and waxed ends
gave him independence, and in that ne
reioiced. Perhaps some hope beckoned
him onward-perhaps some dreams were
dreampt upon that cobbler's bench which
might be realized in time. Now, as he
bent oven his last, Miss Lille Wharton,
drawing rein at the gate beyond, thought
to herself that any one with black eyes
and golden hair and dimple in the
chin must be beautiful ; wondered why,
looking for this ideal face in the parlors
of Fifth Avenue, at Newport and Sara
toga, and in her own we'll bred country
circle, she had never met it until year
before, she came to this porch to be
measured for pair Of slippers, heard
the thud of a crutch, always a trying
thing to her nerves, because it spoke of
pain and distortion and other disagreed
BILE things, and saw the face she had
dreampt of until she was three and twen-
ty, but had never before set eyes upon,
save in picture in the Louvre.
She herself was bright brunette,
with carmine cheeks, and in each Of
which a diamond seemed imprisoned
She looked ''a creature not too fair and
good for human natures daily food, "
but certainly one who knew nothing of
human natures toll and pain, of poverty
or grief She was an orphan, it is true,
but her parents died before she was old
enough to know them, and she had been
petted and befattered all her life, as
heiresses are wont to be, when they are
as beautiful as Lille Wharton.
She took her unseen survey of her
ideal face for a moment, and then called
out across the fence:
care you too deep in your brown
study to think of shoes, Mr.. Harlowe,
or may 1 come in and be measured ?
Sit still; you see am off Dame burden
already; she is gentle as pet lamb
n What day this is to run wild in =
; Were it always such weather, | think
we never should have houses built; only
perhaps, a vine covered porch or so, like
this we're under. Put bean vine il
your next verses, will you? They art
SO beautiful, and poets always neglec
them"
"All vines are beautiful, l think,
said Ira, drawing a chair forward fo
i the lady. 81 never see one but | thinl
= - of woman. It's hackneyed compari
+ son, | know, but good one none tn
g less-the vine graceful, gentle VIC
- man; the oak stalwart man to whor
- she clings. See, our vines are doing
10 10 since they have climbed to the top Q
" the trellis. They hang upon the lon
i oak branch there as bride hangs on he
husbands arm. Were | tree | shoul
= like to be that oak, with the vines abou
my branches. Do such fancies come IL
to your head, Miss Wharton %
no He was not ''great stalwart fellow,
~ not an oak among men. The though
came into his mind that vine migf
- never twine about him. | cannot te
+o you what thought was in her eyes tn;
she yelled from him, lest he should rea
it, with her lashes.
"a "They were taking their dinner in IL
field yonder," she said, ''as came pas
do Fattie and Jane were serving it out
thenl-as fresh and bright as roses. Ho
Us, do they manage so much cooking? N
ur cook went away week ago, and l hs
cousins from the city come to see m
and almost killed myself over the di
l." ners. envy the farmers wives the
1st strength and energy. Yet am no fra
creature. [ can ride all day and dan
ms all night, assure you
me "You know nothing of work-a-d
life, Miss Wharton" said Ira. ''T
back is always fitted to bear the burde
| believe, as the heart is" Just |
% tie sigh caught his breath then, as thou
md his heart might have burden on it.
And then he turned to her with a brig
pleasant look. and she answered with
our smile such as, had the truth been kno,
1th she gave to no one else.
au- And the two fell a talking-as th
always did when they were togeth
though only the matter Of shoes ma
the those meetings poetry and mu
can and new books and of the thoughts Il
last grew from them. No gentleman of
ent, Miss Wharton's set pleased her in 81
the talk as this shoemaker did.
At last Miss Wharton rode off on
pony. She smiled until she was out
Ter, sight. Then she grew grave. 'P
fellow p she said, poor dear fello
But then he is only shoemaker
en- Meanwhile the gentleman who h
Y. pened to make shoes said to him
A much the same thing; babe himself
was member it carefully, and remember ;
wed the crutch at his side, ON which, as
lille setting sun fell aslant over the &C
was fields, he swung himself down to S
king dy bit of woodland beside the riv
Eels brink, where he lay waist deep in
ac- long grass, and watched the shad
ould lengthen.
etter "a rich woman should never be VIC
IN by poor man. he said, not bite