Green-Mountain freeman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1844-1884, 1872-06-12
BaShful Boots.

Booth" answered the child. ITS Mary
Cumru."
was just eighteen, and, after having
taken my degree in the ime-honored Uni
versity of Pennsylvania, was making a
pedestrian tour through the eastern coun-
ties of my native State For several
hours had been traversing a wild, wood
ed region that the inhabitants called the
forests and which stretches for nearly
thirty miles, from the northeast to the
Southwest, back TO the Blue Ridge be-
tween Whitby and Heidelberg.
Suddenly there rose before me, over
the crest ola low hill, the chimney and a
roof of time worn stone farm house.
The fences were moss-grOwn; the woods
around were bushy and wild lush grass
grew in the meadows, and the whole air
fragrant with the scent of water-fowers
that bloomed in the little brook near BY.
Crossing the field between me and the
house, and advancing in my direction, was
little girl. She wore az old sunbonnet
and loose sack. and carried an earthen-
ware pitcher in her hand yet in spite of
these comparatively coarse accessories
there was bright intelligent look in her
eyes and an air almost OF refinement in
her face Observing a strangers She stop
ped shyly, with her hnger in her mouth.
1t was then l addressed her.
We soon managed to get quite well ac-
quainted Whjtby, she told me, was just
over the mountain, not more than an hour 5
walk She lived with her maternal uncle,
who owned the farm house, which had
been her grandiathers and her great
grandfather before. Papa was a minister,
she said We lived in the city till be AMI
mamma died.
l was about to walk on, when she asked
me shyly, if | wouldn't ike q drink Of
milk. She was going to the spring house
she added. | assented most gladly, ald
she tripped before me. fitting along like
a free happy bird.
Have you ever, my dear reader. seen a
real old fashioned Pennsylvania spring
house, \ one stored, one r1omel stone
edifce, built over natural spring, gen
orally shaded by a weeping willow, or
some ancient forest tree, and ioorei with
birch aud stone Ny little hostess, kneel-
ing down, dipped some milk up from
y
which made the circuit of the spring house
inside. Never. before or since, have l had
q draught so delicious.
Afterward | sat down on the low, turfy
bank outside and chatted with my little
friend
&" Do you know, She said, earnestly, .' [
ike country better than town? You hear
the birds at daybreak; you cln hunt tor
wild flowers, On such vioets, and blue
bells and quaker ladies as we have here.
And buttercups, too, hope
les, yes, buttercups. Do you know
how to tell if you ike butter? She asked.
gleefully.
"Don'tI, You hold the butter,up to
your chin"
She clapped her hands, aud laughing,
said, How DO you know that
Oh l know more than you think, |
answered, coolly, but feeling young mans
pride, nevertheless, in her admiration
:. Can you tell me, for instance, what is
this
l had be u, as my habit was, pok ing
with my stick into the turf, and now l
had loosened heavy, rusty looking bit Of
stone, which rolled at my feet.
/" No. she said with some contempt. d"
don't care for dirty rocks | care for
flowers and trees.
- But this dirty bit Of rock, Ianswered,
ais hematitic ore, quite willing to show off
my geological knowledge, and forgettingthat
she would be wholly ignorant Of the mat
ter. " If there's vein Of it on your un-
ces farm it will make his fortune. [
shouldn't wonder if there was" | added
- This ore is always found in just such To-
calities, where the trapdykes," | waved
my stick in the direction Of the ragged
knife edged hill that rose in front, .. break
through the sandstones. Why, it's as good
as a gold mine, my dear
a gold mine Her eyes were bigger
than ever now.
" Yes as good as gold mine If the
farm was mine, I'd sink shafts at once.
Is your uncle at home p
" No. He has gone to Whitby."
We'll, then, mind you tell him when he
comes home tonight 1t will do no harm,
at any rate" As l spoke | rose to 90.
She looked down and put her finger to
her mouth again. At last with a sly
blush she said
Would you rnind writing it down? the
big word, mean
"Oh the name of the ore. Certainly no"
[ said, laughing. L tore a leaf from my
memorandum book as l spoke and wro te
the word as she requested.
" Do you often come this way 2? " asked
she bashfully, as offered my hand and said
good bye.
." l was never here before, little one,> and
don't know that | shall ever come again.
Her face fell.
" But should like to come. will try
next summer" added.
She Frightened up again.
"Oh do come" she cried. g Do you
know l like you-ever so much p
When | reached the turn Of the wood.
at the top of the hill above, l stopped to
look back. My little acquaintance stood
just where | had left her, gazing wistfuly
after me. took off nay hat, she courte-
sled, and than plunged into the forest.
That night at Whitby had occasion
for my pencil-case, thin, golden one, with
my name craven on it. could not find
it any where. Where have L left it? [
had quite forgotten that l had used it in
the spring house, and might have dropped
it there.
| never returned to the old farm house.
The next winter went abroard, for | had
a competent fortune, and ! wished to flo.