The Republican journal. [volume] (Belfast, Me.) 1829-current, 1873-01-09

OF people; but she always tell back on
the soft cushion of the thought that most
folks could not understand Ned.
AS for Bessie, she had her turn equally
at petting and spelling, but these had not
turned the sweet cream Of her nature.
She had one that, like doves,
FLEW straightway to the light"
She, too, was an only and idolized
chld-her father a wealthy merchant, who
had recently purchased summer resi-
dence at Nutlands, a little drowsy village
in green lap of the hills, less than
twenty miles from where an arm OF the
sea pushed inland on the Massachusetts
coast.
Here, Ned Ashleigh had come on a visit
to his connection, 10 hunt and ride and
sail; in short to enjoy himself to the top
of his bent. and, was going to say, to
tirt with Bessie Drew; but that would
not be just true, although the two were
constantly together, indoors and out, in
walks and drives, reading poetry and bits
of philosophy such sparkle and fire of
tests, striking off the brighter from the
grave moods which scarcely seemed to be-
long to their youth but all this certainly
was not flirting.
btSSIt Drew lulIItu stHtl lOohCI az lIIt
boy who had inspired Ned's criticism on
creation and its author.
The creature had risen now, and was
staring at the two. out OF pair Of big j.,
lightish eyes, as odd and unattractive a
human bipcd as you can we'll imagine,
with his large mouth wide open, his mop
of red-brlck hair, and his skin tanned to a
yellowsh brown.
RoC To 1arpb md fhon @
ashamed Of herself for the impulse. Ned
Ashlegh turned and looked too, and the
eyes of the three met. What an immense
contrast there was between the elegant,
high-bred young man and woman and the
! big lumpish figure in its rags on the grass
| What II different world this planet is, to
the people who inhabit it, and who live so
near that they iostle each other, breathe
| the same ar-the same ray of sunshine
| striking across them, and the same kindly
earth opening, at last, to take them all in
to its brown, still warmth, with hush for
| all the pains and heartaches, softer than q
mothers
"He is 4 text for a sermon, isn't he p'
asked Ned, lowering his voice little-he
| had been speaking in rather Il raised one.
"Yes, y powerful one Have YOU any
money with you Ned 2"
The Young man drew out his pocket
| book. He was always generous-when
he thought of it.
GLOW much will you have ?"
| ''Whatever is convenient-a dollar at
most"
| ''Therc are two of them, placing the
note in her hand.'
Bessie Drew went back over the stile
| 10 fbn how 1yin1r tho and NaI
| leaning with graceful Incidence on the
stone wall, watched the two.
| "What is your name ?" asked the girl,
and her voice was soft and sweet-such a
vision OF grace and loveliness might have
stepped out Of the far purple vapors of
the sunset. The boy gazed at her with
dropped under lip and amazed eyes ;
whatever imagination. whatever aesthetic
sense was in him, the vision of that girl
must appeal to them.
| For few moments the boy seemed
| quite too dazed to reply to her question ;
when, however, he had gathered his scat
tered wits, the answer was to the point
| sDicl Ilackett"
''Well, Dick, what are you doing here?"
| 81 came out to look tor work.
Not q bad voice. either, though it was
| a little grutf. Catching flies, however, by
| q horse trough in the heat Of a summer
| afternoon, was hardly the likelest way for
Dick Hackctt to succeed in his quest. That
struck Bessie, and Ned too, probably,
| leaning against the stone wall and EN- Joy
| ing this scene in his lazy, amused way.
| 'Herc is some money for you, Dick, to
help YOU along until YOU find the work. If
| you will take my advice you will set about
| doing that at once" and she pressed the
note into the soiled paw which, it may
| reasonably be suspected had never held
such n sum before.
" Thank you, ma'am," answered the
! boy, staring at the glver and then at the
money.
'Good bye" said Bessie, with smile
and graclousness that would have 1asci-
| mated any of her cavaliers.
To her surprise the boy rose up. He
| must have had some native instinct Of po-
| liteness at bottom, for he made her a bow,
| SO awkward that it was really grotesque.
''Good bye, ma'am," he said.
Ned Asheigh atterward told Bessie
| Drew he would have given a ten dollar
bill to have indulged in n hearty guffaw
at that precise moment, but he was gen
| tleman-at least so much of one that not
Il muscle of his face moved.
SO the two went down through the pas
| lures, in their youth and grace, like be-
| ings from another sphere and lett the boy
| watching them by the horse trough, in the
sunset, with his lips apart, and some
thought awake in the big, light eyes un-
der the red brick hair
| Dick Hackett's story can be told in
few words; pititul as it is. it is common
enough:
His father was drowned at sea before
the boy could remember. His mother
slipped out of life p little later, and left
the child homeless and friendess in great
city. In one way and another he had
managed to mine and worm his way up
into his fifteenth year. 1t was the life of
% boy down among the lowest strata of
humanity in the city-blacking boots, sell
ing newspapers, clearing pavements-do-
ing anything to keep the soul God gave
him in some kind of body.
Dick Hackett had taken a strange no.
ton to go off into the country this summer
and try his luck among the farmers. 1t
was rather slngular-tor hot sidewalks,
and the roar and crowd of great cities,
have wonderful attraction for his class :;
but the thought of great shadowy trees,
|
old haunts, and so, doing chores for the
farmers, and taking his pay out mostly in
meals, and lodgings in barn lofts. he had
made his way out to Nutland, still in quest
of work.
Dick Hackctt had heard every word of
Ned Ashleigh's speech that atternoon-the
boy had quick senses of sight and sound.
Its meanings, too, had penetrated to
that slow brain of his. He could not, for
his life, have put them in language but
they kept working and working in the
silence, as seeds quicken in the dark and
stiffness of the mould-seeds scattered by
swift winds or careless hands.
The vaporous purples of sunset had
paled and the dews were falling before the
boy gathered up his big bundle of over
grown limbs from the grass by the horse
trough. There are hours in some human
lives which are like great pivots, on which
all our destinies turn. Such an hour had
come now to Dick Hackett by the horse
trough. He knew what his past had been,
and that the young man crossing the stile