South Branch intelligencer. [volume] (Romney, Va. [W. Va.]) 1830-1896, 1873-06-27
The Husbands Gift.
BY AMY RANDOLPH

lures sweetest words the lilac bushes
were all purple with spiked plume., aud
every meadow slope was dressed in the
cloth OF gold OF dandelion blooms.
Crocus Cotta,e wore its sweetest aspeci
at that season Of the wear. IL was alwavs
pretty place to look upon, with steep pa
blea, latticed easements, half hidden by the
growth Of climbing roses, aud a little rms.
tic porch; while the tiny lawn, the wind.
ing path to the river, and the cluster of an
clent iinden-trees before the door were all
perfect IN their various ways. 1t was no
wonder that MIR. Aubrey looked compla-
Gently around his small domain, as he
stood on the step buttouing his dog skin
glove.
Florence. Where are you Florence p
Aud then for the first time he saw the
giimmering Of something white beneath
the down-hangng and tent-like boughs of
an old hickory, little way down the slope
OF the hill-his wife's dress.
Mrs. Aubrey was beautiful girl of TWEEN
ty-shree or four, at least ten years younger
than her husband-a hazel eyed blonde.
with coil of good CLEANING auburn hair
arranged, coronet fashion, above her head.
aud cheeks just tinted with the faintest
and most delicate bloom. she looked like
picture, as che sat there in her floating
dress Of white, with the few stray sun.
beams which could penetrate the hickory
ooughs bralding a network of brightness
about her graceful head.
'O! said Mr.. Aubrey. half contemp,u.
ously, as he observed the pretty rustic easel
before her, and the color boxes on the grass
at her side, you are painting, eh?
Florence crimsoDed slightly.
Il am trying to sketch little said she.
Mr.. Aubrey came close to her and sur
veyed the canvas critically over her shout.
der.
Pretty WE'LL said he-pretty we'll, for
beginner Bat it s all time and trouble
thrown away, my dear
'Whyr
'Ob,-because. A woman was never
born an artist
Look at Rosa Bonhcur,' re;orted Mrs.
Aubrey, biting her lip.
That's no illustration at all, my dear,
Rosa BOnheur was halfa man. There was
nothing feminine or worthy about her And
shis picture of yours, with the apple bios
SONS and the spring shower coming up
from the west, it's all very pretty and that
sort OF thing but it possesses no merit as
work OF ert.'
but tell me aoby, Joseph
va, well-you sec, there's general
weakness in the make up-l lack of indi.
VIdunlity in the details You are capital
at pie or pudding, Florence, and you are
the only woman | ever knew who could
mix dressing for lobster salad like a man.
but you've mistaken your vocation when
you try to turn artist
do you object to it, Joseph 2 said Flo
renee, in a stiAed voice.
Object, my dear ! No; not the least in
the world. Ga the contrary, I'm very
glad if you can amuse yourself in that
way during my absence. Good by my
dear. I'll try to be back in the five O'Clock
train
Florence Aubrey beaved a sigh as she
looked after her husbands trim draper
figure striding across the lawn and losing
itself in winding shrubbery of lilacs and
guelder-roses
'And he has quite forgotten that it is
the second anniversary Of our wedding
day, she murmured to herself.
Even as Mr.. Aubrey hurried down the
slope 10 the direction of the railway sta
tiop, toward which the early train was al.
ready steamng, he was chucklng to him.
self the same sentiment, although in quite
different spirit.
Shes entirely forgotten about this be.
ing our wedding-day. shall surprise her
capitally Hl, ha, ha Women never do
remember things. 1t takes a mans mem.
Dry.
Mr. Aubrey did not quito keep his word.
Tie came up from the city an hour earlier
than the probable time he had mentioned
to his wife, with Prodigous paper package
under his arm.
Florence met him at the door.
Joseph =
'Yes, my dear, here I am, , said he, set
ting down the package, and vipiog the
drops Of Precipitation from bis brow
y have just finished set Of handker
chiefs with your monogram dear said
Florence, smiling and colorioq. you bad
forgotten that to-day was the anniversary
Of our W ddiog-day ?
NO, my dear, I hadn't said Mr.. An.
brey, oomplaceotly. Here's my presep,
to you
And he commenced unfyinp The multi.
iudluous strings and packages that f,steD.
ed the treasure, while Mrs Aubrey looked
eagerly on.
What is IT, Joseph % tell pe she
cried
It's picture, Florence, I've seen II on
exhibition 10 Stsrke & Meriam's windows.
these two or three weeks. And thought
OF you tbe minute saw it, and made M
my mind 10 get it for your wedding gift