Connecticut western news., 1873-01-10
WORK:
or, CHRISTIE'S EXPERIMENT.

 or, CHRISTIE'S EXPERIMENT.
 By LOUISA M ALoorT, :; Author Qf "Lius Women,' "old Fashioned
 z. Girl, Little Men," ac,, etc.
 '-.: % CHAPTER I.
 '--. CHRISTIE.
 A UNIT .BETSEY, there's going to be -A new Declaration of Independence.
 " Bless and save us, what do you mean, child?" And the startled old lady precipi- tated a pie into the oven with destructive haste"
 "I mean that, being of age, I am going to take care of myself, and not be burden any longer. Uncle wishes me out of the way thinks ought to- go, and, sooner or later, will tell me so I don't intend to wait for that, but like the people in fairy tales, travel away into the world and seek my for tune. know I can find it,
 Christie emphasized her speech by ener- getic demonstrations in the bread-trOugh, kneading the dough as if it was her destiny, and she was shaping it to suit herself; while Aunt Betsey stood listening, with uplifted pie-fork, and as much astonishment as .her placid face was capable of expressing. As the giSl patised, with decided thump, the old lady exclaimed:
 "What crazy idee you got into your head now?"
 "A very sane and sensible one, that's got to be worked out, so please listen to it, maam Tve had it a good while. I've thought it over thoroughly, and I'm sure it's the right thin@ for me to do. I'm old enough to take care of myself; and if I'd been Q boy, should have been told. to do it long ago. I hate to be de- pendent, and now there's no need of it :; can't bear it any longer. If you were poor, I would not leave you, or never forget how kind yo1 have been to me. l am burden to him, and must go where can take care of myself. I can't be happy till do, for there's nothing here for me. I'm sick of this dull town, whore don't find any friends to help me as I want to be helped, or any work that can do well so let me go, Aunty, and find my place, whatever it is.'
 "But do need you, deary. and you mustn't think Uncle don't like you. He does only he don't show it, and when your odd ways fret | him, he amt pleasant, I know. I don't see why you can't be contented; I've lived here some, or the folks unneis shborly," and Aunt Betsey looked perplexed by the new idea. ssYou and i are very different, ma'am. | There was moEe yeast put into my composition, ! I guess, and after standing quiet ina warn | corner so long, begin to ferment, and ou9h' to be kneaaed up in time, so that may turn | out a wholesome loaf. You can't do thN SC 1 let me go where it can be done, else shall turn sour and good for nothing. Boes that make l the matter any clearer And Christie's seri- 
 went from her to the niceIymolded loaf offered l as an illustration.
 q see what you mean, Kitty but never 1 thought ont before. You be better rig that me; though, let me tell you, too much emptins makes bread poor stuff, like bakers trash and | too much working up makes it hard and dry | Now fly around for the big oven is most het l and this cake takes sight of time in tho mIxtn. -
 | Fl aff a devoted lady to the preparation of some compound whicl | seemed to require great nicety of measure ment in it's ingredients; for when she replied Aunt Betsey curlously interlarded her speecl with audible directions to herself from th' receipt-book before her.
 "I aint no right to keep you, dear, of yol choose to (take pinch of salt>. I'm sorry yol ain't happy, and think you might ef you'd ons
 lbeat. eggs six yolks and whites togeether) cups of sugarl, only speak to Uncle, and of h. says "a squeeze of fresh lemon), go, my dear and take my bressin' with you (not forgettin to cover with piece of paper1."
 Chnstie's laugh echoed through the kitchen and the old lady smiled benignly, quite uncon scious of the cause of the girls merriment.
 "I shall ask Uncle tonight, and I know h
 won't object Then shall write to see if Mrs
 Flint has a room for me. where can stay till
 Tn the world and Pm not afraid of 1t; so you
 soon hear good news of ame. Don't look sad
 for you know never could forget you, even
 I should become the greatest lady in the land.
 And Christie left the prints of two foury bu 'affectionate hands on the old lady's shoulders
 as she the wrinlAed face that had neve
 worn a frown to her.
 Full of hopeful fancies, Christie's salted tn
 pans and buttered the dough in pleasant fol getfulness of all mundane affairs, and the u dicrous dismay of Aunt Betsey, who followo
 her about rectifVing hes mistakes, aud watcl , ing over her as if this sudden absence of min
 had reused suspicious of her sanity.
 ''Uncle, I want to go away, and get my ow living, if you please" was Christes abrur
 beginning, as they sat around the evenin fire.
 "Hey! what's that?" said Uncle Enos rous
 ing from the doZe he was enjoying, with car dle in perilous proximity to his newspaper an his nose
 Christie repeated her request, and was muc
 relieved when, after meditative stare, the ol man briefly answered:
 "Wal, go ahead"
 , "I was afraid you might think it rash or sill 'sI think it's the best thing you could dc; ar like your good sense s in p9q,pposin' ont.
 "Soons ever youlike. Don't poster me abo, , it till you're ready; then I'll give you lit suthing to start off with" And Uncle En' returned to ssThe Farmers Friend" as if ca
 tie were more interesting than kindred. Christie was accustomed to his curt speed and careless manner-had expected nothir 7 more cordial; and, turning to her aunt, sai rather bitterly:
 "Didn't tell you he'd be glad to have n 20? No matterl When I've done somethir to be proud of, he will be as glad to see me hae l again.n Then her voice changed, her eyes Xii T dled, and the firm lips softened with snhl , "Yes, I'll try my experiment.: then I'll g rich; found home for girls like myself; q better still, be a Mrs. Fry, Florence Night 3 gale, or"
 f "How are you ont for stockings, dear2' Christie's castles in the air vanished at u prosaic question; but, after blank look, sl answered pleasantly:
 9 "Thank you for bringing me down to my fe again, when was soaring away too far and t' 7 fast. I'm poorly off, ma'am but if you a :. knitting these for me, shall certainly start ( a firm foundation" And, leaning on Au = Betsy's knee, she patiently discussed the war e robe question from hose to head-gear. f. "Don't you think you could be contented al V way, Christie, eff I make the work lighter, al Il leave you more time for your books and things I asked the cid lady, 10th to lose the one youtl l. ful clement ill her quiet life. n "No, ma'am, for l can't find what wa Y here," was the decided answer. "What do YOU want. child ?" s s"Iook in the fire, and I'll try to show you
 The old lady obediently turned her spectacl
 that way, and Christie said in tone half E
 rious, half playful:
 ,- "Do you see those two logs? We'll, that o n smouldering dismally away in the corner ). singing is what want my life to be-" y Bless me, what an ideel They are both e burnin' where they are put, and both will e ashes tomorrow so what difference does ,- maker"
 7- Christie smiled at the literal old lady; b e following the fancy that pleased her, she add l, earnestly:
 o. q know the end is the same but it do s make a difference how they turn to ashes, al 0 how I spend my life. That log, with it's O du1l snOt of fire gives neit4ler l3e nor warmt 'f but lies sizzling despondently among the ci d ders. But the other glows from end to end wi l. cheerful little flames that go singing up t 7, chimney with pleasant sound. Its light If Il Il tho room and shines out into the dark; 1t warmth draws us nearer, making the hear e tho tosest place in the house, and we shall " miss the friendly blaze when it dies. Yes" S n n added, as if to herself, "I hope my life may