Bradford opinion. [volume] (Bradford, Vt.) 1874-1881, 1874-11-07
Harvest Apples.

1uc ictUcr Salu ''COuc, uuu VII
a sigh of relief | laid it upon til
table before me, and looked out int
the dusty streets.
l was q working-woman In th
city of New York. Whether I trim
med Donnets for Madame La Mod,
measured of laces for mademoisell
her daughter, kepts books, rea
proofs, set type, or even wrote ed
torials for the Starry Host, is a mat
ter Of no consequence. Suffice
to say, l was tired In my dream
"babbled of green fields" l long
ed for one long summer vacation Q
freedom and rest. But where shoul'
l go' Like Joanna Gay worthy,
found the world "too full of people.
wanted nature, not men and VIC
men.
At length 1 beth ought me of 1
distant cousin, Hiram Gardner b.!
name, who lived in low, brown
farmhouse away up among th'
Green Mountains; and forthwith
wrote to him, asking if he would re
ceive me as q boarder for three
months. This letter was the an
swer:
"Come right along, Cousin Wini'
fred" he wrote, "and stay as long
as you can make yourself contented.
Not as boarder. though. Thank
God, l am not 20 poor as to feel
obliged to take money ffom my own
kith and kin for q few weeks board
and lodging. My wife and Hope
will be glad to see you," 800
So, in furry of delight, l pack
ed my trunk, telegraphed to Cousin
Hiram, and in two days. time stood
on the plarform of the depot at
Highland watching the receding
train as it thundered down the val
ley.
AS for Hope-little Hope Gard
ner-what shall 1 tell you about
her 7 l had my own ideas about
"country girls;" thought of sun
burn and freckles, coarse hands and
ungainly feet, in that connection.
But one glance at Hope as she stood
in the Pickering shadows Of the
great elm that overhung the low,
wide, roomy house overthrew all
my preconceived opinions. Eyes
that were of the very tint of the
violets 1 loved-=-hair that, guiltless
of crimping-pins, fell in great gold
en- waves below her waist, and there
coiled itself up in a profusion of
tiny curls; +; brow SO fair that you
saw the network Of blue veins at
the temples cheeks softly tinted
with wild-rose bloom ; face of a
delicate oval, redeemed from gentle
ipsipidity by the sweet firmness Of
the well-cut lips, and by eyebrows
and lashes many shades darker than
the hair slight girlish figure, clad
in simple, graceful costume that
would have passed unchallenged
any where. Such was the picture
that greeted my eyes as Cousin Hi.
rams pair Of handsome grays swept
round the corner, and Hope came
forward to meet me.
Before many weeks had passed I
began to discover the trail of the
serpent in my newly found Eden.
l had thought my cousin Hiram one
of the most favored of mortals
but Mordecai sat as the kings gate,
and the soul of Haman was trou-
bled. ..,....
1t was the old, old story-older
than the days of the Montagues and
Capulets-almost as old as the days
of Adam and Eve. There had been
first ambitions and rivalries, then
harsh words and bitter recrimina-
tions, hatreds and revenges. Now
all had settled down into a deep
and silent enmity. Hiram Gard
ner and Thomas Remington lived
upon adjoining farms; could have
clasped hands across the narrow
aisle as they sat in their pews on
met each other daily in
the streets, at the post-office, in the
market-place. But they never
spoke, never recognized each other
by glance or sign. Yet they were
both good men-men who should
have loved each other. Perhaps
deep down in either heart there was
a regret for the past, longing for
reconciliation. Perhaps if either
one had been unfortunate or in dis
tress, the other might have been
willing to be the first to bury the