Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1874-07-03

was happy with those OF her nuSDaHu' lhe
boy had died at school, but the girls had
grown to womanhood, aud Jessie, PhiPs
little favorite, was reported to be beautiful.
How clear the atmosphere seemed to
Phil Since he had left Syria he had found
no such vivid sunshine. One could see for
miles and miles-he almost thought he
could discern the spikes in the old Mason
fesce. Phil found be was getting in the
habit of wondering about the people yon-
der, and be determined TO cure that at once.
He would go see his old friend Clara and
the girls.
SO cutting a sturdy slip from one of his
own hickory saplings, he resolved TO walk
over 10 the old place and see what fifteen
years had done by the way. One land
mark after another was passed. Phil be-
gan TO think that either the world had stood
quite still, or that time had dealt very ten
derly with this bit of land, oveI which,
years sAgone, he bad travelled so joyously.
Yonder comes another pedestrian. She
Is n woman, tall and graceful, but her step
Is slow, and there Is a sadness about her fig
ure, somehow, that frets Phil IL seems to
jar with the glad, bright landscape about
him. In the distance he can see that she is
pale too, and, alas yes, she is no longer
young. But from out a neighboring copse
there springs another figure, and catches
up with the tall pale lady. Her hands are
full OF wild flowers. Phil can see the glow
on her cheek and now he is close enough
to find that this one is young and beautiful,
aud that her presence is in tone with the
sweet summer day.
With the slight courteous inclination that
is exchanged on a country road between
strangers, Phil passes on, but is stopped
suddenly by voice that is strangely, sad
| ly, wonderfully familiar.
at is he" said the tall pale lady 81 am
certain Of it 4; but as he has forgotten me,
let us go on, JESSIE"
~ knew your voice, Clara" cried Phil,
"but had forgotten your face" Then he
| joined them and they walked on home
ward. He talked TO his old favorite, little
Jessie Mason, now a woman, winsome,
bright, and lovely. He told her how little
changed he had found the neighborhood
about his old home, aud what a delight it
was to him.
"She won't have tree cut down or a new
one planted, and if even one OF the old
rusty spikes in our old ugly fence gives
way, she has another one in its place I'M
medately.
Phil looked over at Clara. How strange
it was to see her so changed, and every
thing else so familiar! He felt a keen pang
when he found himself within the Mason
inclosure. 1t seemed to him as il he had
been dead a long time, and his spirit had
suddenly taken a fancy to stalk about the
old torture place.
But this wore away after visit or two,
and Phil made many visits there. Clara
was not very strong, and the younger
daughter was away; but Jessie was al
ways ready to walk or drive or ride with
Phil. He declared that he must make pill
grimages to all the favorite hooks OF his
boyhood; that he had neglected them for
foreign shrines, and must make amends.
Weeks merged into months, and sum-
mer was on the wane, when at last Phil
made up his mind to wander abroad nc
more, but to settle down under his native
sky, and marry, and be happy reasonably
happy, not madly or rapturously; that was
gone with the past. But why should ev-
cry thing be lost reasoned Phil.
Here was Jessie, this sweet little wood
land flower; she would make yonder will.
derness to bloom and blossom a,
the rose. She was bright, loving, win
some, in form and feature, young, very
young; but that mattered little, so long a.
this time the years were on the right side.
: Jessie was fond OF him evidently-Phi
felt certain OF thst-and would in time
: smooth all these creases out OF his life
They would be happy, reasonably happy
without doubt. He would cherish he
with that fostering care that is born of ma
ture and deliberative love-not that mad
unreasoning idolatry that yonder pale ma
\ tron had so ruthlessly squandered.
Phil began to feel that he held the futur
In his own hands, and was Teverently gla
d and thankful for the privilege thus hel
u out TO him.
lie resolved to grasp ii, aud have it safe q
once and forever.
1t was only the other day they had bee
9 overtaken by a storm, and Jessie in th
drive homeward, crept close to Phil. II
B. sheltered her for many a mile, holdn
= tight aud warm about her the carriage wral
l What mortal man could hold this winson
u creature TO his heart and not feel electr
IT fed, for the time being, at least, with pos
y tive joyf Phil felt the dregs OF his 10
% youth stirring within him the faint skel
IL ton of the wild sweet rapture seized him
that youth he thought gone from him 70
ever.
my sweet JESSIE" he whispered, an
al own little girl, would that were takir
yeu to my own hearth stone, there to
d. cherished foreverr
NJ Whereupon she struggled out of the ca
81 riage wrap, and out of his arms, lookir
ID up in his face with sore alright.
"Why, JESSIE" said Phil, "you sure
We mean to be my little wife some day, dol
n your"
he "Your wiier she stammered, all
ss, crimson fading out of her face, and b
ay eyes filed with terror. "Oh, no; that
no impossible; never-neVerr'
Phil made one little struggle TO catch
I'm this phantom of joy fast fading away frC
gh him.
Mt "Didn't you know that I hoped for th
M Jessief Had you no thought OF it yol
ed self"
I'm "oh no, Mr.. Fairfield-no, no ne'
~ dreamed you cared for me in that way.
Il thought you liked me as-as an un
'ru would, or-or a father. / haven't any
or ther, you know and-and suppose 1t '
ks wrong ii lad Won 40 helieye nerha
an bnt I couIdn,t. itYit ia NOT ~ be tbou
I'VE Of"
ma "An insuperable obstacle again."
hat peated bitterly. "once 1 was too your
hill now / am too old r.