Essex County herald. [volume] (Guildhall, Vt.) 1873-1964, 1874-07-04

hhoW buAt ne NdS d1OhSJ NACNy eIhN
heartsick, and discouraged, turning
with longing heart from the hot and
dusty city streets, to the fresh, green
meadows of the country. r.fcsro
He went. For two days he tramped
slowly along, sick in mind and body.
He had tried again and again to find
employment as he came along, but still
that same helplessness of ignorance
was his bqne and barrier. He was
sick, very sick, and knew not where he
might lay bis weary head. At last he
fell, and knew no more. .-. r-- 20,
After the long blank and darkness, he
had dreamy sense of pleasant,
shaded room of open, vine-covered
windows, filed with fresh, pure flowers;
of kind, hearty, rugged face, that
came and looked at him, and then
spoke cheerily to another kind and
motherly face that hovered over him
oftener, and smoothed his pillows, and
brushed back his clustering hair, matted
with his restless fever-tossings of an
other face-an angel he dreamed that
was-younger, and so fresh and sweet
that the very sight of it seemed to put
him far on his road to health again.
This face did not come SO often as
the others. It would steal softly in for
moment with the other faces and
even then, if he happened to be awake,
it would dart out again in frightened
manner, and as the days passed on and
he grew better, it did not come at all
and then he grew impatien4 to get well
and find where it had gone. .....
At last the pleasant morning came
when he was well enough to walk out
and sit upon the pleasant porch and
then, unasked by them, for they wero
too kind to intrude upon his secrets, he
told them all his story, and they lis
tened and gave him their warmest SYM
pathy and one face-the timid, fresh,
young one-was pathed in tears behind
the leafy screen, where it had crept un-
| seen.
He had found his haven at last.
Farmer Royston good, worthy soul
that he was-offered him q refuge and
place where he could earn his own
living and he went to work. His whole
heart was bent upon learning, and he
progressed rapidly in the duties of the
farm and not there only. He made
just as rapid way into the affections of
the family. OF the family, in truth !;
but of the shy young heart in particu-
lar, he could not feel so sure. That
very shyness that added such charm
to her sweet young beauty, interposed
an almost insurmountable barrier to
her confidence. He could not tell how
she regarded him she was SO shy and
reserved, scarcely ever speaking to him,
and never remaining alone with him a
moment.
The months rolled on and he had
been there year. In that year of in
dependence and healthy labor he had
grown strong and rugged, and hand
somer than ever. He had improved in
mind, also, for though his accomplish
ments were thrown aside. he had gain
ed store of practical knowledge that
was invaluable to him and more, he
was desperately in love. The young,
shy face had conquered him COM
pletely.
One pleasant summer evening he
strolled down beside the river, and un-
expectedly came upon Hattie Royston
sitting silently beside the old tree that
grew upon the waters edge. She
started to her feet and would have run
away, but he gently detained her with
his arm.
"Why do you always avoid me, Hat
tie ?" he asked, trying to look into her
averted face.
She made no reply, and only turned
further away from him.
"Do you dislike me, then, SO much,
Hattie ?" he asked reproachfully.
The look she flashed upon him was a
direct denial of the charge, yet she
would not speak.
"I love you so dearly and so tender
ly that my whole life must be sad one
if you do not love me in return. You
do not wish my life to be that, do you,
Hattie ?"
The answer came so low and faint
that he had to bend his face close down
to hers to hear the soft little whisper :
"No; not that !" ...
He bent so low that his face almost
touched hers, and then he saw it was a
rosy red, with now and then tear
sprinkled upon it like diamond. He
thought she was panied and in dis
tress. r..-...
"I am SO sorry, Hattie. did not
mean to give you pain. - ~.
She stopped him with little finger
pressed upon his lips and now she
looked up, grown bolder In her Joy.
Can you not see that am only
happy? that am crying for that very
happiness ?" and she smiled lovingly
through her tears. ts.
You love me then, darling ?" he
asked, as be drew her closer to him,
and bent down to look within her eyes.
" Yes, yes | have loved you SO much.
ever since"
she paused in sweet confusion, and her
old shyness returned.
"Eyer since the day you fell out
there in the road and we brought you
in" .-...
They said no more just then; what
need =? the silence is full of words to
lovers, and they were more than con.
tent with this.
"Will I let you have her? OF course
will and glad OF the chance to give
her to so good a husband |" said Farm.
er Royston, when Sidney asked him fol
his prize and the good wife spoke
likewise.
And so the days rolled rapidly along
towards the one appointed for the we'd
ding. And on that very morning let
ter came from the absent uncle. It twas
as follows
DEAR SIDNEY: The speculations thai
we thought had ruined you, have turn
ed out splendidlY. / have in my pos.