Perrysburg journal. (Perrysburg, Wood Co., O. [Ohio]) 186?-1965, 1874-06-12
CELIA'S MOTH.
By KATE PUTNAM osaoop.

"THERE he is in the candle againl"
exclaimed Celia, stopping her needles
and whisking the halffinished stocking
at circliDg moth obstinately bent on
perishing in the flame. Il wonder what
moths were made for S-stupid thingsl"
"Made for the candle, perhaps" said
Rory, with peculiar infection in his
lazy voice.
Celia gave him an impatient glance,
but resumed her knitting without answer
ing.
continued Rory, presently, but II the
truth were told, don't you suppose the
candle likes the game, toog"
"No, DON'T" answered Celia, shortly.
"Well, you ought to know" said Rory,
with that queer accent again.
Celia threw down her knitting-work a
second time. "I declare, Rory" she
cried, al won't be hinted at like thisp'
"What can do but hint-if you won't
let me speak outH" said Rory.
"Well, speak out, then make an end of
il; maybe it's better So" said Celia.
RorY's reply TO this was to get up and
come round the table to where Celia sat !;
whereupon Celia, in her turn, quietly
slipped round and seated herself in his
empty chair. Rory did not dare to follow
but he looked at her in discounted and,
imploring way that raised the ghost of
smile upon her hitherto stern little mouth.
But she Immediately became judge-like
again.
"Now, Just sit down there" she said,
" and say out what you have got to say"
"What's the user" muttered Rory, sulky
at being outmaneuvered. "You know it
Just as well as l do"
"Know tohdt? Say it out, tell your
"Why, that THAT you-O Celial that
I love you so much can't say itr' cried
Rory, a sudden boyish gush OF tenderness
melting through the little crust.
Here Celia dropped one of her knitting
needles, dived down for it, and came up
with red cheek. But her reply was
practical in the extreme.
Well, suppose you do, what does it
amount to? l wouldn't marry shirk,
anyway"
This time it was into Rory's dark face
that the blood flew, and he bit his lip.
Celia's word had stung deeper than she
knew or meant, perhaps.
"What would you have me doP" he
said, at last.
Anything answered Celia, energet-
ically "Get hammer and break stones
on the road would be better than moth:
ing"
aBut why should 1 work since my
father left me enough"
"Why should you work." interrupted
Celia. "Why, for the sake of working
Yes, know-more's the pity; your
father did leave you just enough to dawdle
along. Yes, you do dawdle, Rery-no use
scowling like that; what else can you
call the way you've spent your time ever
since you came homer When it's rainy
you dawdle off with 6shing-rod and
when it's pleasant you dawdle under the
trees with book all day long; and then
in the evening"
"In the evening dawdle round the
CANDLE" completed Rory, sarcastically.
"Yes, exactly; and can tell you, Rory,
the candle doesn't like it'll"
Doesn't it?" said Rory, getting up.
"Well, goodnight, then, candle; won't
dawdle round you any more this evening,
anyhow" With which speech he took
his six feet of laziness out of the room.
Celia stopped the click of her needles
and listened for his tread on the stairs.
She did not hear it, but what she did hear
next minute was the outside door closing
with bang that indicated Master Rory
to be in no very gentle mood. 4 little
smile and then little frown came over
Celia's face.
where is he off to now, l wonderS"
she said 10 herself, not condescending,
however, to go to the window and see
what direction the truant was taking.
"To Susy Tibbetts', perhaps he has done
that once or twice before when l put him
out--and he was put out tonight Well,
I nanif haln II. I NAnft him n n
to waste so and hold my tongue. If he
chooses TO revenge himself by going to
Susy Tibbetts', why, he must, that's all.
l suppose he won't expect me to sit up
for him; he knows there's the pantry win
dow for folks that stay out late courting."
But Rory had not gone to Susy Tib-
betts', albeit certain of being suffered
there to hover round the candle as long
and as close as he liked. he had gone
down to the mill-stream, to a messy stone
where he had been won't as Celia said, to
dawdle with fishing-rod; but there was
no fshing-rod in his hand now, and no
dawdling in his mood, either. That word
J" shirk" was still ranking within him i;
it was not by any means the first time
that Celia had scolded him for being
lazy, but that epithet somehow seemed to
point and drive home the reproach in
quite new way.
Rory was lazy, there is no denying that.
You saw it in the languid grace of his
well-developed figure; in the peculiar
curve of his lips; in the very way in which
the heavy lids rose slowly from his eyes,
as if it were hardly worth the trouble; in
motion and outline, as in coloring, the
Southern mother was betrayed in him.
Yet underlying all the tropical warmth
and softness was the firmer stratum that
came from his New England ancestry on
the other side; and Just as you were
surprised, when the black lashes were
lifted, to see pair of deep blue eyes set
in the olive face, so you were surprised
sometimes to see those large, sleepy eyes
kindle into keeness of comprehension
and energy foreign to his whole exterior.
To repeat, the rock lay under all, only ii
lay so deep that it was seldom touched
But it had been touched tonight. He
had left Celia in one of those flashes OF
anger not at all unusual with him; but
he seated himself now on the stone by the
millbrook with an uncemmPnly well.
defined purpose of thinking 1t all out
"it'' being Celia, himself, and his own
position with regard TO her and things in
general.
What that was does not require many
words to explain. Rory-and here it may
be remarked that he did not owe his Irish
name TO any Irish blood, but to the ina
bility of one of his fathers farm, hands tc
-as he phrased it-get his tongue round
the little fellows name. For Capt
Trent, with that peculiar taste in nomen
clature not infrequently to be observed in
the New Highlander born and bred, had
called his boy Rosario, after the South
American settlement where he had me-
his wife; and, this sppellation being un
manageable to more tongues than Pat Nc
Ginnis', that worthy's solution of the
difficulty had been speedily adopted by
everybody. Rory Trent, then, was th'
orphan son of South American Spaniar(
and rowing New Englander, who haC
been a sailor and little ofeVerything els'
before becoming settler in Buenos Ayres
where he made considerable money il
sheep, which he afterward lost in specula
tion. Shortly after his marriage the fancy
took him to return to his native town
which he accordingly did, richer thar