Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1875-12-31

er meaniugly; then the latter turned away
with a little pang at her heart. These two
were made for each other, handsome Char
ley and pale, frightened Charlotte; but
how would it be with them If evil in the
shape of Hiram briggs stepped between2
When she reached her own door Mrs. Bam-
Der was not only disturbed and distressed,
as she had been all day, but thoroughly out
of temper. She would have liked TO set the
world to rights, and had only succeeded in
rufflng her own amour proprc in the inter-
view with a Urusque, rude millionaire.
Perhaps il was this mood that made her
shake her head at the three pictures in her
window.
sob, there You are! 1 only wish could
recover the sum your frames cost me. Old
masters, forsoothP'
The pictures were small and dark as if
some shadow obscured their original mean
ing, even as brambles and moss might have
overgrown the artists grave. The sun
shot golden arrow in the window as Mrs.
Bamber paused, and Illuminated the dim
canvas. Perhaps the radiance Of revela-
ton reached her soul in that glimpse, how
ever family, the gleam of an angels wing
cleaving the sky, the wonder of the Vir-
gins upturned face but the sunset faded,
and Mrs. Bamber was left to sorrowful con-
temptation of the garish frames. "Some
papi st trash," she soliloquized. "Whatcv-
er possessed me 10 get 'em new frames!
shall never see the money back, I'll be
bound! I'm sure would be thankful to
a. I,1T oil rf,er
twenty for the frames and 1 suppose the
pictures are worth five, if they amount TO
any thing. Nobody will give that, though"
a year before the shop bell had brought
Mrs. Bamber from her supper TO the con-
temptation Of a thin, cadaverous stranger
Of the brigand type, wrapped in a cloak,
and with a broad hat drawn over his brows.
The man was faint with cold, and coughed
dolefully; he had no money and no friends.
Mrs. Blmber was not the person TO send
away such waif empty-handed. She
placed him before the fire in her own tiny
kitchen, and made Nanny, her small hand
maiden, serve him with hot tea she wrote
a note to the clergyman, who dispensed
charity, 10 find lodging; and she finally
despatched him with a bottle of Bamber's
Drops as gin. The stranger fingered in
the garret furnished him, reserved, trife
sinister, and only known to smile when
Mrs. Bamber preached 10 him in Il Ian
guage which he but imperfectly under
stood.
There came day in rude March, when
so many leaves drop from the tree of life,
| that the foreigner sent for Mrs. Bamber,
| bequealhing TO her solemnly three small
pictures set in carved wood.
"rhey are worth their weight in gold,"
he had whispered, aud turned his inscruta-
BILE face-in which there fingered triumph
to the end-to the wall.
Mrs. Bamber had shed a few tears, car
ried her gifts home cautiously, as if she
held some explosive projectile. The cler-
gyman surveyed the pictures through his
spectacles, and chllfed1he possessor's en-
| thusiasm somewhat by expressing pref
erence for engravings. He recommended
/ replacing the quaint olive-wood frames
with new ones, and exposing them for sale
| in the window. Clergymen are not always
the best financial advisers. Mrs. Bamber's
face grew very long when she saw the
framers bill. Stoneport was skeptical ol
| these daubs E; besides, the widow asked a
fabulous price for them. StonepoIt knew
a chromo and a modern landscape full Of
lively coloring, but such dismal things
were not to its taste.
The last night ofthe year closed in sadly.
Mrs, Bamber sat long beside the Morning
glory stove in the paror back of the shop,
slipping her tea, in which beverage alone
lay consolation. a portrait of DR.. Bam-
Der, representing him as a somewhat wall
| eyed gentleman. hung above her, and OPP
posite a cabinet displayed among other rel
les several skulls prepared by the lament
ed Archibald. Her thoughts went back 10
a dreamy day on an emigrant wharf where
she landed with her husband, who had
been injured by fall on the voyage. The
sense of desolate homesickness again swept
over her now, twelve years later, and gen
tleman with a good -humored rosy face
spoke 10 her kindly. Could she ever forget
that this Samaritan was DR.. Plat, of Stone
port, now gone TO his reward? He had asked
few questions, but had brought the friend
less chemist TO his own town, and estab
lished him In business. No one knew the
cost of ii all. 1t was not the good physi'
clans way to make his charity a burden
Mrs. Bamber wiped her eyes as she slipped
her tea by the stove, and the night CLOSED
in.
Up on the hill the old Plat homestead
was shrouded in gloom, and revealed only
one dim light in the dining-room. 1t wa'
a brick house, with white pillars support
ing a projecting roof, shaded in summer by
large trees, and seemed in the clear, crisI
evening surrounded by tender memories
Now it was all to be swept away, for thi
doctor's purse had been ever open, and HI
had left wife and son in stratened circum
stances. The lovers stood in the window
hand clasped in hand, asif claiming mutu
al support, while Mrs. Plat, stout LADY
with querulOus mouth, wandered from
room to room gazing at her household gods
"Even little Mrs. Bamber owns the roo
over her head, and all owing to the doc
tor" sob bed the poor lady, taking up ia
vorlle tea-cup with loving touch.
The young son set his teeth and drew
long breath. Charlotte could only lean he
brow against the cool pane. If they knew
all ! The night brought sorrow, but the on
suing day was only anticipated with dread
Hiram briggs made himself comiortabl
on the yellow satin couch of his little par
lor, with a decanter of wine at his elbow
and a cigar. If conscience is a matter o
education, he should have been wholly a
ease, but there had been an expression il
Charlotte Eaton's eyes as she departed tina
day which pricked him smartly even in re
membrance. This look he might never for
get The wonderful backward look of th
Cenci haunts world. Lounging on th,
yellow sofa, he reasoned himself out o