Fair play., 1875-12-16

father-had faded until only breath OF
the old sweetness fingered. He be-
lieved that he was destined to remain a
single man the rest of his lifetime.
1t was early spring and Mr.. Kendall's
rural labors were often interrupted by
candidates for examination, but when
ever he was called in to question them
his heart sunk like lead in his bosom.
1t would be hard to say which most
dreaded the ordeal-the young, fright
ened schoolgirl making her first 'ppli-
cation for a certificate, or the calm and
apparently self-possessed committee
whose keen, searching eyes had such
power to confuse the young applicant.
One day, as he was working in the
garden, he heard the summons that he
had learned to dread, and entering the
house found young lady in waiting to
be questioned. There was something
{ in her pale, delicate face that impressed
him differently from the most of the ap-
plicants, for it was not only a very pref
ty face but most interesting one.
Pale, as 1 have already said, but not
with the pallor of i'll health. 1t was
more as though some sudden sorrow
had blanched the roses from her cheeks,
leaving her white and fair as a lily. A
line of crimson showed itself in the
pretty lips; the wistful blue eyes were
shaded with long, soft lashes, and back
from the pure, white brow was brushed
the wavy golden hair, tinged with a
shade of brown. The form was slight
but graceful and was arrayed in deep
mourning. Her face was very youth
full, and yet there was a maturity of ex-
preston rarely seen IN the countenances
of young maidens.
MIR. Kendall found himself unusually
embarrassed in trying to question this
beautiful and refined girl, so different
from the buxom maidens with whom
he was accustomed to deal, and it is to
be feared that his queries were not al
ways the most pertinent to the subject.
1t did not, however, reqnire much tact
on his part to discover that she was
possessed of an excellent education, and
il was with sense of relief that he felt
himself authorized to write her Il GER
tificate.
"What name shall 1 write!" he in
quired, hesitatingly.
"Norma Fielding.''
He held the pen suspended fora mo-
ment rs he looked at her inquiringly
"The daughter of the late George
Fielding?" he questioned.
She bowed without speaking, and Mr..
Kendall felt the blood rush in quick
tide to his face as he thought that this
beautiful girl had probably been a
neighbOr of his I'LL her life, and yet he
did not know that he had ever seen her
before. He felt that some apology was
needed, and he said with smile such
as but rarely illumined his face, 81 see
the young people about here SO seldom
that can scarcely remember their
"Itis not strange that you do not re-
cognize me, for have been away to
school for two or three years, and have
but lately returned"
"What school do you design to take?"
he inquired.
"The one in this district" was the
answer.
"Indeed!" and Mr.. Kendall was con-
scious of slight feeling of satisfaction
as he heard it, for the school-house was
not far distant from his home, and he
could not be utterly Indifferent to the
districts choice of a teacher.
George Fielding had died but a few
weeks before, and although when living
he was thought to be worth considera-
bic property, yet at his death it was
found that he had left his family in pow
erty. Mr.. Kendall was aware of these
and honored the brave
girl, who had been brought up and ed
ncated SO far above her station, for TAX
ing the first means that suggested itself
to earn her own support. He pitied her
deeply, for her sad face told only too
plainly of the loss she had sustained in
The death of a loving and devoted IA
her. As he passed her the certificate
ne said, in tone more tenderly modu-
ated than was his wont, 81 knew your
ather well. He was kind man, a good
leighbor."
A sudden rush of tears dimmed the
blue eyes as the kind words fell upon her
,ar. "Thank you," she said, rising;
& Io ,,,o, a GOOD fo<bor IN ~, -