Orleans County monitor. [volume] (Barton, Vt.) 1872-1953, 1875-08-23

Why Ruth began to sing just then,
and why she became so absorbed in her
oleaginous sculpture as to seem entirely
unconscious of the appearance of a young
man at the dairy door are questions
which every woman will find no Difficult
ty in answering. Actuated by one of
the whims which often rule the simplest
of the sex, she worked and sang as if no
anxiety had rufled her quiet heart
while Nat stood and watched her with
an expression that would have silenced
her had she chosen to look up and meet
it.
The years that had done much for
Ruth had been equally kind to Nat, in
giving him generous growth, for the
figure leaning in the doorway seemed
full OF the vigor of wholesome country
life. But the head that crowned it was
such as one seldom sees on farmers
shoulders, for the brown locks, gathered
back into ribbon, after the fahsion of
the time, showed forehead of harmoni-
GUS outline over arching eyes, full of the
pathos and the passion that betrays the
presence of that gift which is divine
when young The mouth was sensitive
as any woman's, and the lips were often
folded close, as if pride controlled the
varying emotions that swayed nature
ardent and aspiring as fame of fire.
Few could read the language of this
face, yet many felt the beauty that it
owed to finer source than any grace
of shape or color, and wondered where
the subtle secret lay.
Ruth, may | tell you something ?"
"Of course you may. Only don't up
set the salt-box or sit down upon the
churn"
Nat did neither but still leaned in
the doorway and still watched the trim
figure before him, as if it was very pleas
ant to his eyes while Ruth after brief
glance over her shoulder, a nod and e.
smile, spatted away as busily as ever
''You know was one.and twenty yes
terday ?"
I'm not likely to forget it, after sew
ing my eyes out to work smart waist
coat as a present
''Nor for there's not such another
in the town, and every rosebud is as
perfect as if just pulled from our bush
yonder. See, I've put it on as knights
put on their armor when they went to
tight for fortune and their ladies' love-
As he spoke, Nat smilingly thrust his
hands into the pockets of a long tapped
garment, which was masterpiece of the
needlework in vogue a century ago.
Ruth glanced up to him with eyes full
of hearty admiration for the waistcoat
and its wearer. But something in those
last words of his filled her with troub-
lie both sweet and bitter, as she asked,
anxiOusy d.. \
care you going away, Nat %
"FOr week only. Uncle has been
very kind and given me a chance to
prove which road it's best for me to
take, since the time has come when
must choose. ride to Boston this af-
ternoon, Ruth, carrying my poems with
me, that | may submit them to the crit
icism of certain learned gentlemen, who
can tell me if deceive myself or not.
have agreed to abide by their decision,
and if it is in my favor--as God grant
it be-Uncle leaves me free to live the
life | love, among my books and all
that makes this world glorious. Think,
Ruth a poet in good truth, to sing when
will, and delve no more Will you
be pleased and proud if come back and
tell you this %
"Indeed. will if it makes you hap
Ply. And yet" she paused there,
looking wistfully into his face, now all
aglOw with the hope and faith that are
so blissful and so brief.
"What is it, lass? Speak out and
tell me all that's in your heart. for 1
mean to show you mine," he said in a
commanding tone seldom heard before,
for he seemed already to have claimed
the fair inheritance that makes the poet
the equal of the prince.
Ruth felt the change with thrill of
pride, yet dared to suggest the possibil-
ity of failure, as finer nature would
have shrunk from doing in such hap
py, hopeful hour as that.
"If the learned gentlemen decide that
the poems have no worth, what then %
He looked at her an instant, like one
fallen from the clouds, then squared his
shoulders, as if resetting the burden put
off for a day, and answered bravely,
though shadow crossed his face:
Then give up my dream and fall
to work again-no poet, but man, who
will do his best to be an honest one. /
have promised Uncle to abide by this
decision, and I'll keep my word
"Will it be very hard, Nat?" and
Ruth's eyes grew pitiful, for in his she
read how much the sacrifice would cost
him.
"Aye, lass, very hard" he said. brief
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