Ellsworth American. [volume] (Ellsworth, Me.) 1855-current, 1875-08-26

| n' oHCc 0uests ~
the SQuire's on the Sabbath inquired who
that lovely Young lady who sang in the
choir was. and IL was only the ''boy''
with long years OF alternate work and stu
dy before me. After my recitations to her
father we had long talks, sometimes on the
piazza, sometimes under the maple at the
front gate, Millie tearing open maple
leaves aud encouraging me In my efforts 10
"get an education" She had great notions
of the beHefcial effects of encourage
| ment ,ss@A
Then Stacy came. Stacy was good look
Ing. painfully so. Stacy hadn't worked in
the open air for six months. Stacy's hair
was cut In peculiar fashion; ] might
brush forever and mine wouldn't look the
same. Stacy's hands were white and slen-
der; mine rough and red, with bulging
| knuckles. Stacy wore miraculous boots,
mine clumped at the heels and squeaked in
the soles; the heels weren't shaped like
Stacy's and something was the matter with
| the instep. Stacy wore white linen suits /;
sometimes he had n flower in his button
hole; pitched hay in calico blouse and
had grasshoppers aud crickets all over me.
Stacy lounged ON a settee under the
| squire's evergreens, and read newspapers !;
| ] went half mile in dust and heat after
the oxen.
he came up from the post Office announc-
| ing that there was a pretty girl in the
brown cottage with the brown blinds; his
aunt must Introduce him to that girl.
saw then just how IL would be. | tried to
believe Stacy was puppy, but | knew
| better. lie tried TO be social with me
would have been friendly. Sometimes he
came into the field, puttered with rake.
and chatted with the men. The men pro-
nounced him good fellow. lie walked
with Millie. rode. baated. picnicked. sang.
and read poetry with her. I got hay seed
down my back. thistle spines In my boots
aud begsar lice in my hair; now and then
We came upon humble bees nest.
In those days we had no ten hours sys-
TEN, we worked from sunrise To sunset
But the squire was one of my best friends
le allowed me a lamp To study by till II
O'Clock at night, and lie let me oil at six To
rccite
When pas ssed through the hall on the
way to Parson Winn's study, had
glimpses of Millie and Stacy in the parior.
Sometimes Mllie looked up, sometimes
not. Sometimes they were In the yard.
once under the naples. Stacy swinging
Miles broad brim. MilIic tearing open
maple leaves How poor and Insignificant
| ielt as passed them. A half suppressed
laugh followed me down the street Was
| 1t my boots or my coat? NV coat didn't
ut like Stacy's; the pockets sagged; there
was most agsravating flap about the
skirts,
Independence day approached. \ ride
and picnic were on the programme. sta
cy was Ia take Millie. and had engaged the
squire's new phaton and gay colt. Rose.
| said wasn't gong-,iida't enjoy picnics
My good friend, Lob Hart came over 10
remnnstrate with me upon this decision.
IL was rainy afternoon. aud the Interview
was held on The baru fioor-Bob on the
| calycs's bucket turned bottom side up, his
| cap on the back OF his head. and earnest
ness and sense of responsibility in every
iineament Of his good naturcd, freckled
/ face.
Il tell Nou IL won't answer. Johnnie"
said he; "Eyerybodyll say ii was because
| you couldn't carry Mile. Iou ought To
| go,-ior the sake OF your own reputation
you ought to 90"
For the sake of nv own reputation"
consented. All the best girls and horses
had been already picked up. didn't much
care. There was sarepta Thatcher, an old
ish girl, who was learning the tailor's
trade, tall colorlcss and silent; there was
the Squire's Dobbin. a siir jointed clever
creature which had worked in the hay field
every day for fortnight. | engaged both.
And IL was with both that on Indie prudence
morning ! appeared at our rendezvous on
| the common. Stacy was already there.
Mile was too bewilderingly beautiful for
anything, stacy Ia full toilet. the black colt
curvetting and prancing. the new phHton
and silver mounted harness giittering in the
sunlight. Sarepta sat up stiff and speech
less, my hat kept fiy Ing of, our wagon was
low and springless, Dobbin in extreme de-
4 If 81 te.s Of
ed with bed cord.
! Mile nodded pleasantly, little patron
izingiy. perhaps. She aud Stacy were ra-
dainty happy. There was much laughing
and flashing between mem. II fiction cler-
| gymen's daughters are generally repre-
sented as mildly a.niable. regarding moth
ing In young man save good principle =
| observation diftereth from fiction. Mile
was good, and sweet. and gentle; but
| didn't she love style, and lcdsRt she ambi-
| tious.
stacy once or twice drove around the
| common. just TO take up the time while we
were waiting The colt Rose was high
| spirited and nervous, but Stacy was a
horseman. and held The rein, like mas
ter. Finally we started, the crack car
! riages leading of like the wind, Stacy's
slittering in the advance, Stacy's and Mil
lies face turned toward each other, a blue
| gauze veil end floating on the breeze. Dob
bin stretched himself. the harness straight
ened. the old wagon screaked, and Sarep-
ia and logged along in the dust in the
, rear.
sarepta, Dobbin and |. arrived at the
| grove about three-Quarters of an hour aft
er Stacy aud Millie were on the spot Ev-
cry one said what splenddly matched
couple they were. Every one referred to
them The boys were tor going just where
Stacy proposed, and doing just as Stacy
thought best. and Stacy referred every
thing to Miles wishes. We promenaded
in the grove, rowed on the lake. danced
on the green sward. A caterer, who with
hampers and walters had followed us,
spread q collation. in the pine glade. and a
| band. 1. e., three instruments, discoursed
| sweet music. Millie. though clergyman's s
daughter. could dance like poppet Sta
cv was 1.-the and graceful my boot heels
clumped and lby pockets sagged worse
than ever. Sarepta bobbed and dogged.
By and by, Stacy and Miliie were roaming
Though the grove looking for ferns; once
Stacy was wreathiug mitchelle vine in her
hair, once she was sittisg on fallen tree
trunk, Stacy lounging on the bank before
her In an attitude OF easy grace couldn't
have assumed had practised on it day
and night for fortnight.
The faithful Bob called me one side.
''FOr heavens sake don't show it so
plainly. Johnnie!" said he.
i said there wasn't any it about 1t;
had the headache. a
We had planned TO ride home at mid
night A half hour before the sun set there
rolled up over its face q heavy thunder
cloud. Stacy was always peculiarly affect.
ed by lightning. This affection Inow know
to have been inherited, and owing to
physical causes which put it entirely with.
out the domain of will, but 1t would have
been difiicult to convince lot Of healthy
firm nerved country boys and girls that II
was owing TO other than cowardice. The
colt, Rose. too, was mortally afraid ol
lightning. She had this summer been In
pasture, and on the approach of storm
the squire offen sent me to bring her to
the stable. Sometimes l had found mel
hiding In the hemlOck coppice, trembling
piteously and perspiring at every pore
She knew my voice and the joy with