The Manchester journal. [volume] (Manchester, Vt.) 1861-current, 1876-05-18

EAAtHA AiF AAFt f-aAtA AHAttf - 49, -
frolh hsd pcrosptibly began to settle
be walked away with = troubled expires
sion lie hoped I.uih hadn'i any bard
feelings towards him. What could have
made her color up sog And then Il oc,
Cured TO him that though be bad asked
her often she had not ridden with him
for long time-noi since-why not since
+ RoxannA died and bis ewn face flushed
under the dawn of a new idea. Ruth
was afraid The neighborS might talk II
seemed strange TO him that be had not
thought Of Il before. Dear dear what
limid little thing she wAsi
T As be logged lonesomely along In the
great wagon that u1ed TO carry two, and
now seemed di.Inally empty with one, be
could not Danish her from biz mind, aud
be begun gradually TO realiIe bow con-
siantly she bad been In IL Of late. What
had made her manner 90 distant these
months pasty Was Il fear Of village
gossip, or did she really dislike himl lie
wished be knew and be jerked the relns,
unwittingly woundiug tne feelings Of his
faithful roam, conscicnuously trolting her
best.
Turning in at his own gate, rsbellious
clamor from Mr. EbbEons henHery greet
ed bic ear Alas for bis vain attempt to
overcome maternal instinct Hardly bad
he left their sight when the clucking
Brahmas sought their nest where the little
widow found them bill to bill, the scarlet
snkls-ties hidden beneath the straw. Six
times she dslodged them; six times they
reinslated themselves; and now, at noon,
there they sat brooding over the pile Of
bricks she had hcaped In their nest, and
winking their small round eyes at her In
lazy triumph II was too much. Was
an immortal woman to be outwitted by
a finite hen? The widow renewed the
conflict but not daring again to lay hands
upon the belligerent bipeds, she reSorted
to the discreet experiment Of poking at
them through the open window, thus af-
fording Mr.. Butterkin, as he rounded the
corner, a confused vision Of agitated cal
leo dancing about a distracted rake han.
die.
What setting again, Mrs. Ebbson3
The small lady, until then unconscious
Of the gentleman's proximity, hastily
withdrew her head from the window
and looked down in somc confusion from
her perch on an inverted barrel.
Yes, they're setting again; but It's 80
well--just as well, said she, rather inco-
herently, narrowed by the fear that she
was displaying her ankles.
Now, now, we must see about this, re-
sponded Mr.. Butterkin, fishing In his
pocket for ball of twine he had bought
that day for stringing the tomatoes, and
meanwhile gancing over his shoulder,
apparently to assure himself that the or
chard was where it should be. He would
have liked nothing better than to lift the
widow down, but bis instinct told him
that she would prefer to descend alone
and unobserved, and he was man capa-
BILE of self-sacrfce. Wen tie the hens
to the fence, he said presently, conscious
of thrill of delight as he pronounced the
1--WE"
He knew himself better than In the
morning, and could not disguise the fact
that be felt satisfaction in entering into
even the humblest partnership With Mrs.
Gibson, a satisfaction that was not shared
by the Brahmas, who resenting bis con-
tinued interference, tore his coat merci-
lessly. 1t was a jagged rent, from pocket
to hem, in his Sunday garment, too,
which in Roxanns's time had never gone
to the village on week day; but who
was there now to watch over Mr.. Butter
kin's appare2 Not Mr.. Buttcrkin, to
whom the distinctions Of dress were but
as sounding brass and tinkling cymbal.
What wicked, wicked shame cried
the widow, in distress; but I'll darn it
just as well as can.
No, no, thank you; it's Of no conse-
quence, replied Mr.. Butterkin, with man
ly Indifference.
But Esther can't mend broadclolh
Can'tf You don't say sol
lmbued with the masculine supersti-
ton that incapscity with the needle be-
tokens idiocy, Mr.. Buttcrkin looked
aghast.
No; she's young, you know, and not
used to sewing. Besides, I'm response
bic for this rent. Let me attend to it,
please.
He removed the garment without
word, bis face flushing like moose-ber-
ries in autumn. Not at the thought that
since Esther was incapable be must be
to the widow for past fsyors
with the needle-indeed be would have
declared that this was the
first occasion since Ro1anna's death that
a garment Of his bad needed rcpair--but
he felt 3 reluctance to being dependent
upon Ruth for a menial service, when It
was now the growing desire Of his heart
that she should lean upon him.
Seeing him color, Mrs. Gibson, out OF
sympathy, colored too, and such vivid
and lasting crimson that her mother at
dinner mildly reproved her for going out
without her bonnet.
But over bis coat that afternoon Ruth |
naturally thought about Mr. Butterkin,
while be, wedding The late turuips, re-
r.Ffed heF hin shes aud clnmsiiv triad IN \