The true northerner. [volume] (Paw Paw, Mich.) 1855-1920, 1876-12-29
ONE NEW YEAR IN A THOUSAND.
BY HARRIET PRESCOTT sPoPFoRD.

BY HARRIET PRESCOTT SPOPFORD.
Betty Wilmarth-and quaint, piquani
little beauty she was. They used to call
her changeling; for where she found
that Spanish face of hers, nobody knows.
Somewhere far back in her ancestry, il
may be, an old beauty bequeathed it
but out of race of blondes her face had
blossomed as dark and rich as the pict-
ures of those Spanish women where the
lovely c0lors seem to be retiring every
day farther into the shade of the canvas
"a golden, tawny shin, with crushed
crimson on the cheek; delicate features,
with fine curve to the thin nostril and
a short one to the red lip, that gave o
glimpse of little white teeth; and great
black eyes, whose flash only the long
black shading lashes subdued to O soft
glow. Yes, Betty Wilmarth was beau.
ty. and somehow ms fascinating as beau
tiful; full OF innocent caprices that SET
you TO wondering what would be the
next, and kept your interest alive; with
temper that struck sparks, but which
was III the next moment all sweetness
impulsive, warm hearted, q charming,
willful piece, setting her lovers by the
ears, and making all the other girls de-
voutly wish she would be married and
done with it; for, of course, there was no
chance for anybody else so long as Betty
Wilmarth was around.
But Betty Wilmarth was in no sort of
hurry to marry; one by one she fiilliped
off her lovers lightly as thistle-down.
Petted and caressed and INDUCED to
death, as people said, she declared she
wanted neither to be an old man s darling
nor young mans slave; and old lovers
consoled themselves and new lovers took
their turn, and she was heart whole and
happy, singing her way through life, and
counting her twenty years in the sun
shine as child might count a row of
brilliant beads.
But one of these lovers was not to be
filiped off as lightly as the rest; and
that was her mothers young step
cousin, Will Maunder. He had come
down to Peterborough from his noun
tam home in the deep forests, after the
disastrous fire that left him only bare
ROCK Tor his inheritance; and where, save
Eor his mother and some old goodies.
he had never seen woman; and Betty
had struck him rs goddess might have
.stiock clown. Not that Will Maunder
was clown, by any means-his mother,
n lady who carried her ladyhooG into
the woods, had attended to all that: and
II certain wild grace and rude courtesy
his every action. But he
~as brawny, long-legged, stalwart fell
low, Cor all that, aud his fair face had
been sun-kissed with many freckle,
and his fair hair curled close to his head
IN tight rings; but Betty knew nothing
about any Greek head with close curIs
of the same description, and would have
liked 1t no better II she had; and of all
things, she despised freckles. She had
an ideal of the face and form and mind
and manners that were to win her on
some distant day-a day distant enough
to borrow enchantment "a slender.
knightly shape. perhaps, a perfect coun-
tenance, long auburn locks
" discolored, as if a crown,
hnclrcied them 30 frayed the basnet where
sharp white line divided clean the hair,
Glossy above, glossy below"
She would not have ieed it at all if she
had seen it SO; and, if she had but known
it, the massive limbs and shoulders of
Will Maunder were much more like the
ancient knights she dreamed about than
possibly could be this absurd and puny
ideal she had set up.
Tue days of chivalry are over now,"
said Betty, with sigh.
Mighty disagreeable, cold, cherries,
dangerous and uncomfortable DAYS you
would have found them" said Will.
g." Cherries or not, they're over"
''' What makes you say so, Betty" he
asked, from where he sat at her feet.
COB, because they are p she answered,
throwing up her pretty arms and clasp
ing tkem above her head as she leaned |
it back among the honeysuckles, and |
looked AZ sweet as they, and made poor |
Wills heart beat with looking at her.
'Ob, because they are Who would |
1are great adventures for anybody now
scale castles, kill giants, enter the
lens of wild beasts"
al would-for you, Betty"
ooh dear me How tired I am of |
hearing you say 80! They would, for
anybody. Now please don't, Will dear,
my more! There are no castles here
don't want anything of wild boasts
md you're a giant yourself, on know"
q wish L wasn't, Betty. I'd change
with that little Hop-o my thumb, Fred
Sammis, if"
''Oh, that shrimp! do detest him
le's such a-such a spoon!"
81 thought you didn't like slang,
Betty