Staunton vindicator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1860-1896, 1876-06-16

time when the.hull thing kin be spilled by a
! mite o. keerlessness. Jest turn and turn
dear, first one. then t'other, this a way and
that way. The idee o. that pesky da'tel
: O. mine tellin' me only 8 mint ago she
know'd it'd be lumpy and soft And
| Sally, she's the most unfeelin' y
''It's only her fun" said Sally.
''Fun ~ echoed the vexed matron.
''Wa'al, it's a mean kind o. fun, and it'd
sarve her right if she came out the little
, end o. the horn yet. But we'll take keer
of the cream, won't we, Sally?"
THAT we will, ma'am,': said Sally,
!, warmly.
''Jest turn and turn, you know" said
the poor woman, and went up the cellar
steps, not knowing that destiny had some
work of her own to do that night, and had
ruthlessly chosen the farmers wife for the
agent of her own discontinue. At the
top of the steps she met the young squire.
He said that, like the young woman in the
ballad, he was weary of dancing, and pro-
posed to have the old game of copenhagen.
And could she tell him where he could get
a rope? "Why, yes" said Mrs. Crane,
''there's one right down here in the cellar
I'll git it, Will-that's right; hev all the
fun you kin, you can't be young but once,"
and down she went into the cellar again.
Now if she had only contented herself
with getting the rope and handing it to the
young squire, who stood waiting at the
top of the steps, all would have been well.
He had scarcely left Angelica's side the
whole evening; he haG whispered lots of
pretty things in her ears; he determined
{ to tap no hand but herss in the ring. If
Mrs. Crane had only handed him the rope
without word but she couldn't help it,
poor woman; it was the fault of destiny,
as [ said before. Something compelled her
to stand right at the foot of the stairs and
| whisper:
'Keep right on, Sally dear-turn and
turn, like good little lass.''
And she might better have spok en- aloud.
scription that it cut the air; it fell swoop
upon the ear OF the young squire, and pres
emily he heard a sweet low voice in re-
ply:
'Yes ma am, I'll attend to it nicely"
He went back with a rope, in daze.
who was the turner ? What Sally was it
| that owned that sweet low voice, and what
| sweet low voice owned that dear name of
| Sally Will Randall had been famous at
school and college for solving problems
he never would, in fact, leave one unsolv-
ed; and presently he slipped away from
the rope, out of the room, and made his
way direct to the cellar door. He opened
it softly, closed it carefully behind him,
and went slowly down the steps. The
bulls eye of the furnace glared at him as
if the genius of fire within was bent upon
some spree of his own one of these days.
he heard a squeak, squeak, squeak, a little
off in the dim distance, and followed the
mysterious noise, confident it had some
thing to do with that problem he was bent
upon solving. He walked on t1ptoe, pass
ing many a coal bin heaped to the top with
coal; his locks brushed many ham and
tongue and juicy bit of bacon he saw
many hanging shelf filled with Christ
mas cheer it was fit to soften the heart of
this young scion of noble but impover-
ished house. The squeaking noise became
more and more distinct. He turned the
corner of q preserve closet, and suddenly
he stood still, because he couldn't go on
his feet stopped his pulse almost ceased
to beat; he saw something that sent the
blood flying to his heart that perfdiously
false yet faithful heart. He saw the slim
little figure of woman perched upon an
old broken hen-coop, her black dress tuck
ed up out of the water that escaped from
half dozen freeZers around her, her little
right hand turning one freezer, her little
left hand turning another; her soft silky
yellow hair all puffed about her pretty
head-that yellow hair that would match
exactly with the exquisite color of the one
holding the place Of honor among all his
locks Of hair her sweet lips parted with
anxiety for the fate of the cream, as they
had parted long ago with a far deeper and
warmer anxiety-those sweet, sweet lips |
Could it be? Oh, was it his own little
Sally-his one, only Sally, the pure idol of
his boyish love? Oh, what divine, raptu- |
rous problem was this given him to solve ?
That pumping apparatus about his heart |
began to work again with a will. He
crept around the preserve chest, between
the freezers, and putting one hand upon
Sallys lips, with the other drew her close
upon his heart.
"Hush, darling," he whispered; sit is l.
Will-your own faithful Will. Oh, Sally |
Sally"
Her little head he caught in time, and
kissed her fainting lips to life. He said
more in minute to Sally than he had
whispered all the night above. He de-
cided her fate and his own IN the twink
ling of an eye, and unblushingly believed
he was but fulfilling all the VOWS of long
ago under the walnut tree. AS for Sally
shy, trembling Sally--she was in rapture
Of bewilderment, of JOY and bliss, that is
seldom reached by mortals, until suddenly
the cellar door opened; then, indeed, the
crimson in Sally's cheeks paled, as the
stentorian whisper of Mrs. Crane was
heard upon the steps:
''It must be jest right now It's bin
turnin', you know, long enough now; it
kin set by, and Sally, you might jest as
well as not hev little fun l lay anything
it's jest the primest stuff you ever see.''
''The cream is spoiled whispered Sally,
her big, loving, fearful, happy eyes upon
Wills.
s'Not bit of it," said her companion
And although that cream was certainly
lumpy and little soft, Will declared it
the best he ever tasted, Oh would taste for
]! the remainder of his life; and as the cream