Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1877-11-09


cheat or cheated, and his bread must be sour
and bitter. But the bread that is given is MS
sweet as the unbought blessings Of God. The
old monks were right. He who would keep
his conscience clear must beg his living. 1
am sick at heart of this lying sham of mine
and thine / know not, no man can know
for certain. in the war Of equities, what or
how much IL rightly his and rightly another's.
| leave such controversies 10 Others / am
tired of this grab etiquette at the table of life
do not ask for great portion, but what
do have l want to be able to eat with good
conscience. with assurance that it is mine
To that end | would gladly concede that ev-
erything Of right belongs to others, so that
my claim TO at least what they freely give me
might be clear. Often enough where get
perplexed ever the retiuements and hopeless
obscurity of meum and tuum, l half resolve
to become tramp myself"
but thought you said you were tramp ?"
said Miss Livingston, quickly.
why, so I am" replied he. At this mo
ment they turned corner of the road and
the lights of the hotel cleaned right ahead
Here leave you,' said the tramp.
"Oh, no." cried Miss Livingston, almost
laying her hand on his sleeve. You must
come to the hotel and take some of these
sweet gifts you talk of from me, although
they will not be gifts indeed, but rather a
scrimped payment for great SERVICE" and
her voice trembled.
Exactly" he replied; II don't want any
thing from you, because it would be too much
like trade, so I'll just jog along bit and
beg my supper from somebody l haven't
benefited. When people exchange gifts, you
know, they lose the flavor of both"
"Do stop moment" she exclaimed, as he
| turned away My father can get you work.
any nice sort you would hke-as a clerk, or q
policeman, or at anything. That would be
so much better than tramping, in spite of all
| you say DO, please, let him"
Il am too lazy to work, l fear"
but 1 can't bear to think that, after all
you've done for me, you should be kicked and
| abused at back-dOors as tramps are"
you are very kind young lady," replied
the tramp, while his voice trembled, either
with tears or some other emotion, 'but you
need not fret. As for the abuse. that is moth
/ ing but Il symptom of the moral dyspepsia
which well-to-do people get from eating bread
which they are not sure is rightly theirs and
as for kicks, don't get 'em-Tm too big"
You must let me do something for you,
| it's mean not to-" she cried, almost angrily,
her whole generous little soul boiling over in
indignant gratitude.
well, if you put it on that ground" said
| the tramp, turning squarely around to her,
there is one thing 1 would like. I'm afraid
| you'll think it too much, but it would be a
| great comfort, and stay by me longer, than
anything else l can think Of
What is it y she demanded, in tone that
was a promise.
ITS desirableness occurred to me when
you were lying asleep this afternoon" pur-
sued the tramp in his grave way. "Will you
let me kiss youI"
For sole reply Miss Livingston turned her
/ -, L i 4;
| appeared with swift steps in the darkness,
and she went on to the hotel with her feelings
| all topsy -turvey
1t was late that evening when she entered
| the hotel parlors. Had she followed her in
clinations, she would not have gone at all.
Her nerves were on edge, and she wanted to
be alone. The events of the afternoon de-
mnnded to be thought over alone and at
length. That morning she had counted on
the hop as a great event tonight it seemed
tame. She knew all the gentlemen who would
be there. They were well enough, and nc
doubt she should find them quite sufficient
when in less exacting mood: but tonight,
somehow, as compared with the almost ma
jestic impression of generous, strong, un-
trammeled, unconventional life and character
which the tramp had left on her mind, they
seemed small pale, artificial, and character
| less Not that she was sentimental about her
deiverer. How could she be that about a
man who. however noble and grand, was
doubtless even now eating broken victuals al
some kitchen door under the eye of the ser
want girl, or, possibly, stealing into far
mer's barn for nights sleep in the haymow
And yet, if not exactly sentimental, her feel.
ing was remarkably like it. At first she
wished that he would have taken money, fol
then he would have taken himself ont of her
mind and then she was glad he had not and
proud that he had not, and called herself alb
surd TO have urged it on him or thought thai
he was the kind of man to take it. How
strange it was, their walking along together
and talking like old acquaintance, she and {
tramp. Tramp. No, this knight and gen
tleman-this Natures nobleman, rather!
1t will be seen that Miss Livingston's caste
distinctions had been a good deal overturned
since morning. How could she let him go il
the way she did? And yet, what else eoulC
she have done? At any rate, she was glaC
she had given him that kiss. She should al
ways be glad of that and she blushed-yes
blushed-at the thought, and not wholly witt
shame, either.
When she entered the parlors her acquain
tances hocked about her with eager inquire
as to her adventure rumors of which had al
ready got abroad. But she was very short il
her replies. 1t was really not worth makint
so much fuss about, she said. She had beel
lost in the woods, and had found her way ou
again. and that was all.s About the rattle
snake adventure she was entirely silent, hav
ing no notion of exposing her tramp to tn
coarse comments of ordinary people, b.
which, in this case, she meant her pOlit
friends in general.
Declining to dance, she found seat by
retired window, where she could indulge he
pensive mood without disturbance, an
| ha olva,.va1 Ual izi.,
Mr.. Haywood with a complacency of whic
she certainly would not have been capable a
evening before. An acquaintance, Mr.. II
lis came up and asked leave to introduce
friend of his, Mr.. Kennard of Boston, VIII
had arrived that night, and who wanted
make her acquaintance 'Who is he 2" aske
Miss Livingston, who had no desire to b
obliged to entertain anybody tonight. III
is a first-rate fellow" Mr.. Ellis assured hel
"a lawyer in Boston. Excellent family; some
thing of n poet, too l believe. / met hiI
last year in the Tyrol. He was taking
Gfoot He has a great fancy for that sort q
thing. believe he has been walking throug
the mountains this time, sending his baggag
ahead"
Mr. Ellis went in quest of his friend, an
Miss Livingston sat looking out of the wiz
dow at bright spot in the distant landscap
made by the moonlight on the newly-shingle
roof OF q farmers barn.
II wonder if he is sleeping there tonight,
she was thinking, when Mr.. Ellis's voice re
called her attention.
Miss Livingston, let me introduce to yo
Mr.. Kennard-"
In evening dress his face shaved, but a
big and bronzed as ever, with the same quiz
zical smile in his brown eyes, her tramp stoo
before her !-AppLetOn's Journal for NOOen
Der.
WHAT KRUPP CANNON BALL DD.-Th
Shah of Persia one day expressed longin
for Krupp cannon in the presence of tn
Russian Minister, and the Gar immediatel