The Eaton Democrat. (Eaton, Ohio) 1875-1903, 1877-09-06

short, revealing her blue woolen hose
and sturdy shoes. She was making fine
biscuits, her brisk, horny hands mold
ing them deftly and quickly. She has
set out round table with white cloth,
taking down the shining dishes from the
Old-fashioned dresser.
"They will soon be here, think, 4"
she says, ever and anon looking from
the great door, of which the upper half
! swings in, after the manner of old Dutch
farm-houses.
She came out presently, smiling and
courtesyingto party who drove up in a
neat little one-horse wagon. "This is
my mother" says the young man who
drives the equipage. Helifts down Fifne /;
he helps Madame to alight.
7 Fifine's little face is shining like that
of cherub new fledged in paradise. She
kisses the little old mother, and they are
friends instantly.
The sun shines down on hedge and
meadow, the quaint old house, the quiet
orchard. Blissful scents float on the air.
There is corn rustling on the sunny
slopes, there are blackberries ripening
in the lane. The whole air is hazily
sleepy with its freight of sunshine and
sweetness.
After that rare, that delicious lunch
in the old kitchen, they went wandering
about the place-to the old red barn, to
the pasture, where two COWS stood
patiently and stupidity looking through
the bars. "They are tamer" said Fifne,
who had once been to a menagerie. The
little old mother laughed, and the two
prattled gayly along hand in hand.
Madame, with a wild rose in her hair,
strolled ahead with the elate Monsieur
Jack. Round them rolled the billowy
| hills, faint autumnal haze floating at
| their low submits, and the smoke from
there and then farmhouse wreathing
up to the sunlight. Some birds twittered
softly in the copse, scarcely disturbing
the silence and sweetness of the summer
time hush. A tiny brook running along
the hedge glittered with eardinal-fowers.
Her companion gathered handful of
the flaming spikes for Madame.
"Ah, how beautiful they arew she
cried. Chow beautiful it all is here
One could, indeed, live in here forever" !"
She glanced about at the purple hills,
the fields, the peace and plenty every
where.
How can. n.you have all these glories,
and be poor% % she asked ain my coun-
try a peasant would call himself rich
with all these. He will have many
friends, and his wife will wear a silk
gown. He will not traffic in the city with
the cdnaiile."
A deep flush rose to the young mans
cheek. He did not reply at once.
Madam" said he at length, in this
country there are no peasants. We are
all free, and we do not care for trifes.
A man who owns his little farm is indie
pendent; he can make his own market if
he chooses. This is enterprise; that is
what keeps the fences trim, and the lit
tie old mother stirring. I buy and sell
where can. have no wife to object" ="
he added, laughing; I" for the rest, l am,
after all, poor man."
"Such povertyp cried Madame, lift
ing her hands. "Here, l repeat, l could
stay forever, my friend"
"A And UU your said Monsieur Jack,
turning his sunburned face suddenly
upon her. "See, madam, how happily
we have spent the day together. Let us
have many SUCH"
Fifne came fitting up thepath, laugh
ing and singing.
"Oh stay! oh stay maman!" she
cried; "the dear old mother will not
have us 60 away"
shall buy my wife silk gown -
whispered Monsieur Jack, mischiev-
ously.
Say yes, maman," cried Fifne.
And Madame, blushing and smiling,
looked down at the cardinal-Aowers and
said, Yes"