Spirit of the age. [volume] (Woodstock, Vt.) 1845-1913, 1877-01-31
the brakeman, putting in a snow-pow-

| Cne DrakeUldl, putllilS III IL SioW-poW
dered fur cap, and Withdrawing it
again as quickly asif he had been a
magnificent edition OF the Jack-in-a-
box, wherein children much rejoice at
holiday time. And Bertha Hooper
knew that she had reached her desti p
nation.
Stiff and cramped for the length of
time in which she had been sitting in
one position, she rose up, with little
steel-clasped traveling-bag in one
hand, and a dainty silk umbrella in
the other, and made her way to the
door.
All she could see when she stepped
out upon the wet and slippery plat
form, was u blur of driving snow,
through which the lights Of the SOIL
tary little country depot cleaned fit,
full y (; but the next instant something
flashed athwart her vision like a
friendly red eye-and beneath the re,
tiector over the station door, she SAW
u tall, fine looking young man, in
tur-trimmed overcoat, a seal,skin cap
set jauutily on one side Of a crop of
chestnut curls, and y red-lighted Ian
tern swinging from his lett hand, and
he stood strainine his eyes into the
stormy darkness, as if to catch sight
of some familiar face in the little
crowd
"Cousin Zebedec y cried Bertha,
aloud. and she made one spring into
the arms of this blonde-whiskered
young giant. For had not she and
Zebedee played dominoes and fox and
geese together in the days when she
wore blue ribbon sashes. and his hair
was Il closely shorn mat of carroty
red ? "Oh Cousin Zebedee, I'm
so glad to see you and | hadn't any
idea you had grown half so hand
some =.
And she gave him u great hug, at
the same time holding up her rosebud
lips for kiss.
But, to her infinite amazemeut, the
hero of the seal skin cap seemed a lit.
tie backward in responding to her
cousinly advances.
M-I beg your pardon" said he,
slightly receding, but I'm afraid there
is some mistake. My name Is not
Zebedee, and the lady for whom |
am looking is some years older than
YOU"
Bertha Hooper started back, color
ing and confused and, as she did so,
a fat comfortable looking old lady
came trundling along the platform, in
an India shawl and a boa of Russia
sable worth its weight in greenbacks.
"Charley" she cried, 81 thought |
never should find you. Is the car
rlage here p
"Al here, and waiting Aunt Effie,"
responded the young man; but he
still hesitated second, rs Bertha
Hooper stood with averted face and
motionless figure in the shadow of the
building.
"Can | be of any service to you ?"
he asked. eff you are expecting
friends who have failed to meet
you-"
"Anybody here by the Eame of
Berthy Hoo.oo-per ?" shouted a stem
torian voice, and a tall. raw-l looking
lad with lantern-,also lighted with
red glass rushed shifting around the
corner.
Zebedee himself! Zebedee. red
haired and shambling and awkward
as he had been in the old tox-and-
geese days.
''Oh !" said he catching up his Ian
tern, so that the scarlet birds wings
flashed out like spit oftlame-scarce-
ly more scarlet, alas, than Bertha's
own face. "Here you be I'm a lit
tie late, for the roads is so alfred bad
and l couldn't start the pony out of a
walk. Come on How de do? BE
you very cold 2
"Zebedee," said Bertha, clinsing al
most hysterically to her cousins arm,
"who's that young gentleman with
with the other lantern :"
"Eh |" said Zebedee. "That teller
with the old lady in . patchwork
shawl ?"
"Yes -
It's Charley Harcourt, the Squire's
son, said Zebedee. "Just come from
furrin parts !"
Zebedce," said Bertha, with Gu
rious little sound between laugh and
a sob, 'put me into the cutter quick !;
and driye mo somewhere I dont |