Marshall County Republican. (Plymouth, Ind.) 1856-1878, 1877-01-04
VOLUME Xxi.

purple fruit above her, the gold of stra
sun rays filtering down through th
million leaves above. Her dark, curtin
hair was pushed back, her cheeks wer
flushed, and the sleeves bad fallen ava
from her appraised, rounded arms as sh
stood on tiptoes below the provokin
cluster. A voice startled her, an,
brought her eyes back to the shinin
level of the river.
"Will you allow me to get you tn
grapesl"
/ If Christy had been n young lad
she would not have turned scarlet an,
uttered an exclamation of surprise
Being a schoolgirl, she did both fo
there, beside the boat, was slende
scarlet wherry, the oars lying length
wise, and the occupant standing withii
it, cap in hand. Christy did not neet
to glance twice at the close-cut jetty
hair, the bearded lips, the face olive
tinted by the sun, for surely the darl
eyes looking down at her could belong
to no other than the hero of her girlisl
dreams-Belle's beau. Nor could the
fated fairy prince" who comes sooner
or later into the life of most girls, have
the person of the young aristocrat who
stood awaiting Christy's reply, and re-
garding her with mingled amusement
and admiration.
Excuse me for startling you. ]
am certain you cannot get the grapes,
and, being q head and shoulders taller
than you, am equally certain that ]
can" he said, with smile.
"Ohl thank you'll II do want
them. like grapes"
"Most people do, was the laughing
response, as he reached high over
Christy's head and plucked two or three
punches. He dropped these in her
lap, and reached for more, while she
sat in schoolgirl fashion, holding the
gatherings, and stealthily Watching the
gatherer from under her wide hat-brim.
When he at last looked down at her,
having filed the bottom of the boat
with grapes, to ask if those were
enough, she was betrayed into laugh.
"Ohi q great many more than enough
for me. But you like grapes yourself,
don't you7"
"Indeed do. But pray don't do
that" for Christy was eagerly piling
fruit-clusters into the wherry. "rhere
Isn't room for them and for me too. If
you will let me-" be added, with glance
at Christy's still flushing face, 81 will
eat one bunch here in the shadow before
rowing down the river"
There followed time-Christy never
knew how long-of positive enchant-
ment. How it was that she forgot her
awe of the elegant Mr.. Ross, and began
to talk to her companion of her doings
and feelings, as she did, will ever remain
a mystery. And how thoroughly charm
ing he was How he listened and
laughed. at her school girl relations and
how handsome his dark Spanish face
looked under the scarlet boating cap I
And how enthusiastically he talked Of q
hundred things seen in travel while
Christy listened as enthusiastically, with
wide eyes and lips, and fingers stained
with the purple jQice of the grapesi
Mr.. Ross must have forgotten about
rowing down the river. The sun was
very low and the shadows were growing
chilly, when at last he said apologetical-
ly, raising himself from his loupRing
position in the wherry, 81 beg your
pardon for talking TO you so long, and
without an introduction, too I; but 1 be-
lieve we know each other. You have
twice called me by my name, so l know
you know me and / know you are my
the youngest MISS Evarts-
"Christabel Evarts," she said,
simply.
"You must let me row, or rather tow,
you home, to pay for my impoliteness
There is only room for one lii the
wherry, unfortunately but if You will
let me fasten this chain to the bow of
your boat, it win save you rowing up
stream"
The light OF the sunset was on the
river, and they seemed to be going
straight into the crimson glory. Christy
was too much astonished at her position
to say much but Mr.. Ross was very
merry just like any boy" as Christy
soliloquized. The latter was still in
state Of wonder as she stood again on
terra -firma, and watched her cavalier
fasten the boat and remove the oars.
81 always do that myself" she said,
taking perforce the last clusters of wild
grapes which were imperatively thrust
upon her. There was a bow and smile,
and the scarlet wherry shot ont into the
stream again. Christy turned and went
slowly up to the house, flaming bunch
OF cardinals in one hand and the rem
nants of the grapes in the other.
"Where have you been, Miss
Christyl" was the cooks rather cross
greeting. "Supper's over an hour
since. You'll have to take pickings in
the pantry"
Supper was the last thing Christy
thought OF. The remembrance of the
party came back to her, and, after a
hurried peep at the decorated parlors,
she ran up stairs ard began to dress.
She was very happy as she indus triously
scrubbed the stains off her hands. Could
il be possible that MIR. Ross-that Mr..
Ross whom she had admired afar off az
she might have done a young god-had
talked to her an hour and rowed her
home2 And ne was coMing to the party
tonight (Christy shrewdly guessed that
the party was given for him), and per-
haps he would speak to her agair.
Maria curled her hair, and pulled it
cruelty, but Christy was very serene.
Her white muslin dress and tiny slippers
were quickly donned, few flowers
pinned at throat and belt, and she was
ready. The parlors were already
lighted, and the full moon shone on the
piazzas and dewy gardens. There was a
subdued hustle in the kitchen. and
Belle, radiant vision of beauty, had
already swept DOWN stairs. 1t seemed rs
if every one had come. The first strains
of music had already sounded, the dance
was beginning, and no Mr.. Ross yet.
Christy was mucn in demand. So tired
was she Of fastening sashes, and trains,
and bows, of running for pins and pow
der, that, when at last the dressing
room was empty, she thankfully de.
scended the stairs, and, timidly creep
ing in at the rear door of the parlor
Immediately shielded herself behind {
lace curtain.
They were wsltzihg. What would
poor Christy have given to have beer
ga grown up young lady I" Her little
slippered feet beat the carpet as she en-
viously watched one gay couple aftel
another whirl past her. And Christy
caught her breath suddenly when al
opening in the crowd showed her Mr.
Ross waltzing with Belle. There he
was, transformed again to his aristocratif