Ellsworth American. [volume] (Ellsworth, Me.) 1855-current, 1878-01-24

looking at her fondly. al dsa't see Why
she let's thar young Spur go with her so
much" he continued, as they walked of
arm in arm. Il hope she won't fall 10 love
with him
al don't see how she could" responded
Reuben, watching them rather grimly.
she has too much sense to fall In love
with such rattleb-ain as he"
My dear boy" said grandpa, slowly,
did you ever hear of woman using her
sense when she was In lover The smarter
they are. the greater fools IL makes them.
The lovliest woman I ever knew made
herself an IDIOT over an ugly little hgn
tempered wretch-and married him. too.
Never be surprised at anything woman
may do when she Is in love"
The doctor lifted cigar and puffed away
10 thoughtful silence. He finished the
cigar, and grandpa went into bed, and to
stsep. and TO snore; but the proo'enaders
did not return. He tossed the blazing
stump away. with a muttered something
that was not exactly a benedction, and
marched of to bed with very resolved air
and 4 much roughened iorhead.
The next afternoon was so tempting that
Lutte found it impossible TO sit in the house
and work. Ii seemed sin to stay indoors
while there was such sunshine and such
fresh green outside. So she put on her
sun bonnet. and with "Endymion" in one
hand and her fishing tackle IN the other,
set out for the pond. 10 spend the afternoon
in way after her own heart. 'Farras
Pond IS il WAS called, was the admiration
and envy OF the whole county. IL WAS 10
n deep hollow. shaded by beautiful trees,
and was so large that strangers often o'is-
took Il for a lake, much to old Mr.. Farra's
delight. II hah been dug by the present
owners father when the adjoining city was
but humble village. 1t was favorite
resort Of Lute's partly on account of the
fine fish in which II abounded, and partly
because Of it, own lovely quietness. She
soon arrived at II. and. soflly whistling to
herself, lsil her book and lines In the little
boat, and glanced around for signs OF fish
Ing worms, Her experienced eye soon de-
cided on place, and she began industri-
ously digging for them with an old shingle.
Bah she said as she deposited half a
dozen sQuirming red fellows in the rusty
tin can kept there for the purpose. What
nasty things worms are. wish one could
h-h without bait. IL takes away half NV
pleasure TO have TO put them on the hook.
There, that's enough. Oh. mercy, I've
got my feet damp In this horrid wet place
but no matter. I'll stick EN- up on the
seat in front OF me, and the sun will soon
dry them"
She went back TO the skih put her bait
In, and then got 10 herself unlocsed it,and
padded ont beyond the shadows Of the
tree. into TIE warm sunshine. She took H.
her paddle and laid 1t across her lap.
bAiied her hook. and dropped it gently
into the water, elevated her feet on the
seat ID front OF her and began to enjoy
herself greatly.
what sweet thing sunshine is' she
said medita;ively Watching the flying cloud
shadows and trembling tree shadows.
Lutte was great lover OF Eatare, but she
Kept Il carefully hid. She had an idea that
II looked sentimental aud weak to 20 into
rsptures over birds flowers. etc. and she
had = great horror of both those adjectives
Il believe had bite. Pshaw' no.
didn't Well. I'll read while. like To
read Keats out of doors on a day like This =
She went on, slowly turning the leaves.
1T gives fresher flavor TO his lush green
leaves aud 'd,~s dsbbled poppies.' | be-
lievc I'll begin st the beginning. The first
book OF "Eudy ymion" Is III. best anyhow. q"
She began to read. at first with her at
tentioR dividing between her bobbing cork
aud her book. but the book soon got the
best OF II. The venturesom iish nibbled
but finally big fellow got the hook in hi.
unfortunate mouth. and gave the line such
jerk a 10 bring her back abruptly from
the classic shades OF Mount Latmos II
did not bring her back without a start,
though. and that start sent the paddle In
her lap spinning in the water. and came
very near sending her book after II. but II
fortunately fell IN the bottom OF the boat
instead. Lutte was too keen fisherwoman
10 waste thought on such triiiing things
as paddles and books at such a moment a.
this. Her whole heart was on the end OF
her line. About dozen abortive efforts.
10 which she came near capzIng her little
sAiif, she brought the fsh out OF the water,
painting and wriggIing, and regarded him
In triumph
What beauty she said. dIsensaging
her hook from his mouth. He's the bIg-
gest oas | ever caught here. He must
weigh al least five pounds" Lute's idea
OF weight was defective. won't Ben be
jealous? Crhere, old fellow, lie there. Now
| must get that plagued paddle"
But that plagued paddle was far beyond
her reach now. and was floating TRANQUILITY
OF TO shore. Its good thing there's
another in the bottom of the boat. or |
should be in q bad tix.' soliliquized Lutte,
as she threw out her line again I'm glad
my book didn't fail in the water. don't
think I'll read any more now | feel In a
fishing humor;" and the lately caressed
book was allowed TO lie neglected ia the
bottom OF the boat-a touching example OF
the iickleness OF human favor.
She fished on TIL nearly dark; even then
the fish were biting so well that she could
hardly prevail on herself TO stop. But the
air was growing chilly, and she knew she
ought to be in the house. SO she resolute-
ly drew in her line and wrapped Ii around
the pole, lowering her feet, reached down
in the boat for the remaining paddle
The paddle wasn't there;
She felt nervously in every impossible
plsce tor the missing paddle, but it was
nowhere to be found. Well, she ,cas 10
nx. Out 10 the middle OF the pond, with
no possible means OF getting TO shore,
Night was coming on rapidly. aud she was
already sh:veIiug with cold. Nobody at
the house knew where she was they would
think she was in town visiting some one.
But the house wasn't very tar off-maybe
they could hear her il she called out very
loud. She rose TO her feet, and opened
her mouth 10 give prodigious yell; but
she couldn't speak above a whisper. Her
damp feet and the chill night air had
brought her cold TO this climax.
Lutte sat down, overwhelmed. There
was nothing she could do absolutely
nothing. She would have to stay oat there
all night. and she knew-there was no use
mincing matters-it would be the death of
her. She looked tragically into the grow
ing darkness, and thought. even ii they
came there to look for her, they couldn't
see her from the shore, and she wouldn't
be able TO utter sound to let them know
she was near. She forgot there was such
Il thin. as moon at night.
But stop! she could utter sound-thsnk
Heaven. she could whistle. Her face
frightened as she thought of this despised
accomplishment of hers. With rising spir-
its. she drew her overskirt over her shoul.
ders to keep herself warmer. and began
to whistle Schubert's "Serenade' in her
finest style. The birds started In their
nests as the strange sweet notes floated
toward them. then dropped their drowsy
little heads and slept more sOundly than
ever. Music is q good thing. but sleep is
better-at night.
Whistling Is proverbislly good for keep
ing up ones courage. Late found her
courage nightly refreshed by ii. She sat
there for nearly an hour, whistling every
thing she knew; she even began to enjoy
no