The interior journal. [volume] (Stanford, Ky.) 1872-1881, 1878-12-13
rHr SCARLET BrD.

nome InTVubn WV "N"l N''''
on by fair vomsnchild. Of 1.-the ,fg-
ure, and big. dreaming eyes. Her
homely garments were tucked up about
ssupple waist, disclosing a pair OF
dainty feet, bare and damp and white
as snow.fiakes. She drove the lazy,
docile creatures into the inclosure in
front Of the farmhouse door and put
up the rough wooden bars with her
own delicate, tanned hands. q I.f
Then she leaned against the upper
rail and turned her tintless, exquisite
face toward the cloudless yellow west,
where the young moon hung like a
crescent OF pearl guarded by single
star like speck Of white fame.
IL am so weary Of this sort OF life,
she sighed, while ye. she was enchanted
with the serene hush and dusky splen'
dor Of the early twilight scene.
A nightingale swoke in the rich vii.
low shadows bsskle fhe chatteripg
brook, and filed the mellow air With
delicious burst Of song.
As she listepet . harsh, hard yoieeI
aroused her from Bet momentsry e.,
stacy of rest to the grosser duties Of
the time.
"why are you standing there, Ba.
bette? Make haste, with the milking,
will yous What an iindolent chhd
you are, to be sure"
The inquiry, command and reprov.
al, all framed in one shrewish, unlov-
ing speech. came from q middleaged
woman who stood on the threshold Of
the humble parlor door, woman
robed In tawdry silk, but in appear.
ance quite as coarse, and rubicund and
unpoetical ne the scentless peonies that
glowed in row Of red clustres be
tween her and the shrinking object Of
her will.
81 don't know what I shall do with
that lazy gifl,Mr Kenwick, : she said,
apologetically to her one summer
boarder. who looked cut quite ancon'
sciously from a window arch Of vines
as he heard the rasping tones; "My
poor deceased husband-Mr. Faxon-
educated her for q teacher. got her
a school early in May, and two weeks
afieward the trustees asked her to re.
sign, which she did, Of course, liking
her ease too well for her good. am
sorry to say /: ofmy own--but for
smart girl she is the most foolish ev-
err saw. Why, sir, she can read French
and German, Latin and Greek. and
write compositions on subjects that no
one can understand, but they make
the tears and laughter come though,
and yet she couldn't manage a little
school-house full of boys and girls. |
uin dsnitnltt " w.
"How old is she" inquired Roy
Kenwick.
"Why, she is nearly seventeen
quite old enough I'd teach the alpha
bet. | think"
"Quite old enough, certainly, if
,he is gifted with the special talent
necessary for success in that profes.
sion," answered the gentleman, no.
ticing critically the impatient curves
of the sensitive lips, the the nervous
restlessness of the lovely figure, and
the slender, pointed fsger; but !
opine she wonld make a better artist
than teacher. And, by-the.way, where
did you obtain this exquisite little
gent"
He pointed y rough bracket that
held tiny hand carved Of some paly
wood, and clasping an exquisitly
wrought bud of scarlet coral.
"Oh, that is Babette's work" re-
piled the woman, carelessly, ''or Der
play, rather, Tor ever since the child
could use her hands she has delighted
in nothing but bits of wood and chalk
and stone--any thing she can put into
figures with pen.kniie."
"Iou should have made her
sculptor instead of teacher" observ.
ell her auditor, drily.
"a sculptor! | thought sculptor
was man" was the response.
NEARLY always, | admit, but If
woman has been given the genius usu.
ally supposed to belong to a man by
right, why should she not be allowed
to profit by it,"
"Why!" iterated Mrs. FsxOn, with
an air OF a wiseacre, "because she is a
woman and has no business to NEEDLE
with such mattersl"
"But surely that is not womans
work, said Roy Kenwick, with an ex.
pOstulatory gesture toward the inclos.
ure through which Babette was going,
ladened with milk pals, a picturesque
target for the beligerent horns of a
halfdozen vicious yearlings. "Your
Babette is too girlish and dainty for
the toll that belongs to the fsrm-hands.
Give her chance in the parlOr with
your boarders. Put her at the piano,
any thing better than mere chore