Vermont watchman and State journal. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1836-1883, 1878-06-12

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proach-"I could not sleep iu nv own bed
of luxury, and know that poor Fifne was
languishing there, prey 10 the fever"
If the widow had thereupon offered to
drive to town with Miss Betty and buy for
fihne brand new canopy Miss Betty would
nave put the old netting aside; but she was
at heart very glad that the fine lady offered
no such sacrifice to charity, for she could
not bear to find her altogether perfect
"Ten chances to one, my dear" said the
widow, you'll have your labor for your
pains. These poor creatures are very super.
stitous and queer, and don't know what is
best for them. I've no doubt, in any case,
she has pretended to be sick TO get rid of
some SOM clear-starching for your good mother.
t1fine would rather work at home, so that
she can be with that lubberly lout Of hus-
band of hers. She is the finest and best of
laundresses, and sorry should | be to have
anything befall her but you must not be-
lieve all that these willy Frenchwomen saw"
The color mantled high in Miss Betty's
cheeks as these ISLANDERS fell upon her ears,
and she steadily refused toput her work aside
" You are little goose" said the widow
at length. "AIust | tell you, then that we
shall have some charming company with us2
We are to stop at my house for Mr.. Roake-
there, now, Miss Betty, run away and dress"
| G CnpPE9.
and the needle trembled in her fingers.
You are welcome to your charming COM
pany," she said ." will 60 on with my work
for poor Fine.'
The widow laughed lightly and went
away, leaving Miss Betty to struggle on with
her troublesome task, which was more and
more irksome now that she knew how some
other people were spending their afternoon.
As rent after rent yawned before her, and
her weary little fingers grew less and less
nimble, more than once the question: arose
within her whether it was better to 90 on.
Since nobody cared for her, why should she
care for anybody But her generous heart
conquered all these bitter temptations. and
nearly at night-fall she ran upstairs to slip
on the pretty muslin robe, all smoothed and
crimped by the art and industry of poor
| Fifne. The netting was not heavy bur
den but she carried also a kettle of ice with
her and pot of jelly, and went her way.
| AT last through the trees she could see the
chickencoops of Fifne, and soon she was at
the poor woman's bedside. Fiine lay upon
a rude bed in the corner, and Miss Betty
could not imagine how all these mosquitoes
could find it in their anatomy to prey upon
poor Fifine when the fat and unctuous sub
stance OF George was temptingly at hand
| upon the bench outside, where he was enjoy
ing his evening pipe She stopped over the
sick woman, and said softly, " | have brought
| you some ice, dear Fifne."
@ All, my angel my angel of light % said
! Fitine thou hast of hearts the most merci-
| full; but, alas can not have the ice. l
am too cold already, my little one. There
is cold hand at my heart. No, no; | can
| not have the ice."
"Very well, Fifne," said Miss Betty, put
| ting down the kettle which had been such
| nuisance TO her, you shall not be troubled
with the ice; but here is some jelly"
"Ah, my blessed one ~ cried Fifine, thou
art like a saint from heaven but talk not
to me of jelly. They have given me of jelly
many years ago, after some bitter medicine,
and have since that time no hunger for
| Jelly. All, my rose of the wildwood it
makes me sick to think of it,"
"Then do not think of it, Fifine," said
Miss Betty, putting aside the jar, that had
grown heavier and heavier at every step of
| the journey. " But those dreadful mosqui-
| toes, they are devourng you"
"Ah yes, my adored one, they are demons
| without mercy they have drawn all the
blood from my body, and their dreadful
song is madness to my brain. But rest
tranquil; death will soon end my misery"
"But see here, my poor Fifne," cried Miss
Betty, exultingly, unrolling her precious net;
"now you can sleep in peace. We will
spread this over you, George and |, and not
one of the monsters can reach you. See, my
poor Fiine, we will draw this over you-so;"
and suitng the action to the word, Miss
| Betty pulled the net over the high post of
the bedstead, when suddenly terrified look
upon the sick woman's face stayed her hands,
and she cried out 10 Fifne, in dsmay,
" Don't you want the net over you, Fifne Z"
All, life of my life |" said Fifine sit is
sad, it is terrible | know not how to deny
thee, after all thou hast done for me; but,
oh, my little one, | cannot have it over me.
| have tried, for thy dear sake, to bear it.
told myself that would say no word against
it-at least till thou vert gone, when George
could pull it away-but l cannot even for
one little moment. All, my angel, wait un-
til | am dead, and then they can draw over
me the pail, and put candles at my head and
feet, and do with me what they will but
while am yet alive | cannot be treated like
a dead body"
Miss Betty said no further word of en-
treaty or remonstrance, but let the miserable
himsy thing fall out of her hands upon the
floor; and having smoothed Fiine's pillow,
and held some milk to her lips, and promised
to come again in the morning, Miss Betty
took the woodland road home again.
1t was now quite dark and big shadows
seemed to threaten every step of her way.
Her heart was heavy within her, and her poor
little feet seemed scarcely able to carry even
her light weight along. What wretched,
abortive attempt had been hers to alleviate
the misery of poor Fifne 1t was as the
beautiful widow had said, she had had her
labor for her pains-the beautiful, mock
| ing widow, who was no doubt riding home
through the glooming with the parson.
| AT that very moment Miss Betty heard the
| tramping of hoofs behind her, and stepped
aside to let the lightlimbed pony of the
widow pass by. The basket sides of the
phaeton were filled with wild flowers, and
the white hands of the minister held bunch
of shy, sweet forget-me-nots, as blue as Miss
Betty's eyes.
The widow drew up her pony, and bade
Miss Betty get in by her side, lest the hob
goblins of the wood should devour her but
the young girl stoutly refused, nor would
she be coaxed from her decision.
| 81 am not afraid of hobgoblins," she said,
thinking in her heart there could be none SO
greedy and rapacious as the widow herself.
"Now what is to be done with this OBJ
stinate child ?" said the widow, The min
lister had long since leaped from the wagon
and approached Miss Betty; but she turned
her back upon him, perhaps to hide the
tears of wretehedness which were falling
out of her eyes.
"Pick her up and put her in here by me-"
said the widow al am myself little
afraid of the satyrs of the wood. Come
child do not be goose and get jealous of
your grandmother The gentleman there
has gathered pretty nosegay of forget-me
nots for you that were left over from spring.
We have been looking for you far and wide,
and he has done nothing but talk to me of
his love for you till am sick of the refrain"
Betty turned a sweet, melting glance be-
hind her In twinkling the minister had
lifted her to the widows side, and forgot
to take his arm away. 1t was quite dark,
and the only star that shone in the sky was
that of Venus. They drove rapidly on, Miss
Betty's heart humping in unison with the
hoofs of the pony.
al told you," said the widow, "you'd
have your labor for your pains. We stopped
at Fihnes. The poor creature was full of
alteration for you. She called upon every
saint in the calendar to shower blessings
upon your head. She said that you had
brought her some beautiful ice and some de-
licious jelly, and net that was wonderful"
But she refused them ALL said Betty.
"Ah, yes" replied the widow "but
George did not refuse them. lie had chopped
| mn the ice in his milk and had snraad all