The Wellington enterprise. [volume] (Wellington, Ohio) 1867-188?, 1879-11-20

that promise! All through the short
vacation, so vaguely alluded to rs " in
the summer" they had been together,
Phil and she, gardening at the rate OF
q mignonette seed to twenty minutes
conversation; " botanizing' (heaven
save the mark! Polly hardly knew the
difference between pistil and a pistoD
dawdling at the gate under the pink
sunset till the moon rose shy and sill
very above the pink, and Mrs. Pursalr s
voice addressed them from an upper
window on the subject of damp"
{" trapesing," to use the language of
the, same authority, in wet grass of
evenings to search out glow-worms-
all these and similar pursuits had made
it time of enchantment. Phil was an
old playmate and neighbor; nobody
thought much of their being together,
but Polly thought great deal. And
| the last day of all. when she supposed
him gone, he had stolen away half an
hour before train time, and surprised
her in the cool well room, her sleeves
rolled up, her slender waist enveloped
in a white apron, making pies-all un-
conscious of his proximity. That last
visit stood in bold relief from others;
for, lingering there outside the window,
words had been half said, half looked,
which she could never forget, though,
at the time half frightened. she had pre-
tended not to understand them. And
at last he took to teasing her about the
pies, as she daintily rolled her paste,
and jagged the narrow strips for edg-
ing. Wouldn't she make him one-all
of his own-at Thanksgiving time. for
instance, for he was coming home then?
o, yes, he was sure she would, though
she gave no promise; he should come
in the evening for it. And then the
time came for him to go. And leaning
through the window-Polly colored
now as she thought of it-he had softly
kissed the little brown wrist and de-
parted, his last words being, "I you
love me, Polly, don't forget the pie"
I am afraid it was too late for that "i f."
For, dreadful as it seems, the Pollys
of real life do not always wait, as the
books say they should, until a decisive
word has been spoken before yielding
their hearts. Love comes unsought,
unseen, as the sun comes, or the dew;
eyes ask, and looks ask. Prudence tugs
feebly at the bolt. but her strength is
weakness; open flies the door, and Gu
pid takes possession for bliss or bale.
Which, in our Polly's case, it was to be,
nothing, poor child. Phil loved her,
she was sure. and all the hopeful sky
was bright with early dawn. -
If you love me-" The words so
lightly spoken hummed round her like
a song, as she drew from its hiding
place Phirs pie. Such pie! Crisp as
frost, foam-white, except where heat
had kissed it into brown, with edge so
trinity, SO exactly cut, and middle
adorned with a wondrous twirl of paste
embodying the initial " Pa marvel
Gus pie!-a pie to make the mouth
water, and put an appetite under the
ribs of Dyspepsia Long and lovingly
did Polly gaze on this hef-d 9uvre be-
fore committing it to the topmost shelf
in the pantry, and then, rapidly restor-
ing all to its pristine tidiness, she fled
p-stairs; for there was a hat to be
trimmed, and, housekeeper though she
was, Polly was no less girl-a girl of
eighteen, and what was more, the pref
tiest girl of eighteen in Cohasset. Some
thing was due to this eminent position.
So, shut into her room, she sat ad-
justing the killing little feather on the
new .. turban," turning now and then
to survey the effect in a morsel of look
ing-glass, and by-and-by, as the drifted
gold began to gather round the sunset,
8 sound came on the wind-the distant
shrek of locomotive. The train had
arrived at 9. The Junction." four miles
away. Far above the woods she could
see the dim blue smoke. Down went
she new hat, and lovely smile parted
her lips. That shrek meant-Phil;
and question if Beethoven's finest so-
nata could at that moment have seemed
more musical-so true it is that at times
we listen with an inward ear to which
all sounds are melodious if they suggest
the thing we love.
Phil was come. The thought awoke
with her next morning, and lent its
spring to the many small businesses
which ushered in the day. 1t was for
him she rubbed the crimson apples till
they shone, heaped the grape clusters
SO tastefully, and crowned the vases
with chrysanthemums and gay leaves.
The candles she inserted in the tall,
plated branches should brighten the
room when he entered, the noble hick-
ory logs should warm, the polished and
whole heart to the icing-Phil liked loaf
cake. And if ever the spirit of Lady
Mary Wortley's sentiment was carried
q
room, dinner a dinner-it was now,
when, transmitted by tender alchemy,
the old farmhouse took on higher mean
ing, and Mrs. Pursalrs nuts and apples |
became indeed the refreshment pro-
vided for a beloved one"
All things in order at last, merry |
party set off for church. Father, |
mother, brother James, his wife and |
nhIld-fIrsf nf ha 90, l,-l
gathering-and in the midst Polly. The |
sun shone; crisp leaves rustled under |
foot; in all Cohasset was no blither face |
than that crowned by the new turban,
as our little maid took her seat in the |
gallery front row as one of the village |
choir. How everything seemed to smile! |
She loved the world; she loved the Gov |
ernor for arranging this delightful day
this day which made so many people |
happy; which brought Phil home.
1t was early. The melodeon was
playing low, droning voluntary; the !
green curtains were half drawn-plenty |
of chance for the choir to peep and to |
whisper. a thing all choirs like to do.
+" say, Polly, where did you get that
feather?" asked her neighbor. 81 only |
wish somebody would give me one. It's
just elegantr'
Mother bought it," said Polly, her
eye on the door.
.. Who are you looking for? Your
map There she is now. What a good |
looking woman James wife is, isn't
she?"
al suppose you've heard the news,
Polly?" broke in another whisper from
behind. "The news about Phil Raj
stomp sa ... . .r.
"No. What do you mean?" with
sudden interest.
He came up last night, you know;
and what do you think he brought with
him but wifei The old folks didn't
know a word about it. Wasn'tit fine
Thanksgiving surprise?'