Daily globe. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1878-1884, 1879-10-12
GOLD AND GILT.
LIN EARLY SPRING

LIN EARLY SPRING.
She was a very pretty girl, and she
knew it, aud did her best, in an innocent
sort Of way, to let other people know it;
and she could not help thinking, as she
walked along Feltham road, that keeping
company with Tom Dawlish-who was
Just plain, honest, hard working young
tellow-was rather waste of time, and
that marrying HIM would he altogether
throwing herself away.
her reflections came to an end al the
door OF Messers. Bradbury's office, and
she walked in, wholly intent on the bill
she had to pay. A smart-looking young
man received the money; and when the
receipt was made out and she turned to
60, she found that the shower which had
threatened for some time was coming
down with vengeance.
ooh, dear!' she said "and have no
umbrella"
"Wait here few minutes, miss; it will
soon be over" said the smart youue
man; and then, having accepted his offer
of shelter, Mary found herself after a
minute or two thinking that he was "a
very nice-looking young gcntlemtn' as
SHE afterward described him to the cook),
and that he had beautiful hair-it was so
nicely curled-and he had little dark
mustache, aud wore such pletty blue
nccktie; Oh! he was very nice-iooking
! indeed.
"Are you Mrs. Poole's sister," he asked
after few minutes conversation. Mary
flushed as she replied truthfully-for she
was far too good a girl even to equivo-
cate--that she was not such a distinguish
| individual, but only the housemaid and
nursemaid combined. And then he ask
ed what her name was; and with ano1h-
err blush she told him that it was Clara,
but Mrs. Poole said it was too fine name
tor a servant and so called her Mary.
II shall call you Clara" he said
'shall I?' he added, with an appealing
glance. Mary felt her heart beat faster;
something seemed to tell her that her des-
| tiny had come; and she had no words to
say, so he followed up his successfully
sally with another one: "Do you ever
get out of an evening for walk?r
Sometimes" she said, softly.
"Will you go for walk with me next
time?"
''It wouldn't be right; you are quite
| stranger, you see,' she answ cred, slowly.
"Oh! we'll soon get over that, you
| know. Perhaps you are engaged thought"
Mary's inconvenient heart gave thump
for here was a good practical question,
| which showed that he meant business
S.e.. matrimony.
"No, I'm not but I'm wanted to be-"
| Not a very lucid answer but he IN
derstood 1t.
| "Who to-" he asked, coaxingly.
"Wcll, perhaps oughtn't to say his
name," she answered, slowly; for in this,
the most important moment of her life,
as she felt it to be, words seemed almost
to fail her.
"What is he?:'
"He-he'sa carpenter" Mary never
felt the truth more difficult to tell in all
her life.
"a carpenter" he said in telling tone
Of injury, not unmixed with scorn ''Well
Of course, if I'm not better than a car
| pcnter-"
ooh, you are; you are, sir" said Mary,
in her excitement putting out her hand,
and resting it fer a moment on his
sleeve.
Mary lost her heart to the smart young
man with the blue nccktie and the we'll
oiled hair. He never said anything more
definite than he said that first day but he
was always ready to take her out, and
most particular about he1 dress; and the
result was that all her little hoard of say
ings went in more or less ILL chosen fin
cry, and Tom Dawlish was forgotten.
There was only one thing she refused to
do, and that was, she would not give up
her Saturday afternoons to him. She
had always had to take little Frankly
Poole out for a long walk on that day, it
being his half holiday, and she would
never consent to his being allowed to run
about wild in Kensington Gardens, as
Alfred Hill for so the smart young man
was called) suggested, while she walked
about with her fine sweetheart.
"He is such wild little fellow; no.
body knows what he might do if he had
the chance"
:Ah! you don't care for me-" said the
hero OF the coal merchants office, and
proud recipient Of thirty shillings a week
income. No answer came, save that her
clasped hands made one in their dumb
movement of contradiction. Not love
him! Why, every moment Of the day
was devoted to thinking of him; her
work was neglected, her money spent,
her place in a fair way Of being forfeited,
and poor Tom Dawlish nearly heart
broken, and yet she did not love him!
"Ah! you don't care for mel" he re-
piled artfully enough; for no avowal of
his own feelings had ever escaped his
lips.
sob! do, I do &'o e4id. and COW
ering her face with her hands, let her
head droop down upon his shoulder.
1I-AFTER THE SUMMER.
II hate school, Frankly Poole inform
ed her one morning, as he sat on the ia.
bic while she scWcd a button on his trou.
sers. II should like to be a sailor.''
"Goodness! Master Frankly, what's
put that into your head?'
ooh! nothing; only Tom Dawl1sh was
telling me about it; what they did in
wrecks, you know, and all that I should
like to be on a raft, should;' and he
drew his naked toes up on the table and
wriggled them about at the thought OF
the great thugs he would do. "Tom's
coming to-day, l heard mamma say so;
and if he isn't gone when I come back
this afternoon, shall ask him more
about it.''
"I'd tell him not to go filing the childs
head with such nonsense, only I don't
want to get in his way" Mary thought.
But somehow Tom got into her way that
| afternoon.
| uIQnk here Maru y hn cold. ct x,.ant