The Worthington advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1874-1908, 1879-10-16

They yield them, one by one,
To the light breeze and shower.
To the soft dew, cool shade, bright sun,
Time and the hour.
GOLD AND GILT.
In EARLY SPRING.
She was 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, Woodworking young
fellow-was rather waste Of time, and
that marrying HIM would lie altogether
throwing herself away.
Her reflections came to an end at the
door of Mcssers. 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
20, she found that the shower which had
threatened for some time was coming
down with a vengeance.
"Oh, dear!' she said. "and I have no
umbrella
"Wait here few minutes, miss; it will
soon be over" said the smart young
man; and then, having accepted his offer
of shelter, Mary found herself after
minute or two thinking that he was "a
very nice-looking young gentlemtn" as
she afterward described him to the cook,
and that he had beautiful hart was so
nicely curled-and he hail a little dark
mustache, aud wore such pletty blue
necktie; oh! he was very nice-iooking
indeed.
care you Mrs. Poole's sister2" he asked
after few minutes conversation. Mary
flushed as she replied truthfully-for she
was far too good girl even to equivo-
| cate--that she was not such distinguish
individual, but only the housemaid and
nursemsid combined. And then he ask
ed what her name was; and with ano,h-
/ er blush she told him that it was Clara,
but Mrs. Poole said it was too fine name
for a servant and so called her Mary.
II shall call you Clara" he said
| ''shall II" he added, with an appealing
glance. Mary felt her heart beat faster;
something seemed to tell her that her des-
tiny had come; aud 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?"
"Sometimes," she said, softly.
"Will you go for walk with me next
time9"
sit wouldn't be right; you are quite a
stranger, YOU see,' she answ cred, slowly.
ooh! we'll soon get over that, you
know. Perhaps you are engaged thong h?"
Mary's inconvenient heart gave thump
for here was good practical question,
which showed that he meant business
!. e.. matrimony.
mo, I'm not but I'm wanted to be-"
Not a very lucid answer but he un-
dersteod 1t.
"Who to2" he asked, coaxingly
"Well, perhaps oughtn't to say his
name,' she answered, slowly; tor in this,
the most important moment of her life,
as she felt it to be, words seemed almost
to fail her.
'What is he2''
"He-he's 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 ssWell
of course, if I'm not better than a car
penter-"
! "Oh, you are; you are, sir" said Mary,
in her excitement putting out her hand,
and resting it fer moment on his
sleeve.
Mary lost her heart to the smart young
man with the blue necktie and the we'll
oiled hair. He never said anything more
Definite thanshe said that first day: but he
was always ready to take her out, and
most particular about hel dress; and the
result was that all her little hoard Of saw
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 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 0or so the smart young man
was calleD suggested, while she walked
about with her fine sweetheart.
HE is such wild little fellow; 70.
, 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 week
income. No answer came, save that hel
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; hel
, work was neglected, her money spent
her place in 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 bis
lips:
! "Oh! do, do,' she said, and GOV,
ering her face with her hands, let hel
head droop down upon his shoulder.
: n.-AFTER THE.sUMMER.
81 II hate school," Frankly Poole inform
| ed her one morning, as he sat on the ia
: BILE while she sewed button on his trou
sers. ~ should like to be sailor.'
"Goodness! Master Frankly, what:
put that into your head?'
ooh! nothing; only Tom Dawllsh wa.
telling me about 1t; what they did IL
wrecks, you know, and all that I shoult
. like to be on raft, should;'' and h.
! drew his naked toes up on the table ani
=. wriggled them about at the thought O.
the great thugs he would do. "Tom'
!, coming to-day, heard mamma say so
! and if he isn't gone when come bacl
: this afternoon, I shall ask him NOR
= about it."
"1'd tel! him not to 60 filing the child
! head with sucn nonsense, only I don
: want to get in his way" Mary thought
a But somehow Tom got into her way tina
=. afternoon.
"Look here, Mary" he said; II wan
> to speak to you. It isn't that I want Vol