Green-Mountain freeman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1844-1884, 1880-07-28

ther notice from him l felt disappointed.
| His last words 10 me had acted like
powerful tonic. | was determined that
Mr.. Fleming's friend should see nothing
to lind f,ult with in the care taken, and
that | was not sentimental girl, but
a hard working woman. liked my life ;
it was n busy one, and not monotonous.
Tenants were coming and going. All
had little world of their own, into
many of these the janitress was admitted.
had heare from Mr.. Talbot's attend
ant that he was very dangerously ILL.,
was thinking of the sick man one morn
ing, wishing that | could do something
for his comfort, when my door opened,
and, to my astonishment. DR.. Colvile
came in.
Good morning. Miss Ruth. Why,
what II pretty little nest you have here !
With bright colored chintz, birds, flowers
and sunlight, you are 10 be envied
Will you hire this room out furnished?
If you will, I'll be your TENANT and not
waiting f)r an answer he seated himself
in an easy chair; then said: Il have come
to hear the story. Tell the truth, but
spare the love passages. Don't look in
dgnantr
interrupted him by saying that
always told the truth, and that all the love
| had given had been reciprocated.
We'll, well. we won't quarrel. saw
Mr.. Fleming to-day. and he wished me
TO ask you the story of your life and the
why's and the wherefores of your leaving
your country home
MIR Fleming's name was enough. Much
rs | disliked the idea of looking back, |
was afraid to refuse As hesitated for a
moment, scarcely knowing how to begin,
the doctor said: Just tell me of your
home;' and so obeyed.
My nome was away among the Green
Mountains. 1t was fine old mansion.
Overlooking green meadows, through
waters sparkle like silver gems through
sweeping boughs; proud old trees tower
above its roof; hawthorn hedges in
close the yard and gardens and make
sweet the air; high mountains rise in the
distance, their tops hidden in the clouds {;
the village church nestles down in the
valley, with its quaint white tower, Il row
of popars waving quietly in front of it,;
and over the low churchyard wall hangs
the ivy whose leaves never change. D!
how dear is every tree and spot about that
loVeu place.
lhere were io"r Oh uS-iatiler, moIher,
Ben MY mother was my Idol VIII
not altemPt 10 describe her. My iather
was descendent of one of the old con-
vcntioners, stern and cold. do not remem-
ber of ever sitting on his knee or ever
having my arms about his neck; he never
kissed his children. he shut us ont of his
lie cOmpletely-he dld not seem part
OF us But we were happy, mother, Ben
ana |; all our childhood Joys and sorrows
were shared with her. Ben was a gentle
boy shrinking from harsh word or look
IN constant dread OF father anger, while
dih not know what lear was. L thlnk
ltlh"r saw something OF his own nature
in me, and I'LL was about twelve years
old scented to be his iavorltc. Then |
angercd him and was unforgiven to the
End His last act showed that he con
S"rred that had forfeited all claim to
my b'rthright. when heard my fatEer' S
VIII read was the first time for years |
had thought of that occurrence. Then
the scenes came vivdly before me.
1T was on Sunday, ii warm, bright
October day. The trees were flushed with
life; some amber, some ra'dy and others
sun green "! now Pheasant IL was;
ne AR was n',eo WIN aroina'lc scehe Vi
IeaVes' anu my nrother ana L. iorSetIh%
'hat II was oaona'h H. inougntleSs'y s'rayeu
away in'o Ihe orcilaro. we hau Always
sPehC ounoaY "iternooh wiz! WIN ni0tner' 0!I VINO
oy s'nS'nS ny hlhS anu leiilhg Dioie sto-
r,es' p"o ihaue t'lo tl'ne pass huPPlIy'
nuI 'nis oay she was not Wel' ana we
were iel' 10 our own resources iiau 1t
not oeeh ior mother' SUNDAY woulo nave
Ocen day OF perfect misery 10 US rs
ialher insisted upon its Deing day OF rest
we knew lh.t ialher nau io[ol'lueh US
u.,tbin", N $3.50 saon,od ~ nalI 's out
.,n1 ra fTrn1 n,rsoIyos unJor ,ha oIJ
amnlo ,roes 7 moting wres,hs of Leaves
"pG'IR Xxx Ra, ,oi,;nm nf hiS soa i;fa ,h., was 70
onn,a said.e Il ann ol;n,h hottor ,han
.tr' tr,a Kan m.I' tha a,,ar'n, ~ G GiIlon
mo h,, w.s moor @ % oI;mhor - wa,
iauabina @ morrilv # his awtward offnrtS
whsn % ,yithnnt a1v w,rnipg f,,bor anneord d
hafore a Oi ms Iio h"S Ss,;J. .Ron '' comd bere > ,
Ron u,.s ,a,o VIII fr;cht hni oa,na down
;ns,an,I1 WV p''' WIN ''sn'' '"' N"--''
My father had cane with which Inc
struck hum across the lace drawing the
biood-had raised the SUCK ior another
blow, when rushed towards MN, seized
the stick threw 1t as lar as / could stamp
ing WIN rage, ana SAID: HOW dare you
strike nm: 1t was my fault. don
think 1t hall SO wicked to climb trees on
Sunday as 1t IS to get INTO such rage.
why doesn't GOD strike the squirrels ior
playing about! II 1t Is SO wrong'i lie would
teach lnem 10 keep stili'
MY iatner looked AT nm ior moment
then walked towards the house. My
oroVher was lrelnoiihS III consequence
We did not tell mother and as my iatn-
er never mentioned IL again, we forgot IL
altoSetner. Mother wasn't quite well
alter this' though she iived some years.
sometimes suffering intensely, then having
hours OF ease Wheh she was able she
tried to reconcile me TO Tue thought OF her
death, She would say: Darling 1t is
only this poor suffering body that Will be
taken from You. My spirit VIII always be
near you. You re not to grleVe, for you
give me pain. You must stay with your
father anu care Tor hlm'
! 'At nrSt l was perfectly lnconSolaDle