The Russellville Democrat., 1880-05-13

beloved St. Agnes that beautiful hairi
 But the wild rose might as well have been blooming in her native thicket In vain Martie peeped from the front win dows, and held her breath when the door bell rang. No one came to see the gray dress that morning.
 The black dress fared better. It was called upon; and Martie went down to the parlor, with her heart in her mouth, to meet the grand lady whose carriage and dashing horses she had watched as they drew up in splendid style before the house. But, alas Martie was not | experienced, and Martie was too young, and, though madame did not say so, Marty was too pretty, for there was a grown up son in the family, and to set youth and beauty before him in the shape of young goverr ess would be tempting Providence. Madame was very sorry, hoped this and that, and swept gracefully out to her carriage, while Martie mounted with rather slow step to her little four-story room, to watch and wait, and wonder if everybody would find her too young. She was not to blame forit, anyhow, she said to her self, trying to coax a laugh.
 No one else came that day, but the next morning there was an early call for the lady who advertised" Martie was glad she had on the gray dress per- haps she looked older in 1t. But gray or black was all the same she was again weighed in the palace and found want ing-not in years this time, but in Ger man; and as one weary hour after another went by, and no other appli- cants appeared, Martie grew heavy hno x-tr T appear for three days. Two had already passed, resulting only in disappointment. Mrs. Allen tried to encourage her, but when night came, ard the six o'clock dinner, Martie felt sad and homesick hope no one has made arrange ments to carry you of just yet" MT. Raymond said, as he took a seat beside her at their end of the long table. "No," said Martie. "No one wants me. Pm too young, and 1 don't know German" And big round tear rolled over into her teacup. in that, 1 assure you," said Mir. Ray mond. "I know people who would not find fault with you on either score"
 Then he went on talking to her in such pleasant way that she soon became in- terested, forgot her troubles and the tears in her teacup, and was as merry as though she had been older and had known German.
 MT. Raymond stayed down stairs until 10 o'clock, read aloud an old-time fire. side story, and kept the ball of eonver- sation rolling in such pleasant channels that the evening was gone before Martie knew It, and in spite of all her disap- pointment it had somehow been the pleasantest one she had spent there.
 The next morning a lady came to see Martie in behalf of her mother-in-law, and Martie engaged to go on the follow ing day to see the place and people.
 There was no poetry about Mrs. My rick. She was pure, unadulterated; wanted her girls to have good, strong education-no jimcracks, no turin lan- guage to jabber in. She was willing to pay good wages-would give governess f20 year and her board; but she mustn't expect much waiting on. They didn't keep any servants-didn't need any, pity 'twould be if two hearty girls like hers couldn't do their own work.
 Poor Martie. She would not say no at once, because this was, thus far, her only chance; so she promised to gIve an answer soon, and went back to her room praying heaven to send her something better.
 She thought her prayer was answered when gentleman called that evening, talked with her about his three little girls, and seemed well satisfied with the modest account she gave of herself. He was very particular about music, how ever, and would be very glad to hear Miss Woodbridge play. Their interview had taken place in the kindly shelter of the quiet little reception room; but the piano was ill the big parlor, and in their the professor and the Rev. Paul Apollos were discussing earth and heaven. The Colonel was stalking about, showing off his martial figure; the young bride, by the side of her new lord, was holding court in the midst of a lively circle of callers.
 Shy, bashful Martiel how could she play before all these people? Poor, timid little wren, that had just crept from un- der the mother-wing and flown out of her nest. Could she show what sweet music she knew how to make with a crowd of listeners?
 There were none of the airs and graces of the music-pounding young woman about Martie, as she dropped down upon the piano stool and took a moments grace before entering upon the dreadful ordeal. Twas no use waiting, but oh, if the gentleman would but sit down! Why will he stand beside her and watch her poor frightened fingers, as they trip and stumble, give wild jump for a dis tant note, miss it, make dive for one octave and light on another, and at last lose their way altogether and go on chas- ing their way up and down the key board. Martie knows the piece she is trying to play as well as she knows her name, but it all flies out of her head and slips away from her fingers, and she ends at last with finale of her own lmpro- vising, feeling her hair stand up straight on her head as she does it.
 The gentleman was much obliged" left almost immediately, and Martie, in state of grief and modification, was rushing through the hall, exclaiming. with sob, as she covered her face with her hands, "What shall do?" when she was suddenly stopped at the foot of the stairs by Mir. Raymond.
 My dear child" said he, "don't take it SO to heart. Pye heard you play that piece before, and thought how well you did it; but of course you couldn't play with all those people staring and listen ing. The man was brute to ask you to do it."
 "Oh, no; it's who am such simple ton," said Martie, "but you are very good to me" and she hurried up stairs.