The Northern Pacific farmer. [volume] (Wadena, Minn.) 1878-1885, 1880-12-23

Without love or romance life may pass
happily; and months of busy spring, soft
summer holidays, and autumn lingeringsl at
the seaside passed over Rosamonds bright
head, and each season found her happier.
She had youth and health, vivid interests
and steady industry, SO that every thing
that presented itself, work or leisure, study
or exercise, nature or art, found her re-
sponsive to it's call. Time few on rapid
wings, and brought once more the white
pail of winter and the icy blast outer
desolation which only makes warm fires
| glow the brighter, and young pulses beat
the quicker, in the contrast between the
death of nature and the intense life Of
heart and home.
Once more upon. an icy morning Rosa
mond ventured forth, this time with bas-
ket which she wished to carry to one Of the
hospitals. It was visiting day, and she was
much interested in one Of the PATIENTS
| poor seamstress, who in her time of health
had spent many long day in Rosamond's
cozy bedroom, had borrowed many book,
and enjoyed afterward talking over what
she had read with cher young lady," whose
kindness was one of the few bits of sun
shine in limited life.
"Poor Mary" thought pretty Rosamond.
''She shan 1T wait for her wine and book and
flowers. The walk will do me good. But
| if could only hide this basket! do SO dis
pise looking goody." She pulled at her
warm cloak and tried to adjust fold over
| the basket; but in vain. It was more con-
spicuous than ever in its furry surround
! ings, while her manifest desire to conceal it
gave certain guilty look to her innocent
burden.
Why aoiA not young people look where
they are going? Never was step more fear
| less and free, and therefore more safe, than
Rosamond Vane's: but the one moment of &C
| cident or awkwardness comes to all in its ap-
| pointed time. She was still bending her head,
and twisting her seal-skin, when suddenly
everything flew out of her hands, her bas-
ket went off on tanget, her muff landed in
the gutter and she found herself fiat on tbs
pavement. realizing for the first time that
one does not have to go down into we'll to
see stars by daylight.
She tried to struggle up, when suddenly
a strong hand raised and held her, and a
voice, not very we'll known, but we'll re-
membered, exclaimed, 1T is my turn to
help you now"
With flush of annoyance Rosamond
shook out her skirts, Strengthened her hat,
and put the hair out of her eyes; then, look
ing up, met Philip Blount' quizzical glance,
and burst into peal of laughter.
1T is too funny" she gasped, as they
shook hands, and he rescued her mutf, and
picked up the basket. But it's contents!
Jelly, wine, and flowers mingled their
sweetness; and Westward, Ho! pIastered
with snow and sickness, looked as though
it were flowing with milk and honey. The
street was as deserted as on the former oc-
casion; but Philip felt as he ruefully gath
| %1,oI ~,oc %1o<
| ping rosebuds, that the man who could
! walk up any New York street carrying that
| wretched basket, could storm breach or
| lead forlorn hope. Balaklava was moth
| ing to nothing!
However every man can be a hero if he
| chooses. At ARM length he held his drip
ding burden; then turned gayly to Rosa
nond, and said will you take my arm once
| more"
Rosamond was not hurt, not even very
much shaken, after the first moment; but
she took his arm and turned homeward.
Mary must wait till another day; there was
no use in going to the hospital now.
''When did you return?" she asked.
"Only yesterday This is my first walk
in New York. I was just thinking of my
matters SO unexpectedly. Are you sure you
! are not hurt?"
"Not a Bit she said merrily. II know
better than to sprain my ankle. on'tthink,
! though, that I undervalue your succor: it
| requires great strength of mind, if not of
body, to carry that basket"
"That day." he answered, little incoher-
emily, "did we not get each other mutually
into scrape, I wonder? wonder, too,
whether you have heard the last piece of
news from England: AT st. Georges, Han
over Square, Mabel, only daughter of Henry
Braithwaite, Esq, of New York, to- Miss
Rosamond, do you really not know that Fred
Boone is married?"
start Of relief and joy as much as surprise.
IT am very glad" she exclaimed. s'But
do you really mean-is it possible he has
married Mabel?"
even so. was at the church, and
shook hands with the happy pair. Every
thing was strictly elegant, and properly ar
ranged, and they are likely to live in En-
gland for the present.
Their eyes met once more, and neither
could resist a comical smile, although Rosa
mond's color had deepened, and Philip
thought how pretty she looked in her
amused embarrassment. Even now he was
nearly unconscious of what it was that had
pulled at his heart strings as he congratulated
the well-matched pair at st. Georges, and
suddenly resolved, as he passed out of the
church, that it was no time for man to
dawdle away his life in another country when
work, if not happiness, awaited him at home.
Need We go farther? Is it necessary to
state in plain words that this was by no
means the last walk which this young cou-
pie took together? Their intimacy grew rap
idly, and the thread of sympathy which ran
through their fates only broadened and
strengthened with time. And thus it came
to pass that when one day Philip asked,
''Rosamond, will you go through life with
me?" she could neither feel nor feign sur
prise, but said, demurely, though with a