The Redwood gazette. [volume] (Redwood Falls, Minn.) 1873-1940, 1880-06-03

Though so dark, is white
BY her light.
Do me this courtesy,
Thou silent rose:
How the rain comes down
In the town.
James H. Morse, in Harper's for Juns.
A SLICE OF BREAD AND BUTTER.
"Dorothy-Dorothy WALDORF scream
ed Miss Lorinda Cross ("cross by
name and cross by nature" the chill
dren-yes, and many of the grown-ups
of the neighborhood declared herr,
as she bounced upon the huge loaf of
bread which she had taken from the
oven and put into the big stone crock
only half an hour ago, just before she
turned her straight-up- and-down back
on the kitchen, to stalk to the garnet
after "that idle hussy, Molly''-the
maid-of-all-work = "who had been
twice as long as she ought to have been
making the beds there.''
said the huge loaf. I should have
said half the huge loaf, for only that
proportion of the newly-baked bread
remained.
dorothy Wal-do-o-o!" again
screamed Miss Cross, in an ascending
scale, with an OminOuS tremOlo on the
last note.
"Yes, aunt" replied a sweet, fresh
young voice; and a pretty young girl
came in from the garden with basket
of cherry-red currants in her hand.
A tiny thing she was, with round,
dimpled, rosy face, innocent chld-like
blue-gray eyes, and fair hair, some
short tresses of which had escaped from
the braid into which they had been
bound, and were making delightful
use of their freedom by curling in the
most charming manner about the low
frank brow and little pink-tipped ears.
About "sweet SIXTEEN" a stranger
would have pronounced her; but Dolly,
as her youthful companions, much to
the disgust of her aunt Lorinda, called
her, was older than that by year and
a half.
An orphan at the age of twelve, she
had been left to the care of the only
relative she knew, her mothers elder
sister-a woman hard in speech and
manners, and anything but soft in
heart. This maiden lady soured irrev-
ocably on her twenty-fourth birthday,
which should have also been her we'd
ding day; but at the very moment she
was fastening the orange blossoms in
her hair had come the news that her
betrothed had eloped with the girl
friend she had chosen for her BRIDE
maid. Lorinda tore the bridal wreath
into fragments, and scattered it to the
winds; never mentioned the false pair
from that hour, banished forever all the
womanly grace and tenderness she had
ever possessed (truth to tell, she had
never possessed much), and became the
hardest worker of her sex that ever
worked upon farm. In a mans boots.
coat and hat, early and late, hot
or cold, wet or dry, with set
mouth, lowering brow and silent
lips, she toiled side by side with her
sturdy old father, until the day he was
struck down by the pitiless sun, and
died few hours Afforded just in
time to be saved the pang of hearing
that his youngest and favorite daugh.
ter was lying at the point of death
widowed and friendless, in far-away
city. Lorinda buried her father-i
she wept for him, none saw her-pro
NOTED man who had been long in hi.
employment to the position she usee
herself to occupy, and started for hel
sisters bedside. When she returned
to Fernville again, she brought deal
little, fair-haired, soft-eyed Dorothy
with her, and some of her neighbor:
fancied that since that time she haG
been shade less stern; but if she haG
been, it was SO slight a shade that il
was almost impossible to perceive it.
True, she did less out-of-door work
and devoted part of the time thus saved
to teaching her niece to sew, and cook,
and churn, and other like accomplish
ments; but never were the lessons &C
companied by an approving smile o
kindly word, much less a loving kiss
Even to the gentle, winning child, Lo
rinda Cross remained a cold, sterl
woman. But Dorothy, God bless her
was so sunny in disposition. that tn,
stern ways and dark face of her aun
could not cloud her young life. Ant
though shut out from that infexibl,
woman's heart, she found the doors o
all other hearts wide open to her. Tn
dogs, the cats, the hens, the chicken
the horses, the cows, the calves, tn
very geese, regarded her with adora
ton. The farm laborers blessed he
pretty face whenever she came anon!
them; and as for Molly-poor, hard
worked Mollv!-she would have kisse
the ground the little feet trod upon.
What wonder, then, that Dan How
ell, the young surveyor, who lived hal
mile away, in the old stone cottage
and whom she had known from tn
very first day of her arrival in Fern
vile (when he, then tall, bright-face
boy of fifteen, passing her aunt's gate
and seeing the sad-looking little gil
in her black dress, standing by it, 81
lently offered her the prettiest whit
rabbit she had ever seen-a rabbit b
had been coaxing Abner Brown for
month past to sell him, and which no,
he parted with :, without anothe
thought, ut sight of those lovely teal
full eyes aud that sweet wistful face
what wonder, say, that he ''thougf
Of her by day, and dreamed of her b
night?'
But to 60 back. Dorothy came smi
ing into the kitchen, her lips and cheek
as red as the currants she carried; bt
the smile faded away when she met he
annt's irate gaze.
Ibid YOU cut this loaf and leave
here in this hot room to dry to a chip
demanded Miss Cross; and then sh
added, emphatically. without waitin
for an answer: "But of course YOU die
No one else would have dared to do <
And how dared goa, knowing that
never allow bread to be cut in m
house until it is at least day old?''
:" am very sorry, aunt" bega
Dolly; "but he looked SO hungryp"
Her screamed her aunt, regar,
ing her with look of horror. "Yo
gave it away then! And to . he
A tramp, I've no doubt, who will CON
back some night, rob the house, an
murder us all"
"Please, aunt" entreated the youn
girl, "don't be 20 angry. He wasn't
tramp; indeed he wasn't; but . ham