Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1881-11-25

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the kitchen, smoking his pipe and chatting
with the laborers after his days work. was
natural and right-he belonged to THAT class
| of people but her son was expected to keep
state with her in the parlor, or in a dignihed
| promenade up and down the tilbert walk. To
this arrangement Gus opposed a passive re-
sistance. When caught and marched of with
Mrs. Penny's hand on his collar, he made no
| complaint, took his book or his pencil, listen
ed TO his lecture, aud rendered obedience so
| long as the maternal eye was upon him; but
! the moment he was released from that stern
| gaze he slipped back, with unimpaired cheer
| funess and with as much perseverance as
moth pursues its own shadow on the ceiling
evidently regarding the parlor existence as
merely parenthetcal.
"He will grow out of it," said Mrs. Penny
when she cautioned her steward not to en-
| courage him in the practice.
! But he did not grow out of it. Even after
his experience at a genteel boarding school,
he would come back to shudder away from
the dull decorum Of the gentlefolks' quarter
| of his home to the cozness warmth, freedom
and fun of the common folks. Gradually,
too, there grew up in his mind painful sense
of his fathers position. II did not come to
| him early, for from his boyhood his father
had always been a quiet good-humored ci-
| pher, and the perception Of strangeness in
conditions rendered so familiar to us comes
slowly. But in him it came surely, and while
he grew more studiously polite with his moth
| er, he grew more and more affectionate with
! his father. He loved to walk around the
fields with him, pick up from him scraps of
natural history and folklore, listen to his
broad but innocent jokes, his kindly gossip
of village affairs.
college will knock all that out of him"
said Mrs. Penny, when she was, with some
| thing Of ratipant Drida oivinu a hint Of her
trouble to the rector. But college did moth
ing Of the kind.
Gus passed through his university career
respectfully, though without attaining any dis
| tinction but he came back to Elmholt with
fixed determination, which he was quite
prepared to maintain, that he would not be
parson.
"Eh, lad" said his father to him one day
soon after he left college, 81 amt fit company
for the likes O. thee. You go and talk to your
mother"
"Ah, you sly old gentleman" answered
Gus, taking his arm as he did so, 'what mis-
chief are you thinking of that you want to be
quit of met have just had very long talk
with mother, and now 1 am coming to have
long talk with YOU"
The old gentleman was ipwardly delighted.
He was immensely proud Of this tall, hand
| some, happy son, such fine scholar and such
1
His pride notwithstanding, the old man
said
''Eh, lad, thou'rt pleasant to me as harvest
to hay-suck" hedge sparrow "but don't'ee
| go for to vex your mother Her'll be like a
dry drock" water course "wi'outen zee yet"
''What a self xilled old boy lis, - said Gus,
smiling. 81 am coming with you, and with
nobody else for have something very par
ticular to say to you"
| S.NU III - i.
me to have thee; but thee mustn't vex the
mother"
That's just what I'm afraid shall have to
do" replied Gus, gravely, "and that is what
l wanted to tell you. You know mother al
ways intended me to be rector of Elmholt?"
Eyes, zartin."
"Well, never shall be. 1 am not going
into the Church"
The old man stopped abruptly, and looked
with awe-struck dismay into his sons face as
he calculated
"Scissors ~
There was a whole world of wonderment
and horror in the exclamation.
NO" said the young man, II cannot do it.
/ have never thought seriously about the mat
ter till quite lately; but, as the time came
near when 1 should have to take orders, 1 was
obliged to look it in the face, and am sure
am not fitted for such position. could not
| lAkt IL up hb u IltIe lTduc Ut DEOIesslOns uO
not feel called upon to censure those who do,
but such course would be utterly hateful to
me. could never respect myself, nor could
l look for respect from others. shall be very
sorry TO vex mother, and if it were a matter
of inclination only, knowing how her heart is
set on it, 1 think-but one never knows-I
think should have given way and said moth
lug about my feelings; but, as a clergyman, 1
should be a conscious humbug and a hypo-
l. Nl.-aE a
even for you"
"What you say is right good, lad, !" said the
old man with unwonted decision. 'Its Grub
bin" food ''to hear thee say it. But it'll vex
your mother more u anything since I've known
she Her'll be wild about it. Don't thee tell
it right out but break it to she bit by bit"
The conversation was earnest and prolong-
ed, but it travelled, as is the wont of familiar
talk very much in q circle and did not 60 be-
yond what has been indicated though father
and son varied the form of expression from
time to time.
Meanwhile Mrs. Penny had been engaged
in most interesting tete-a-tete. An old
school-fellow of hers-now a widow in COM
Portable circumstances with a married son
and two unmarried daughters-had made a
call at Elmholt Farm, and Mrs Penny, who
had lately meditated much on her sons set
tlement in life, with characteristic frankness
| anu ulfeCtueh5, uhu pIOpOScuh udICu DebWceu
him and Mrs. Burrowes' daughter. The pro-
posal met with gracious reception, for Gus
was decidedly eligible young man. The liv-
ing of Elmholt was more than comfortable,
and Mrs. Penny, though not stingy, was fru-
gal, and always lived below her income, SO
that he would inherit from her no inconsid-
cradle property. He was a healthy, good
looking, almost handsome young fellow, frank
and modest, high-sprited, and without par
| f.,fa Apu wall he MI
ed with such a son n-in-law, and Mrs. Burrowes,
who could almost answer for her daughter,
saw no obstacle in the way of the match un'
less it lay in the young mans inolinations.
"As to that said Mrs Penny, 1--WE are quite
safe. Augustus" (she never condescende6
to the abbreviation) has really seen no one
and he has no foolish, romantic notions. A
more charming girl than Marion know he
could not find, and 1 know we have only to
, bring the young folks together, as you and
will manage it, to have everything settled hap
pily-and soon"
Mrs. Penny and Mrs. Burrowes went to worl
with gusto, and when Farmer Penny and hi
son returned from their walk they were still
at it.
But there was an obstacle to the fulhllmen
, of the escheme even more serious than the anti
clerical determination of the young man; ant
Z of this even Farmer Penny knew nothing.
, There had lately come TO the farm, as {
sort of upper servant, a niece of the gooC
farmer bright-eyed, neat-handed, and real
I ly bewitohing young woman. II Mrs. Penny
, had made love-matoh with her steward
she might have suspected mischief here
[ But hers had been merely matter of oonve
nience of the most prosaie kind; the possibil
a ity of Gus falling in love with his father
, niece Alice, had never flashed upon her ever
I ! as a remote contingency. Nor, in truth, haC
it upon the honest old farmer, though, living
: much in the kitchen regions, he had seeI
4 them together far more often than the auto
a crat had done, and had listened to, aud
, laughed at, their bright wit combats which
1 she had never heard.
( And the denouement was destined TO COM
a L., Gnn rirhE