The Russellville Democrat., 1881-02-03

ana ScHullB IONlif2 iHcS-siSco tO Sfdtiu-
 ma.
 90 she went sback to her room to take | them all ofi-all The pretty dress fold
 ed away in a box the pink ribbons hid- i den in their tissue-paper hiding-place,
 the slippers, the fan, the fresh white rose
 buds, all laid beyond her reach, and Fan- l nie, in plain everyday dress, went down l to amuse little Sue and to rock the baby | to sleep.
 Meanwhile Mid was riding conlforta- l bly along in his fathers buggy, whistling little Brown Jug and thinking of Fan nie. He had fastened his horse, and was 1 running up the steps looking handsomer ! than ever in his light suit and becoming necktie, when Fannie opened the door and stood for a moment in awkward [ silence.
 Good evening" said Mid at last, talk | ing off his hat gracefully and wondering not little at Fannie in the brown de- 1 laine and linen collar and cuffs. W "Oh, Nid l am so sorry, but after all
 can't gol" she sorrowfully exclaimed
 Cant gol' repeated Mid, not at all ! prepared for the announcement
 "No; father and mother were obliged | to 20 to grandma, who is sick. hated | to tell you, but there is no one to stay
 with the children but me-" "Where's the grl?" persisted Mid, 10th | to. give up his pretty partner for the eve ning's entertainment.
 Gone" said Fannie, mournfully. s
 "Too badl too bad what a bother" quoth Mid, walking back and forth on the steps and waiting for Fannie, who had disappeared.
 She came back in moment tying to- gether three lovely white buds and a couple of geranium leaves. There, Nid,' slle said, fastening the sweet | bunch in his button-hole, "now go to the
 party and enjoy yourself, only be. sure
 you remember everything to tell me. We are both sorry, but it cannot be helped"
 Thank you for these, Fannie,' said
 he, toying with the flowers. T would gladly bring the party here if l could;
 but as cannot do that may stay and amuse you myself this evening""
 s'The idea!s said Fannie, laughing in earnest now; "be gone, sir" and with a smile and wave of her hand she dis missed him. But when the last sound of the wheels had died in the distance, when the door was fairly shut between her and the beautiful pleasure outside, it did seem hard.
 Little Sue trotted up stairs to her trun- ble-bed, the baby's white lids crept down over his blue eyes, and soon Fannie was alone. She lighted the lamps and began to wander up and down the parlor, and tried, oh, so hard, not to think at all; tried to sew, but the thoughts came fast CT than ever then; tried to play little, but made only discord; and finally took up the "Vicar of Wakefield" and sat down to read. She was just thinking what poky book it was after all, when again came the sound of wheels nearer and nearer. Yes, before Fannie could open the door the bell rang violently, and there stood Mid with little Miss Crab.
 Miss Crab was an old maid who lived at the other end of the village, and did plain sewing, sat up nights with sick peo- pie, and was, in fact, at eyerybody's call and beck As Mid was turning sorrow fully away from Fannie's door, he sud denly thought of Miss Crab, and that possibly she might help him. So, driv- ing rapidly he reached her door just as the good lady was sitting down to her supper. In the fewest possible words he told his story and, without waiting to finish her cup of tea, Miss Crab threw on her shawl, and tying her bonnet as she went, said: "She shall go to the party, pretty dear; I'll stay and take care of the babes myself"
 So there they stood, and it did not take Fannie long to understand it, or to rush up stairs and pull out all the pretty things once more.
 Mid sat in the parlor waiting with such patience as he could muster, while Miss Crab cut fresh rose buds, hurried Al I II slippers, and then throwing light cloak over her, led her down stairs, saying: You look as lovely as peach; now go and enjoy yourself. and hold up your dress when you get in the buggy, so you won't be all in crush"
 Have we time enough yet?" said Fan nie, standing in the parlor door fastening her gloves, in fiutter of joy.
 Oceans" returned Mid, taking out his watch in manly way.
 Perhaps it was the ride and the eve ming air, or perhaps all the excitement she had undergone, but Mid thought he had never seen Fannie look half so love- ly as when she came softly down the Judges broad carpeted stairs, with the slippers on her feet and the rose-buds in her hair And Fannie's cheeks were not paler than her own rosy ribbons when Mid led her up to shake hands with the niece and to speak to the lady and gen. tleman who were giving these young people so much pleasure.
 Now Fannie had never been trained at dancing school, had only danced the polka and gallop at home with little Sue to her mothers simple playing, but somehow the pretty slippered feet fell in to it quite easily, and before the evening was half over Mid and Fannie were l waltzing to "The Blue Danube" with the | best of them.
 Outside the beautiful grounds were gay with Chinese lanterns, that shown from | the somber old trees, and threw their | colored lights down on the smooth lane where Fannie and Mid, with many anoth- | CT happy couple sat eating ices and fruit | at tiny round tables.
 Inside it was all light and beauty, all | music and flowers-fiowers that dropped | from glass vases on the mantlepieees | and blossomed out into notices on the | parlor walls. Delicate flowers were fes- tooned in the folds of the long lace cur tains and hung in garlands from the gilded chandeliers. And through these | flower-dressed rooms, and out into the | conservatory beyond fairy forms danced | and danced to the bewitching music.
 But it was all over too soon, and van | ished like dream of delight.
 As Fannie crept softly up the stairs to | bed, little later, did the clock strike two, or was it three?