The New Bloomfield, Pa. times. (New Bloomfield, Pa.) 1877-188?, 1881-12-20
Pretty Jane and the Pediar.
CONTINUED.

CONTINUED.
A ND how busy was the happy girl
IA with her preparations. What gaily
dyed woolen coverlets; what soft, fleecy
blankets, what elaborate patch work
quilts, were packed in the capacious wal
nut chest that had been provided for
their reception what we'll bleached and
nicely sewed bed d-linen, what delicately
fringed tablecloths and napkins, cum
ningly marked with her initials in red
and blue cotton, or, when their texture
was something to be proud of, with her
name in full, what dainty wearing ap-
parel lay, in snow-white and glossy
piles, in the case of drawers which tow
cred to the ceiling of her little chamber
In this apartment, one afternoon of a
sweet summer day, she sat near the win
dow which opened upon porch, run
ming along the front of the cottage.
tambouring, with fine flaxen thread Of
her own spinning, the transparent mus
lin that was to be her wedding-robe.
Her mind was SO thronged with pleasant
thoughts that though step sounded
upon the porch she did not hear it, but
when shadow from without fell upon
her work, she started in trepidation
from her seat, for with modest reserve,
which, in those days, was neither ridi-
culed nor condemned, her bridal outfit
was kept sacred from any but some
rarely privileged eye. She turned toward
the window, and saw before it a stranger,
a tall, powerfully made man, with
high flush of health glowing upon his
cheek through the olive tint which
otherwise would have seemed to shade
too darkly his bold, but well formed fea-
lures. His dress was rich and snowy,
and of style quite new in that remote
settlement, while the heavy whiskers
and slight mustache, then not natural
lied among us, gave him more the aspect
of foreigner than denizen of any sec
ton of the country. The manner of
upon her, was not less novel to Jane,
and it was with some effort that she
composed herself to await his commands.
"This house had once an occupant
named Slade, the Widow Slade, !" said he,
slightly raising his fine beaver from his
thick, black hair; ''can you tell me if
she is alive and if so, is she still here ?"
Jane gave brief affirmative, and hur-
ried out to call her mother from the
kitchen, a new apartment which had
been added to the main building, while
the stranger sauntered familIarly into
the sitting.room. In a few moments
the widow Joined him, and courteously
invited him to seat.
He threw himself into high-backed
chair, of which the narrow seat
was constructed of interviewer strips
of cloth, and, fixing his dark eyes on
her face, remarked, "You live in flour
ishing country, Mistress Slade; L did
not expect to see such heavy crops in
. your fields, nor SO much of this pretty
trumpery about your houses" and he
carelessly blew upon the floor some of
the broad petals of damask rose which
he had snapped from bush on his way
through the garden.
1--WE think more of beautifying the
outsides of our habitations now, than
when the settlement was new," she re-
piled, quietly; ''as to the land, hard Ia
Dor and long experiencein tilllng it have
made most of it yield well. have had
good crops on my little farm for several
years, but not any equal to what is now
in prospect
"And the world seems to have gone
especially well with YOURSELF rejoined
the stranger.
"Yes, thanks to Providence! and the
widow stopped her knitting for a mo-
ment with her accustomed devoutness !;