The Sentinel. [volume] (Trenton, N.J.) 1880-1882, 1881-04-30

without my cup of tea. I had meant to
have dug few bushels of potatoes and
got Mr.. Denvers horse to go to obtain
some of the things / cannot get along
without, but 1 am good for nothing
good for nothing!" with profound
sigh.
"Neyer mind, aunt, don't worry. I'll
see what can be done in the morning"
And next forenoon, about 10 o'clock,
with hoe swung over her shoulder, and
a half-bushel basket in her hand, in
which reposed half-dozen potato bags
and dainty repast done up in news
paper, she trudged to the potato lot, to
see what could be done for the widows
niece, Garnet Embers, was girl equal
to any emergency. She was a slender,
graceful girl, neither blonde nor bru-
nette, but combination of both, as
pretty creature as one would care to
see, with her wonderfully fair complex
ion, tinged with the merest flush of pink,
her dark eyes, almond-shaped, and full
of vim, Swallowed by black, curling
lashes, and superb abundance of red
brown hair, coiled low on her we'll
shaped head. She had donned dun
hued calico dress, which she had fastened
up on all sides to keep clear of the dirt,
thereby displaying foot arched and
slender as an Arabs and over her head,
hiding her wondrous hair, was one of
her aunt's sunbonnets, making her look,
as she declared, regular guy. She
reached the lot and set to work in earn
est, but somehow she made little pro-
gross. Oh! If some strong handed mas
culine creature were but around! What
short work he would make of that Job.
At this juncture the report of gun
sounded near. and Garnet looked up
| just in time to see chipmunk, running
along the fence dividing her lot from
Mr.. Denver's, topple over and an instant
after a man in gray, muscularly framed
and handsome as Apollo, with wide
sombrero shading his face, appeared in
sight. How propitious the fates were
What she had devoutly wished for
was yonder-a man. Mr.. Denver's
hired man, without doubt. She sus-
pended operations, and with her hoe
raised aloft, cried out:
"Here, young man, come here! /
want you to help in digging a few
bushels of potatoes. will see that you
do not incur Mr.. Denver's displeasure
by doing as 1 desire. And, indeed,
for that matter, you might as well be
working for me as to be idling
away your time in killing harmless
creatures. Come, what do you say?'
"All right, miss Til be with you as
soon 1 can exchange my gun for hoe,
for l suppose you intend to keep on
digging?"
Certainly. Now don't be long about
it. That's good man.
She was earnestly digging way when
he vaulted over the fence and stood by
her side, hoe in hand, his hat lower
down on his face than ever. But
Widow Darley's niece paid no attention
to his personal appearance. He was
nothing but a hired man, so whether
ugly or comedy what mattered it to her I?
Old Sol, an infamed ball of heat, glow
cred upon them savagely, and the per
spiration stood in beaded drops upon
their faces as they toiled on, Mr..
Denver's hired man making no better
progress with his row of potatoes than
Garnet with hers. The girl glanced at
him contemptuously.
Sc You don't succeed any bett er than I
"a girl, You are the greenest hand at
digging potatoes I ever saw. Mr.. Den
yer IL not keep you long, I know"
perhaps not" he said, in non
chalant way. Is I am green hand at
it, I acknowledge, but I guess I can
learn after a while. See, miss, if I have
done my work WE'LL"
"Oh, my p' she cried out, vexatiously,
how stupid-how very stupid you
are +! You have not got the potatoes
half out of the hill, and those you have
hauled out are well-nigh chopped to
pieces by the hoe. You WELD that
instrument as if it were your intention
to mutllate, to destroy. You need dig
no more p
SWELL" leaning contentedly against
the hoe-handle, and wiping the perspir-
alton off his forehead with the daintiest
of white handkerchiefs, from which
emanated the perfume of violets, " what
next shall do? Issue your commands,
Miss-Miss"-
Embers, young man, and an espe.
cial friend of your master, Mr.. Denver
Well, as you do not manage the hoe
adroitly enough to be anything but
detrimental to auntie's potatoes, you
may as we'll take the half -bushel basket
gather them up and put them in the
bags They are peach-blows, and are
sure to bring an excellent price in the
market; Mr."
She stopped and eyed him narrowly
for the first time, styling him remark
ably handsome and distingue- looking
person for a hired man.
"You may call me Bob,' he said, will
comical grimace. "Mr. Denver call.
me that"
"Well, Bob, to work Don't lag, and
when noon comes you may share my
, lunch with me under the apple tree"
Quite an inducement. A feeling O
righteousness came over him, and he
fairly shook with laughter. Was he
laughing at her? Garnet drew herself
{ up proudly, spark of fire in her big
dark eyes.
, "What makes you laugh so immoder
ately, Bob? It is not polite of you, and
; shall certainly report your ill-behaviol