The Somerset herald. [volume] (Somerset, Pa.) 1870-1936, 1882-07-05
FAIR SCHENIERS.

"Mistletoe cried Alma Field.
"Real, dark green, glossy mistletoe
Oh, Frances, where did you find
it?n
The snow-maptled fields were all
crimsoned with the flush of sunset.
Far in the distance old Mount
Washington lifted his white peak
against the steel-gray sky; in the
valley the frozen river seemed turn
ed to a sheet of crystal, while the
woods were full of that cracking,
magnetic sound which often thrills
a leahless copse at nightfall.
And the three girls standing at
the stile had cheeks like roses in the
keen winter air
II found it Just here on the old
broken branch which had fallen
with the weight of the snow" said
Frances Purple, a tail, slight, sol
emn-eyed girl in a dress of shabby
brown merino with dyed ribbons at
her throat.
"Give me some !" exclaimed Mary
Wallace, "to hang over my pillow
tonight. Mistletoe means good
luck, you know, and tonight is st.
Valentines eve"
Nonsense !" said Frances, little
curtly.
Mary Wallace shook back her
yellow curls-she was one of those
graceful, elf-like creatures to whom
such capricious motions are infinite
ly becoming--and laughed,
Alma Field shrugged her shout
ders.
Frances will never marry" said
she.
"No," said Frances Purple, COM
posedly. Il don't think ever
shall"
All this time Mr.. Murray, stand
ing leaning against the stile, had
watched the three bright faces with
a certain grave interest.
"Why not?" he asked, abruptly.
"One reason is because | don't
want to-" Frances answered, with
equal bruskeness.
"Oh, Francesm cried Alma. How
can you tell such shocking stories
right here under the mistletoe ?"
with Mary and Alma it is diff
ferent," said Frances, speaking more
gently, as if she half repented her
former sharpness of tone. 'The
world is softer to them. | am a
working bee. / have my own living
TO earn, and | have no time to spend
in romance"
She took up the dark green clus-
ter of mistletoe as she spoke, and
walked quickly on.
"Poor Frances r said Mary, apol- |
ogetically. ''She is really getting to
be quite grabbed old maid"
''What does she mean by being a
working bee?" said Mr.. Murray, as
he helped pretty Alma over the un-
even stones of the stile.
Didn't Won know ?" said Alma.
'She has taken Miss Tait's position
in the telegraph office. Eight hours
daily and two on Sundays and holi-
days. Isn't it dreadful p'
"But why did she do that?' per-
sisted Murray, gathering up the
scattered sprigs OF mistletoe for his
companions.
Poor, dear Frances always was
peculiar" said Mary.
"And, OF course, wouldn't say a
word against her for the world"
added Alma, artlessly ''but | think
she's little inclined to be avari-
cious."
Rudolph Murray walked with
Alma and Mary as far as the old
red-brick house and there left them,
with some merry allusion to st. Val
entine's morn.
While the two-girls, running into
the house, flung their mistletoe on
the hall table, and came into the
great, low -ceiled sitting-room, where
fire of pine logs blazed upon the
stone hearth.
Frances Purple was there quietly
moving around intent on some
household duty; for the three cou
sins lived with an old aunt whose
means were limited, and there was
no servant kept in the establish
ment.
"Oh, Frances" cried Alma, angri-
ly, why did you tell Mr.. Murray
that you were "A working girl? ?"
Because it was the TRUTH" said
Frances.
"But truth isn't to be spoken on
all occasions" flashed out Mary.
"What will he think !"
Frances bit her lip.
"Why should ! care what he
thinks !" said che.
Isn't it enough to do as you have
done without publishing it to the
whole world?n complained Mary.
Frances is such a strange, odd
girl" said Alma. Il believe she
wants-yes, actually wants-to die
an old maidf'
Il should rather do that" said
Frances, ''than to win husband
under false pretenses.
ats no such thing. if you mean
me-" retorted Mary, stung into sud-
den animation. Papa was a naval
officer-and how is any one to know