St. Johnsbury Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1867-1919, 1882-06-23

with their cares and interests and theiI
pleasures, while he lived only in The
Invention.
But the trouble of it was that IT did
not live. Carefully as he had fashion
ed it, yet some little thing was still
wanting. 1t all but lived, surely. A
man less sanguine or less patient
would have given it up long ago; but
Roger Faithful labOred on, he would
give it up, he said to himself, only
with his life.
He had resumed it after his wife
died, meaning to justify her faith in
his genius but it seemed that every
other tender sentiment had died out of
his heart now, and he wanted to sue
ceed for his own honor and glory only ;
and in such motive there is but little
cheer.
Maggie, scant of food and clothing,
and shut out from all the joys of youth,
was happier far than he ; for she was
living for something outside of her
self-lived to keep her promise to her
mother, and do her mothers last bid
ding faithfully. Saints and martyrs
have been made out of such stuff as
Maggie.
She never complained, but some
times it vaguely dawned upon her IA
ther that dry bread and a bit of cheese
were not such meal as most girls sat
down to, and that the house was as
cold and bare as it was clean. At such
times he would say,-
"Wait little my girl. | wouldn't
keep on if did not feel certain that it
lCW come some day. You know your
mother felt sure Oft. | don't want to
give it all up and settle down as just
Il wOrking-man, to the end of the
chapter. The things got to go. And
then you shall make up for hard times.
You shall have all the good things
that money can buy. Only just wait"
And at last the mother had been four
years in her grave under the hill and
all that time Maggie had been patient,
and had scarcely let herself think that
it was hard. She was only seventeen !;
but she had been so long accustomed
to managing everything that she
seemed to herself, and to others, too, IA
great deal older than that.
On the special November day of
which am speaking, Il young man
came from the work shop on an errand
to Roger Faithful. Some very import
ant work needed Rogers skilled hands,
and would he make it Il point to come
tomorrow This was the superin-
tendent's message and Robert Keith
went to the wOrkrOOm up stairs,
where The Invention abode, to deliver
it.
He had been here often before and
somehow he had grown very fond OF
Maggie. Perhaps it touched his pity,
ut first, to see her cut off from all the
pleasures of other girls, all the life and
brightness that belong to youth, and
yet always so sweet and patient.
Then Maggie, in spite of all the
cares that had weighed her down, was
very pretty girl. Perhaps | have
forgotten to tell you of the dark,
bright eyes, and the heavy dark hair,
and the sweet face, clear as moonlight
if as pale, that made Maggie Faithful
il girl to be noticed and remembered
but, if have failed to speak of them
Robert Keith had not failed to notice
them.
This morning it seemed to him that
the fair face was paler than its wont
He thought to himself that she would
die, as people said her mother had
died, for want of little happiness.
Oh, if she would bit let him make
her happy! He spoke, rather abrupt
ly,-
~ am twenty-four, Maggie, and OIL
the first of January | shall have Il rise
Pm to be foreman i'll the wheel-rOOm
and I'm sure of good wages"
"Fm very glad" Maggie said, cor.
| daily, and yet as one who had no rea
concern ~ the matter. at is very
nice to have so good a chance at TWEEN
ty-four."
"But you don't understand, all | cart
| is for you. These two years back Eve
been waiting for this day to come, Sc
could ask you to be my wife, and tC
come out of this dark place into th'
sunshine.n
His very words seemed to cause tn,
sunshine of which he spoke to glow
warm as June about poor Maggie. Sh'
forgot how drearily the November rain
was falling. 1t was as if she were in ;
wide place, where birds sang, and tn,
fresh wind blew, and summer was il
| the air.
All the youth and brightness she haC
never known seemed suddenly to have
come to her, as the sudden red haC
come into her cheek, and the suddeI
light into her eyes. She trembled lik'
II wind flower on which the sprin:
wind breathes. Then, through thi
summer of her heart she heard the mo
nOtOnOus dropping of the Novembe
| r1in-bpar1 and rpmem berpU
81 never thought" she began shyly
the words stumbling little upon he
lips.
"No, dear, | know you have no
thought but | want you to think, anC
when | come again to tell me. SOM
one else can do all for your father tha
you do, and l want yOu and nObOd.
else can do for me-"
And then he went away, and tn
birds stopped singing in her thoughts
and the sense of warmth and joy ant
brightness was gone, and the rail
rained on.
Then Maggie sat down to think
Above all things she must keep he
promise to her mother. Could any on
else do for her father all she did
Would any one else be cOntented witt
the chilly, bare poverty of that life
with scanty food and scanty fire
She could bear it, because she ha,
faith in her father, and because sh
had promised her mother ; but VIII
else could take her place
And yet, sweet had been that visio
of sun-lit paths-of the warmth an
youth and brightness that all her life
so far, she had missed. Must she fore
go it all
With some strange courage born {
her longing, she went up stairs into th
room where her father worked and 1h
Invention waited the final touch tina