Northern tribune. [volume] (Cheboygan, Mich.) 1875-1885, 1882-03-11

watching the rich cream drop into the
small stone pitcher from the big spoon
Hetty was using,
NO" answered Hetty, 81 don't make
butter. We have but one cow, and she
gives only milk enough for the children
TO drink at supper"
you've just the hand for butter"
said Mrs. Day, admiringly. 81 wonder
you don't get another cow. You've fine
dairy down by the spring and big
clover pasture, and I'd be proud to teach
you anything you wanted 10 learn about
Metty, when she was alone in her
room that night, thought of what Mrs.
Day had said.
"A nice hand for butter?" she NUT
tered, a bitter smile creeping over her
lips.
swell, suppose it's wicked now to
even dream of its holding an artists
brush. l had better make the best of 1T
on butter"
The more she thought of Mrs. Days
advice the stronger became her desire to
own another cow. And at length, in or
der to crafty this desire, she concluded
to part with handsome chain and lock-
ct, which had been one of the many gifts
her father had made her in his days Of
prosperity. She sent it to Will to sell for
her, and in less than week she re-
ceived postal order for fair amount,
though less than the chain and lOcket
had cost; but Hetty did not feel that she
had made the sacrifice in vain when
with the money thus obtained she pur-
chased two sleek cows and number Of
new and shining milk pans.
She was delighted with the result of
her first churning, and to make the but
ter look tempting to her mother, she
moulded it with knife into exquisite
heads, trying to make each portrait
and she succeeded tOlerably.
Mrs. Day looked at the heads in ad-
miratiOn and astOniahment.
Who'd have thought you were SO
clever?" she said. you'd better sell
your butter instead Of eating 1t. Pretty
butter sells high to city people, and it's
pity to waste so much work on humble
people,"
Hetty laughed at the idea of selling
her butter, but nevertheless was i'm
pressed by it.
Every time she churned she became
more proficient in making the portraits
and took such delight in the dairy that
| half her time was spent there, where the
dropping of the water of the spring
made music in her ears, and the faces of
poets, authors and singers, as she knew
them from their photographs, grew un-
der her hands.
| When the county fair was held, in
October, Mrs. Day persuaded Hetty to
| put some of her butter on exhibition, and
to her great surprise and delight the
"butter committee" awarded her the
first prize above all her competitors, and
publicly praised her artistic talents.
Mother" she said one day few
weeks later, coming into the room where
Mrs. Arden sat sewing, 81 believe | am
going to make a good deal of money out
OF my, butter. Mr., Depew, who keeps a
commission store in the village, has
| just been here, and has engaged to take
| all the butter can make for forty cents
pound. He says the half dozen pots he
sent to the city last week sold within
twenty minutes after they were put
on the counter in his partners provision
market.
Arden. mo mother ever had better,
drawer daughter"
The tears started to Hetty's eyes at
| tllcSt V6lucl WOluo, duu oIiO lClV UuC
room that her mother might not see her
emotion. She rebuked herself that she
had never rebel!ed against the fate
which had sent her to the farm.
perhaps, after all, may not disap-
point father" she whispered to herself,
as she fell asleep that night. 81 may
really do great things, even though my
sphere Is so narrow"
The fame of Hetty Arden's butter
soon spread far and wide, and people
came many miles to see the young artist.
More cows were bought, woman hired
to do the heavier work of the dairy, and
Hetty made money faster than her wild
est hopes led her to expect.
Two years had passed and she had
saved enough to warrant her in leaving
the farm in charge of Will, who found
dairy work more to his taste than clerk
ing in city store.
With heart glowing with bright an
ticipatiOns, and strong and steadfast
courage, Hetty sailed over the ocean to
Italy, the land of her dreams.
and to think" she said to VIII as
they were parting on the wharf, that
after all, ventured on that artistic ca
reer of mine without ever knowing it.
How glad am that ] made the best of
what talent ! had when we moved on the
farm"
A year has passed since then, and Het-
ty is still in Italy, giving every evidence
that she will accomplish the "great
thin Cov har fothar nynaefad of hor