The true northerner. [volume] (Paw Paw, Mich.) 1855-1920, 1882-11-24
"LITTLE JANET"

l.
doubt if any one could have exactly
told 1t was not because she was small,
for she was quite up to the average size
of womanhood. Perhaps it may have
been on account of the child-like inno-
cence, which seemed to cling to her, al
though she hid passed her 25th birth
day. aud was what is termed an old
maid-a something that never seemed
to trouble her in the least.
One or two well-to-do farmer Of the
neighborhood had offered themselves in
marriage; but Janet, wi Ii manner
peculiarly her own, managed to dismiss
the lovers while retaining the friends.
Other thoughts were stirring within her
mind. Thoughts of broader, nobler
life, that might perhaps be hers, if she
only knew how to reach it, Not that
she W rs Disconnected. She knew that she
ought to he very happy-and she was;
for hers was sunny nature.
For fifteen years she had dwelt un-
der the old gable-roof farmhouse, the
home of her uncle and aunt, and had
been to them as n daughter. They
had taken the orphan one not only
into their home but into their
hearts, and the little Scotch lassie
grew up among these staple village
folk as pure and as bonny as the wild
flowers that nestled their wee heads in
the heather around the mountain home
OF Janet's early childhood.
She never forgot that home, or the
words of the father who was SO loving
and wise and taught his "wee bit lassie,"
as lie used often to call little Janet,
many things far beyond her years.
For some three months Janet had
shown unusual interest in the mail, and
had even paid frequent visits to the viii
lage postoffice herself.
1t was on one of the warmest after
moons they had had that summer that
Janet presented herself once more at
the little window where the Postmaster
dealt ont the letters, the rest of the
store being devoted to jars OF lollipops,
.jawbreakers, peppermint-st cks, castor
oil, ginger bread, cookies, pipes, tobac-
co, etc.
"No-a, guess theer bean't nothin',
Miss janet" slowly drawled old Mr..
Steel, adding rather moro briskly:
~Why! yes, theer be. It's from New
York, tew. Yer bean't got beau out
theer, have yer, now, Miss Janet? That
Sam must ha took it out when | was
over ter Bingley's. Miss Janet Dean,"
continued the old man, as he turned
the letter slowly round, eying it from
all quarters, "that be you an no mis-
take. Guess yer got bean after all"
At last, almost reluctantly, the letter
was handed to it's owner, and old Mr..
Steel looked rather disappointed as
Janet, with:
"Thank you, Mr.. Steel" turned
away, the letter still unopened in her
hand.
Janet's feet seemed to fly over the
ground, until safe within the shelter of
the Woods which ski ted the village.
There, throwing herself down under
the shade of venerable oak, she has
lily broke the seal; as she did so, some
thing futtered to the ground.
With little cry of delight Janet
picked it up. 1t was so bill. Ten
dollars oil her own, and best of all
earned by her own hands and at the
thought a ripple of laughter escaped
from between Janet's pretty teeth.
Then, bethinking herself of the letter,
she opened it and read that the edi or
of SprighHy's Magdzine was pleased
to accept her poem, entitled "Dinna
Greet" for which he inclosed $40
Would like to hear from her again, etc.
Over and over again Janet read the
words that had brought her so
much pleasure. At last one of her
poems bad been accepted.
When would it be published, she
wondered, and how would it look in
prist2 Was its acceptance mere ac-
cidental piece of good luck. like the
finding of coin in the highway, which
might never occur again? or might she
indeed hope hereafter to make living
by her pen?
How pretty the woods looked this af-
ternoon, and how cool they were after
the hot, dusty road.
Some one else thought so, too, as he
turned into their shady depths.
What was that? And Janet started
10 her feet. M the clear, rich tones of q