Spirit of the age. [volume] (Woodstock, Vt.) 1845-1913, 1882-05-24
DON'T SEE 1T.
or, GATHERING SWEET nRiHR AFTER
FIVE YEARS.

All the mir was fragrant with swee
briar, aud the pale blossoms shonc lik'
stars in the dark green bower made b,
its hanging foliage. Standing IN TIN
bower, her dark curls brushed by The
trailing branches and her hands list
lcssly plucking the starry blossoms
was Amy Ludwick, II pretty country
lass. Her flashing brown eyes were
now dim with unshed tears, and
Grant Burchard, at II distance, studied
the rural picture aud smiled. II was
manlikc to smile, when he noted the
unwontcd quiver Of laughing, ruby
lips, and the unusual dcwcyncss OF
sparkling, dancing eyes, and was con-
fident as of his exislance TINT thoughts
of him had robbed the lips Of their
steadiness and the eyes Of their flushing
brilliancy; and he was right. You
would have known it by the unspokcn
gladness that shonc out OF the dark,
saucy face as Grant Burchard came in
sight, softly humming 'Home, Sweet
Home.
Il don't believe word of it,, she
said, saucily, as he entered the bower
and tied the sweet briar in knots about
her head and shoulders.
Don't believe what, you little
atheists? he asked playfully. Don't
believe that you are my prisoner, ana
that l may be cruel master, demand
ing penancc for all the sins you ever
committed?
Il don't believe you mean that song,'
she answered, u little sadly. you
sing Home, Sweet Home, and act as
if you were delighted to get out into the
broad world.
Amy (and the manly tones spoke
with a slight reproachfulness,) you
kaow | love my home, and
He paused and showered the white
blossoms over her head, looking into
her shy, saddened eyes.
Il may not say it, he added. your
father thinks he is a wise man, and
has sealed my lips. Dear as is this SIM
pie country place, know that life has
better work than can be done here.
My energies are cramped and my pow
ers are sadly limited. The opportunity
offered me for travel and Improvement
is rare one, and l may not cast it
away. 1t is a realization Of q golden
dream, and when l return l will real
ize another, and confound your fathers
fears =
He held her pinioned with the eglan-
tine fetters, but she tore them hurriedly
away, saying;
when you return you may despise
simple girl like me, and my father
wishes to spare me further pain in for
bidding all further intimacy until we
know ourselves rs years of separation
will prove III. That separation he
insists must be entire. We cannot
even write, Grant.
But we can think, and love, and
wait, was the hopeful answer. Yonder
comes your cousin Alice. / would say
plague take her only she looks won'
drously like you. Goodbye, Amy
And the strong man kissed her trenh.
bling lips and was gone.
Poor Amy! she was only 16, and
not much of a philosopher. So thought
her father, as he watched the sad face
moving about uneasily. He changed
his opinion when she knelt on the stool
at his side and inquired:
PA, can 60 away to school!
You 60 to school' he exclaimed, q
thought you hated school,
No. she answered, gravely, Il never
hated it, and my teacher said l woult
make good student if l cared less fol
fun. am a real ignoramus pa
Did Grant tell you so, Amy?
NO, papa, answered the blusbins
girl. He sometimes corrects my