Spirit of the age. [volume] (Woodstock, Vt.) 1845-1913, 1882-04-19
He put her away then and looked at


asked, earnestly, ~ saw II In the
paper that Theodore means 'Gill Of
Godi' aud you have been just that to
me. III had never seen you, ! should
never have had q notion above days
work and nights sleep. Twill write
whenever | have any luck, and come
home on New Years eve, when do
come and It you wear that rcd dress |
shall know you have waited for me-"
~ think shall live to wear 1t when
you come home, lit Is seven times
seven years, Joe; for women arc very
hard to kill" said Dora, slowly disap'
pcaring from the kitchen.
"What have you been doing all this
timer" said Prudence, severely.
w was only giving Joe some good
advice"
"Well, hope he'll profit by it,"
$50 do l." said Dora, heartily.
'ris as easy to say seven years as
one, and we read Of Jacobs seven
years. service for Rachel, which SEEM
cd but rs one for the love that he
bore her. Rachcl.s feelings are not
thought worthy to be mentioned in
holy writ; but, it her love was like
Dora's, every day seemed seven years.
And here in Il nutshell, lies differ
cncc between q MANS love and wo-
mans.
Jacob had the sheep to mind, and he
did mind them uncommanly well Joe
went to seek his fortune in new scenes,
and only thought Of Dora when he had
nothing else to do. The poet thought
he had set hard task for men when he
said:
"Learn to labor and to waltz"
but it is immesurably harder to be idle
and wait.
Till her lover went away Dora had
never cared to ask herself whether she
were u child or woman. Sunshine
had been plenty with her, and she had
easily sugared and gilded the plain
things that farm life offered her.
Before the first year came to an end
she felt that she should soon arrive at
u partriarchal age if she did not do
something to kill the time that died so
hard on her hands.
"Teach school guess not," said
her father, when she first broached her
plan to him. "You amt starvin' yet;
and if you want some new furbclows
you just say so, and not come at it
slantin' ways like that"
81 don't want anything, father but
there is so little for me to do at home"
"Nonsense In my time, gals were
always full of business. Can't you
make sheets and pillow-cases and get
ready to be married? Who knows but
somebody'll ask ye one of these days?'
"I'd rather teach school, father"
"Waal, waal, folks cant always
have their 'drruthers in this world. /
amt willin', and that's the end ont"
But this was not the end ont and
Dora easily obtained school. She
developed governing talent which
charmed the committee man, and the
congenial labor in the company of little
children took her out of herself and in
fused new life into her hope deferred.
Every week she walked to the post
office, three miles away, to ask for
letter, gong in with bright flush in
either cheek, and coming out pale and
dull-eyed after the stab of disappoint-
ment. I wonder that people in the
country are so anxious to be Postmas-
ters; if they only knew it, they are
actors in more tragedies than any
member of theatrical stock company.
Much sealed happiness passes through
their hands; but they have to refuse
many "Mariana in the Moated
Grange"-weary women who reach
hand out of their dull lives for letter
and draw it back empty.
1t was far into the second year be-
fore Joe's first letter came. 1t was
surely fanciful and foolish thing for
school-mistress to do, but Dora carried
it to her own little room and put on the
red dress before she read Joe's letter.
Joe was working in the mines in
Colorado. His luck had not yet come,
in nuggets at least, but hard work and
sober living were slowly giving him the
advantage over the other miners. He
was never so well, and loved her bet
ter than all the world.
Dora lived on THE letter for many
weeks, and she sat "Colorado" for a
copy so often to her scholars that they
will write that word better than any
aAIa. AZ. 4ha;r duinn lay