Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1883-05-08
4" DESTINY"

On a stormy March day fresh-faced
young girl was | am tempted to say
maufully womanly" making her
way along the main street of New Eng
land factory village. A bright, daring
face was er's-one that said, as plainly
as brown eyes, red lips and piquant tea
tures could cay {" Here am. Let fate
send her worst | shall fight the good
fight" The very curls on her temples,
blowing this way and that, made her sim
pie straw turban, look fearless, almost
saucy, yet without any suggestion of tha,
hideous, straight hanging, modern crank
Of fashion termed bang" She wore a
neat waterproof suit, sensible in length,
and pepper r-and-sslt in hue, though a
shrewd physiognomist might have been
willing to wager that somewhere among
her feminine adornings would be found a
bit Of scarlet. She carried her cotton um-
brella without endangering peoples eyes,
and appeared altogether basiness-like,
and self-sustained. 4 passing stranger,
glancing at her eager face and quick
gait, would think, That girl is in dead
earnest"
She looked occasionally at the pic
lures, vases, and other pretty trifes in
the shop windows, but withou, twinge
Of envy in her healthful soul. She was
won't TO say that she could enjoy them
four times a day, except when she car
ried her dinner, without the trouble of
taking care OF them. In short, she
seemed fully equipped for possessing"
in the very best sense. She did stop,
however, before a confectioner's window,
where some tempting oranges were dis
played. counting the contents Of a shabby
little purse, then snapped the steel clasp
with q determined shake of the head.
"Nettie Randall, you're selfish coward, !"
was her mental comment, as she walked
resolutely on.
Turning into quiet street, yet not too
far from the business centre of the VIII
lage, she entered small frame house by
the door of which was tackled modest
tin sign lettered, Ladies Trimming
Store, +. & A. Randall" In the front
windows hung a few ribbons, cheap
laces, Hamburg edgings, etc, "a most
unpretending establishment. AS Nethe
closed the door upon her dripping UNI
brella and the general discomfort of a
storm and fast thickening darkness out
side, a CHEEKY warmth and light greeted
her, and another fresh-faced, brown-eyed
girl year or two younger, looked up
with bright smile from her seat behind
the counter, where she was swiftly and
dexterously drawing the bristles through
those indispensable aids to civilization
tooth brushes.
"How's Destiny" asked Nettie,
in matter-of-course way, as she hung
up her outer waterproof and pushed her
over-shoes under the stove to dry.
In explanation, let it be here stated
tha, these two were once singing that
beautiful poem, which begins:
Though the day of my destiny's over.
And the star of my fate has declined"
a tiny, hsping cousin caught the melody,
and piped out +: Though the day of my
destiny's 'clined." Destiny's 'clined
became thereafter most appropriate ex-
preston, when the best laid schemes y
seemed obstinately bent on gangine
agley."
The answer to Nettie's question came
promptly:
"Awful Just Is cents in the cash
drawer haven't sold anything to-day
but paper of needles and one yard o.
elastic -
"That means oatmeal for supper
again, suppose" said Nettie. 81 hate
it," she added savagely, her good humo1
oozing away at the uninviting prospect
She had been working all day for "cut.