Millheim Journal. [volume] (Millheim, Pa.) 1876-1984, 1883-10-18

abbreviate the newcomers thanks.
Barbara, this is tho youngest clerk.
His name, | believe, is Browne"
Barbara let her soft, blue-gray eyes
rest upon his tired face for n second,
with the most angelic sympathy.
"Is your cough very bad this sum-
mer?" she asked. "Oh, | hope the
mountains will do you good! How
long n vacation have you-two
weeks? ?"
He smiled.
"You are very kind" he said. "The
firm will allow me to be gone as long
as l like"
And your salary will go on just the
same?"
And my salary will continue just
the same"
That is what call real generosity
said Barbara. "Oh, | should like to
thank Messrs. Browne. Brownson Il
Browne. Well, come in. Our little
cottage is full of boarders, but my
mother and l will contrive to make
room for You somewhere
And the pale boarder slept that night
IN little rose-scented room, with Il
strip of bright rag carpet on the floor,
hand-painted china vases on the wood
mantle, and cheap muslin curtains
at the window, after supper of black
caps and milk, delicious homemade
bread, fresh honey and iohnny-cake.
Two dollars week for such fare as
this, to say nothing of my cunning
little corner roomr' said Mr. Browne
to himself. Il never boarded SO cheap
ly before in all my life
At the end of week he was more
than delighted with his summer home.
Mrs. Troop was the kindest and most
motherly of hostesses; Barbara was
the impersonation of sweet and gracious
refinement. The mountain was full of
purple glens, merry-yoioed cascades
winding footpaths and breezy heights.
Mr.. Browne enjoyed himself intensely.
He believed that he had come to the
right place.
Don't you think" said Barbara TO
her mother, that he's very strong for
a consumptive?"
Its that herb-tea, and the diet of
honey and new milk that is building
him up. said Mrs. Troop. triumphant
ly. Il never knew it fail yet in lung
diseases But he's very pleasant,
Barby, isn't he:"
"Veryr' said Barbara, earnestly.
Mr. Browne had not been a month
at the little cottage on the mountain,
when, overtaken by a sudden shower,
he took refuge in an old. unused barn,
not far away from the house, where
thicket of blossOming elderberries con-
cealed the rude stone basement, and a
veteran yellow pine tree flung its ban
ner of black-green shade over the
messy shingles of the roof. Unused,
except to stow sweet hay in--and in
one corner a little chamber had been
finished off, long ago, with brick
chimney and a tiny-paned lattice. The
door was half open, and Mr.. Browne
could discern a little cot-bcd, draped
with white; a dimity-coycred toilet
stand, whose coarse, cheap bowl and
pitcher were enriched with purple and
crimson autumn leaves in hand-paint-
ing, and little needlework rug which
lay at the foot Of the bed.
"Ah," said Mr.. Browne, to that best
of confdants, himself, Il comprehend
it all now have displaced Mademoi-
selle Barbara from the little corner
room in the cottage. Upon my word,
I feel like usurper. But how good
they are, this mother and daughter,
whose only income is derived from
this precarious occupation of taking
summer boarders. How unselish, how
utterly self-sacrifcing. There are
good Samaritans yet left in the world,
thank heayen!'
When September came, with its yell
low leaves and it's clusters of vivid
blue asters on the edges of the woods,
Mr. Browne prepared to return to the
city.
"You are sure you are strong enough
to resume work?'' said Mrs Troop,
anxiously.
"Mother," said Barbara, che isn't at
all like an invalid. Either old Mr..
Fanshawe was mistaken, or else Mr..
Browne has made an almost miracu-
lous recovery"
Just at this instant Jane came to
tell Mrs. Troop that neighbor Jackson
was at the door waiting to borrow a
drawing of tea.
The gentle widow hustled out; Mr..
Browne turned to Barbara.
oVoo ooid no tCJ ON rroi r. + n ra+ur,