The Middlebury register and Addison County journal. [volume] (Middlebury, Vt.) 1883-1885, 1884-12-12
A CHRISTMAS COMEDY.
BY MARGARET EYTINGE.


crimson boudoir on Christmas morning.
regarding with scornful expression Il
little bronze figure which she held in her
hand-t the figure of pretty peasant girl,
in cloak and hood, carrying a covered
basket on her arm. And a scornful eX-
preston, though rather and in rare in.
stances very becoming to some girlish
faces, was not in the least becoming to
bliss Slinglander. 1t wrinkled and short
ened her nose, widened her nostrils and
pouted her full, red lips. All of which,
as her nose was already a tribe too wide
and her lips atrifle too prominent, tended
to seriously detract from the beauty of
her face.
"The ideal" said Miss Slinglander, the
scornful expression giving place to a
frown, which brought her much too near
eyebrows 80 close together that they
seemed like one straight, heavy line, "of
Spencer Royal sending me this thing for
Christmas present. Why, l expected
something splendid from him with an
offer of marriage. Heaven knows he
been dangling after me long enough
half year nearly-and I'm sure his
mother and sisters have set their hearts
on the match. OF course they have.
and with good reason, too. for
with the help of my money
Spence could carry on the business in a
much more princely manner than it was
carried on during his fathers lifetime,
and the returns would be much more
princely in proportion. And I've been
agreeable, for they're decidedly aristo-
cratic family, and Spence is by all odds
the handsomest fellow know. and has
q very taking way with him, though
Jack Raymond is hundred times joller
and three times as rich. But Pm not
going to stand this shilly-shallying any
longer. I've been waiting for him to
speak for the last three months, and not
word on the subject has he said.
Something he dropped last night led
me to believe the proposal was coming
this morning. But instead comes this
thing-pretty enough in its way and
artistic" | suppose, but | don't want
it. The house is full of peasant boys
and girls, and shepherds and shepherd
esscs, and cupids, and all the rest of
them now. What shall | do with it?
Why, declare, it looks like Ella Mellis.
I'll send it to her. She's been sewing
for us for the last six months and no
doubt she'll expect a Christmas gift-
that kind of people always do-and |
don't feel like spending any money on
her, so of this goes. She'll be delighted
with it, and can keep her an hour or two
beyond her work hours, sometimes when
I'm needing a dress in hurry, on the
strength of it. And, Mr.. Spencer Roy.
all, if Jack Raynor comes accounting me
again to day, my money will never help
you and your family to greater magnifi-
cence. a bronze peasant girl, indeed,
when expected at least an elegant soil
tairc."
An hour later Ella Mellis sat in the
plalnlyfurnished room which served her
and her widowed mother for sewing
room, dining room, and parlor, holding
the bronze figure in her little right hand
ON the second finger of which was a
well-worn silver thimble-and viewing
it with look of delighted admiration
that added wonderfully to the attract
iveness Of her delicately featured face,
lending as 1t did charming light to her
soft, tired brown eyes and flush to her
pale cheeks. 81 never dreamed he
would think of me at all, - she said in
sweet voice tremulous with Joy, land
he has not only thought of me- but sent
me this beautiful Christmas present.
Why, we have never met but half dozen
times since became a sewing girl, and
then always in the presence of Miss Sling
lander, with the exception of that night
when I slipped out on the ice in front Of
her door-she had kept me very late
helping her dress for a ball-and he,
happening to be near, helped me to my
feet and insisted on accompanying me
home, saying so kindly, at is too late
for any young lady to be out alone" and
came in and talked to mamma for an
hour afterward. Poor mamma how glad
she was to meet some one whose father
had known and loved papa!
Dear me! how happy Miss Sling
lander will be-for, of course, he is going
to marry her-though, for my part, I'd
like a lover little more lover-like. I've
actually caught him yawning when she
was talking to him-and don't wonder.
for she does run on so about style and
'faslion'-and I've never seen him look