The Bossier banner. [volume] (Bellevue, Bossier Parish, La.) 1859-1952, 1884-08-14

udl IIESHb WHEN WAS IlGLle anu naughty,
and it always seemed to me horrible
injustice. Jane, run over to the par
sonage, and tell Mr.. Miller he viii do
me a favor if he will
''Baste 'em soundly,n putHin Jane.
"Jane! how inhuman! He will do
me favor if he win let them off this
time
Now, Miss Prue, if you'd write il
yoursef-sure' you live-excuse me,
miss-but | amt got the face to carry
that there message" And it so hap
,pened that Rev. Austin Miller found
himself dreaming over perfumed note,
IN his study, while his sermon lay for
gotten before him-dreaming of the first
note he had ever received from Miss
Prue. fifteen years or so ago, the words
of which started out from some hidden
corner OF his brain where they had been
sleeping unknown to him; dreaming of
the dewy evenings in the rose-garden of
the old parsonage where he studied Di-
vinity and she taught the children their
A b C'si of moonlight nights on the
river together, and spring mornings in
the woods hunting the first wild flower;
of Sundays, when they sang together in
the choir; of their stroll home through
green, sWeet-scented lanes. The thou
sand and one dear hours they had spent
in each others company passed before
his minds eye like some beautiful piano.
rama. He wondered if, indeed, he was
the hero of those dreams, if he had ever
been SO happy. The first parting, the
first arrangement, wrung his heart
anew, as if they had happened only
yesterday. What foolish thing their
little quarrel looked like to-day, seen by
the light of years and knowledge-such
trifie, but with such large results.
Yet he had been the first to make an
overture toward reconciliation, thank
God! If she accepted his overture she
was to write and say so; but no word
had come to him in reply. What days
and hours of suspense lifted their shad-
ows before him; how the whole world
had seemed bleak and improbable
without her! And in season of
weakness, when his wounded
heart could bear no more, he had
accepted the sympathy and comfort
nearest at hand, and had finally
married Lefty Carew, because she loved
him, only to wake up one day to find
that he owed all his unhappiness to her.
Miss Hildreth had, indeed, answered
him, had given Lefty the letter to mail
they had been intimate friends in
those days, intrusted with each other's
heart-beats-and Lefty had detained
the missive that would have healed the
breach. How did he know this? Years
after it tumbled out of drawer of old
letters, and confronted him with it's fa-
miliar address. Miss Carew thought
she had secured herself for all time by
burning Prue's letter, but she had
tossed the wrong envelope into the
CRATE. Austin Miller had lived his sor-
row over again after this discovery; he
had walked with it and wrestled with it
without getting nearer happiness, and
had long ago made up his mind to do
without it. But he had thought it due
to Prudence Hildreth to send her word
that by an accident her letter had come
to hand five years too late; he said moth
ing of Letty's share in the matter, but
Prudence understood all. These memo
ries had been revived by 'Prue's hasty
note asking him to forgive the children
for breaking up the pea-hen's nest!
Her children, too! He was at the point
of carrying the note to his lips, when
bis eye fell upon his sermon, and he
threw it into the waste basket. He
looked at the clock; he had been idle
two whole hours. 'eOf what was he
thinkingp" he asked himself; ''where
was he drifting? an anointed priest, the
example and counselor Of sinners?"
At least he could go and thank Prue
with clear conscience; as for the chill
dren, they were already in bed, techni-
cally speaking, and having such a capt.
tai pillow fight that they agreed to get
into mischief every day of their lives,
and be punished.
After that Mr.. Miller often found
himself dropping in, on one pretext or
another, at The Elms; to ask Miss Prue
to play over the air of some new
psalmody, that he might join in the
congregational singing; to lend her the
latest volume of religious thought; to
beg advice about the children. Some
times he came bringing those unruly
infants, with their brown hands full OF
peacock feathers and their little hearts
full of ilnpenitence. They and the
peacock were now the best of friends;
he ate from their hands and endured
their petting, which was much like
| punishment, with heroism; if he stayed
away they hunted him out and brought
him home in triumph.
Those children might as well live
here" said Jane.
g And their father, too,' added
| John.
''Not a bite of sweet-bread can
keep in the larder; and when they tears
their frocks they goes straight to Miss
Prue, and she mends them before
Bridget scolds 'em, just as if they'd be
her very own"
s. fine stepmother she'd be max
ing" observed John. g They do be
saying in the village that it's her car
she is setting for the parson."
"That's just the way of the gossips
If man takes to woman it's always
she that is asserting of her cap for him
The parson ought to ask EN- to picl
out a wife for him and suit their
selves.
And then there's others who say
it's her money" persisted John, who
like fair historian, was bound to STATE
both sides; ''an' that he come herr
a-purpose to marry herr