Sacramento daily record-union. [volume] (Sacramento [Calif.]) 1875-1891, 1884-12-27
THE ANGEL CHIMES.
A CHRISTMAS STORY.
CHAPTER 1.


for few vehicles seemed to pass through It's
long High street, where the grass grew in
pert green tufts between old paving. Very
quiet, for the inhabitants seemed to live
very much in their homes, and the gentle
gossip that went on between the women,
old and young, generally took place within
doors
There was a little old-fashioned inn, with
its swinging sign of q White Goat, and
in the bow window generally were
seen flowers and ferns kept in great order
by the innkeeper's daughter. The White
Goat was at one end of the village, and
at the other the green, just off the church
yard.
Administer was some miles from rail
way station, and the tourists who invaded
its sleepy quietness were few and far be-
tween Some, however, came and strolled
through the place. inspected the church
with its old monuments, and admired the
angels, with grave faces carven in the
stone, that seemed to guard tue chancel.
Then the old white-haired Yerger told them
whether dedicated to the angels, or called
so because of the old carvings, no one
knew. Then the tourists generally went to
the inn, and when regaled with some
country fare, they inquired about the
place, and the more Observation-Disclosures
quizzed the tall old manchester Lin
stice, as he liked to be called-about the
name of the village They asked why it
was called Administer, and if the reason
was that everything being so behindhand
III civilization, the time of the flood sug-
geSted the name?
Years ago-it does not matter how many
June Linstice was sitting in the back par
lar window of the White Goat, one
autumn day. June was 10 years old, small
and fragile, with little white hands, small
feet, and the loveliest tawny hair imagina-
bic, wound closely round her head. Wind
it as she might, however, she could not
keep it straight, and it would go off into
little curling rings and soft. fluffy waves
over her white forehead. The face was
rather a child's than a woman's face with
its sweet expression and delicate complex
ion, and altogether her queer name, given
as fancy of her fathers because she was
born on the Isl of June. seemed to suit her.
The day that June came to this world her
mother, the first love of the grave old Mas
ter Linstice, left it. Now, as ii had been
from that day, his June was all his care.
On her he lavished much tender affection,
shown in his own peculiar way. In her
life his own was bound up. She was well
educated and refined far more than could
be expected of a country innkeeper' S
daughter But the truth was, June Lin
stice was one of natures gentlewomen, and
a dusty traveller who came in to rest that
autumn afternoon quickly decided that she
was that every inch.
Generally June's little parlor was never
invaded, but that afternoon there had been
the Michaelmas Fair, and the common
room was full of farmers, who sat over
their supper, discussing in high tones, and
talking more loudly than an outsider would
care to have the benefit of So, when Mr..
Durefoy had arrived, with his knapsack on
his back, and said as well as looked that he
was weary, Mr.. Linstice had told Sam, the
lame boy and general .tdctotlm of the
White Ghost, to show him into the back
parlor
Mr.. Linstice thought June was out, but
even had he been aware that she was there
he would not have made any difference
q beg your pardon-I hope | am not
disturbing you, said Mr. Durefoy raising
his hat as he entered, and June rose, stand
lug in the window, with the crimson
Creeper forming the background to a face
he thought worthy of one of. Fra Angeli-
cos angels.
Not at all, - said June. quietly. stopping
TO pick mp her work, which had dropped
when She got up. Il hope, sir, you have
asked for all you want?'
4 have" said Mr.. Durefoy; and Sam
disappeared while Mr.. Durefoy took the
large armchair that stood near the center
table, and then proceeded 10 unfasten his
llnapsack. As he did so he glanced round
the room. 1t was a queer mixture III every
way.
The walls were painted pale gray, and
facing the window were the two inevitable
pictures so closely associated with English
inns and lodging-houses. of Vesuvius-Ne-
Suvius on an ordinary day and Vesuvius in
a state of eruption. These We're framed in
black, and beneath them, in refreshing con-
trast, were hung little brown pots filed
with delicate ferns and wild flowers. There
We're flowers all over the room, and many
a little dainty device in the way of brackets
and needlework well arranged. All this
was June taste; the rest, the horsehair
sofa. the tray on the sidebOard with the
green peacock with red tail, the frightful
china ornaments were the masters house
hold vanitieS, anc he never let them be
touched
There was in those ugly pieces Of furni-
ture in those awkward looking chairs and
hideous ornaments, a sacredness in the
masters eyes. They had been his wife's
his little DorOthea's own possessions
brought from the old Lincolnshire farm
house where he had found her, and having
fallen in love with her and she with him
he had married her. She had been fond of
them, and he associated her with them,
and in his eyes they had a loveliness that
nothing else could so well have supplied
June went on with her work quietly, and
not seeming in the least discomposed by
the presence of the stranger. Suddenly
however, she raised her eyes, and saw that
Mr.. Durefoy was looking at her. and
slightly flushed, she fixed her attention on
her work
Bat Mr Durefoy. an artist, who loved
beauty most passionately, had a longing to
see those lovely eyes again, so he began a
conversation when the refreshments that
sam brought him in were disposed Of
Quiet little place this, said Mr. Dure-
fov. pushing back his chair from the table
." Do you think 500" asked June, look
ing up with a twinkle in her pretty mouth ;
for at that moment a loud haw haw'
laugh from the noisy common room re-
sounded more noiSily than before
90 Well. I meant ArCh-Ark-wha is the
name of the place.
" Administer said June,
d" hove been wandering about all day in
the neighborhood, sketching, and certainly
when I came to Administer I thought -
the most dead-andaliye place | ever
saw, he was going to say, but politeness
induced him to substitute the words,
quiet place was ever in.
\ 4 q l., !