The Somerset herald. [volume] (Somerset, Pa.) 1870-1936, 1885-12-09
UNEXPECTED COUKTsHIP.

Il do wish you'd sit down and
keep quiet, Daisy you distract me
so, fluttering around the room like
a bird l''
Now, Miss Cybele Martin was a
tall masculine female, hard on the
"thirties," with stiff little curls, and
goldrimmed spectacles, and a stand
up collar and cravat, like mans
and she was very busy among a pile
of books and papers, preparing
hard questions to annihilate her
Sunday School class on the morrow
while little sixteen-years' old Daisy,
with her pink and white skin, and
brown curls, and innocent blue eyes
beat a retreat, mortified at having
distracted" her staid sister.
Il suppose l shall learn better
sometime" thought Daisy, "but oh,
dear, l am such silly little goose.
She went on tip-toe past the door
where Mr.. Vining. the young mir
lister, was engaged in the revision OF
his sermon, for Mr.. Vining lodged
at Widow Martins, and Daisy felt
her youth and folly more painfully
than in his dignifed presence.
She stood a moment in the door
way, where the cheerful July sun
beams make golden checker work
on the floor, quivering through the
vines, and sweet odor crept subtly
In, of newly-mown clover-felds, and
roses just blossomiDg along the gar
den wall.
Il know what I'll do" thought
Daisy, as her pet, the kitten, darted
away through the bushes. I'LL
have some of those ripe cherries"
Daisy bounded down the garden
walk, and deity climbing the old
stone wall, swung herself into the
branches of the huge cherry tree,
like a white-plumed little bird.
Mother would be Mortified and
Cybele would have a fit" quietly
thought Daisy, ''but it is nice and
shady up here, and the robins are
stealing the cherries. l almost
wish ] was robin, it is such nice
life among the green leaves with the
blue sky peeping through. Dear
me; l hope that isn't mammal
Daisy crept branch or two high
er up, as footsteps came near the
garden path.
Alas her premonitions were but
too correct. Mrs. Martins cap
strings were futtering below, and
Mrs. Martins self had come out
with a bowl to pick currants, ac-
companied by Aunt Susannah, her
sister.
"Now I'm caught" soliloquized
our heroine. Il hope they won't be
long. l wonder what they are talk
ing about. Mr.. Vining, as l liveH y
And Daisy held her breath, and
secretly laughed to see how utterly
unconscious the old DANES were OF
her near vicinity.
Yes said Mrs. Martin, solemnly,
"he's good young mana very
good young man.
There amt no minister all the
country round gives such satisfac-
tion = said Aunt Susannah. "Them
cabhages is comm on finely, Lu-
cretia !"
"Oh bother the cabbages!" said
Mrs. Martin, tartly ''it's about Mr..
Vining I'm talking. Susannah /! But
he ought to marry ard settle down.
A single minister can't do all the
good he could ii he was marriedT
That's true" assented Aunt Su-
sannah, "and Cybele would make a
capital minister's wife"
ashes the very wife he needs
and if some one would just put the
idea into his head"
perhaps he doesn't mean to mar
ry."
Then he is doing very wrong,
encouraging Cybelle the way he
does, walking to Sunday School
with her, and talking about the
poor money! and picking out the
psalms and hymns with his head
close to hers. Of all creatures, dc
dislike a male coouette ~
"Dear me, Lucretiap said Aunt
Susannah, with mild remonstrance
II don't suppose he ever thinks oi
the thing.
Then he ought to think of it
Some one ought to speak to him.
Meek Aunt Susannah picked cur
rants in perplexed silence.
II don't really think he ought to
trifle with my poorCy bele's feelings;
and she is sensitive, too," resumed
the widow.
"I'd be proud to be the ministers 3
mother-in-law," said Mrs. Martin,
exultaut at the remote possibility.
"And Cybele is a very smart girl.
u