The Londonderry sifter. (South Londonderry, Vt.) 1883-19??, 1885-06-25

bosom of Lake Pontchartrain. Before
l have gone far am seized with an
other inspiration, There isn't living
soul In sight 1 had retired nook,
and landing my boat, draw it upon the
white sandy beach for safety. Then l
seat myself upon the sand and deliber-
ately pull off my shoes and stockings;
/ am going to wade, for the tide is out
and the water is cool and delightful.
have not gone far, however, when l
catch the sound of a faint groan. l
drop my skirts involuntarily, and put.
ting my hands to my mouth, as have
seen Fred do upon similar occasions, l
shout, Justify:
"Halloa!"
The answer comes at once, ana so
close to my side that l cry aloud in
alarm. turn quickly, and then l un-
derstand. Just around little bend
which forms a sort of a cove, l catch
glimpse of man lying at full length
upon the sand. Even from that dis
tance can distinguish the pallor- of
his face, and then understand intui-
lively that some accident has overtak-
en- him. Iglance down at my bare
feet. No time for shoes and stockings
now-I dart through the water, and
soon reach his side. The very hand
soonest man ever met; he raises his
dark eyes to my face and says quickly:
81 beg your pardon. miss, but have
sprained my ankle severely, and--is
there any place in the neighborhood
where can remain until able to trav-
ell? My name is Compton-Walter
Compton-from st. Louis, and" he
hesitates, and spasm Of pain con-
tracts his face for moment.
YES" cry immediately, "you can
come home with mep' So l run to get
into my discarded articles Of wearing
apparel, and then springing into my
boat 1 row to the spot. With great
difficulty 1 succeed in assisting the
stranger into the boat, and then pull
slowly homeward. find papa quite
willing to receive the stranger, who,
after all, proves to be no stranger, but
the son of one Of papa's old friends.
We made him comfortable, and then
followed days and weeks of pleasant
companionship. Six weeks from the
day upon which ! brought Walter
Compton home In my boat he asks me
to be his wife. l burst into tears. For
love him with all my heart; yet there
is that hateful Mr.. Comynl He has
never revisited our town since the let
ter was written in which he asks for
the heart and hand of Freda Lowell,
but we may reasonably look for hin
now at any time. I sob out my story
to Walter, my head upon his shoulder.
He smiles, and stopping, kisses me.
"Don't cry, sweetheart" he says
soothingly. "You shall never marry
Mr.. Comyn Or any other man but my
self, if you really love me. We will
explain the whole affair to him and tc
your father; and Mr.. Lowell will not
object to me on the score of poverty,
for am rich man, Freda."
And then some one raps at the door,
and the servant Announces:
"Miss Freda, your father says please
come to the library. Mr.. Comyn wish
es to see you."
At last! So it has come, and must
face the music. And my eyes are red
from crying, my hair awfdlly tousled
1 am a sight to make a lover weep
Nevertheless, I'll go just as / am; if
make him hate me, SO much the better
So leave Walters side and marcf
straight into the library, with whit
cheeks, my head deliantly raised.
Mr.. Comyn arises to meet me-a fine
looking man, but not one-half as hand
some as my Walter. lie he3itates, ant
draws back with intense surprise upor
his face.
"Mr. Lowell" he calculates in be
: wilderment, addressing my father
"there is some mistake. This is no
the young lady
l clapped my hands gleefully, re-
gardless of papa's severest frown. S
, it is Rita, after all. I'm not two min
utes getting her into the library; the
1 close the door and fly back to Walter
side.
Yes, it really is Rita. Mr.. Comy
\ had only mistaken the name; but it /
$ Rita whom he loves and wishes tx
J marry. And best of all, Rita love
1 him in return, and has been grievin
in secret all this time.
e So there is double wedding, an
a papa smiles serenely and never frown
] now, for he has two rich sons-in-law
and poor little madcap Freda, tn
t bride of wealthy Mr.. Compton, bt
e comes quite an envied parsonage, an
S there is no longer any "black sheep
in the family.--MS. E. Burke Collin
A Lesson in Worldly Philosophy.