Clinch Valley news. [volume] (Jeffersonville, Va.) 18??-2019, 1886-07-02
THE SQUIRE's APPLES.


and delicious, bloomy strcaks hero and
there! should like to copy them on
plaque or panel or something, if only
onc could be sure of reproducing those
delicate tints of rose and whitc"
"Wcl', declared" said Rose Hebron,
the country cousin, whom she was visit
ing, laughing with n merry, thrush-likc
laugh, us the two girls sat on moss
,namelcd boulder under tho boughs of
The lady-apple-trcc, with here and there
yellow leaf fluttering dreamly down at
their feet "Who would dream of such
poctical description applying to the APP
plcs that grow in Squire Sandford's Or
.hard2"
wasn't it good of him to allow US to
gather thern2" said Linnct, trimming tho
idc-l leaflets of lovely branch of yellow
soldea-rSa
.k'lshslNnnt believe that they arc ab
',olutcsy sosirs though" declared Rose,
sss'anpa {'sce them in the old applc-b;n at
lqnah.b.'
aFI,sWhy nota'
"oh, Squire Cedric is ccccntricl" Rose
answered, car,lcssly.
"Cedric2 Is that his namc2"
eyes. Isn't it m odd relic of the
Saxon times?" laughed Rose.
"It's II very romantic namc," remarked
Lianet, wrinkling her brows in pretty
consideration of the cpithct
'IIs isn't romantic" observed Rose.
"Isn't hc7 But why not7"
"IIc's SO old Thirty, at lcastr' Rose
responded, with an emphatic nod of the
head.
"IIorrid ogrcl" said Linnct, who was
in her seventeenth year. "Comc, Roscy,
let's go home. Pm as hungry MS a canni-
bal! Gathering apples is such hard work |"
She skipped ahead, with her yellow
trcsses floating behind, like stray strands
# sunshine, and her white dress rusling
over the drifts of pcrfumed leaves that
carpeted the path.
Rose followed, with affectionatc eyes
Of admiration.
"What is the difference between me
and Linnct2" she asked herself. sMy
dress is white also; my hair is as golden
rs hers. Why is it that she is like n
dancing spritc-I, n plodding human be.
ing2"
Poor little Rosyl She did not realize
that Linnct Dessoir had grown up in m
altog thcr different atmosphere; that Lin.
net had unconsciously modelled her dress
from the graceful robes which her father,
the artist, kept to drapc his lay figures
that her eye had been trained her taste
cultured, in every possible point.
Giles only poor struggling artist! 7!
Farmer Hebron had been wont contcmp.
tously to observe, when he saw his broth.
: cr-in-law's name among the lists special.
ly honored by the Academy of Design.
"Hc's good follow enough" Eugene
Dessoir airily remarked, when his agricul
tural connection happened to be men.
toned. "But he hasn't an idea be
yond his own fat cattlcl He don't live
| he only vcgetatcs!"
Linnct, however, the bright, mother
| less young beauty, was great favoritc ol
the kind-hearted Hebrons; and when she
had SO enthusiastically admired the beau
tiful pink-and-white lady-applcs on Squire
6andford's tree, Mr.. Hebron had gone SC
far out of his way to ask the squire for a
barrel.
"Just to please the little GIRL" said he.
"She thinks deal of pretty things"
"She is quite welcome" said Squire
sandford, with formal politcness. 'Il
you will send n barrel to the tree to-mor.
row, Mr.. Hebron, it shall be filled TO,
your niece"
And when the squire said this he pict.
urcd in his minds eye the aforesaid niece
as romp of eleven or twelve, with
shinglcd hair, frecklcs and pretcrnatural-
Iy long arms.
All night long Linnct Dessoir dreamed
Of the lady-apples, and when the sun
rose, sphere of rubbed fire, above the
eastern hills, she jumped out of bed and
dressed herself with haste.
II can't sleep another minute" said
she. 'It's just the very sort of morning
to walk out across the woods and look ut
the lady-applc-trcc, with the little spring
gushing out SO close to its roots, and the
blu, nsters, and thickcts of goldcn-rod,
by the stone fence. won't wake Rosy.
Rosy was up lato last night, putting Ia