Maryland independent. [volume] (Port Tobacco, Md.) 1874-current, 1886-05-14
THE SQUIRE'S APPLES.

"such pretty apples!" cried Linnet
Dessoir, ecstatically. "With red cheeks,
just as if a fairy pencil had painted them,
and delicious, bloomy streaks here and
there! should like to copy them on a
plaque or panel or something if only
one could be sure Of reproducing those
delicate tints of rose and whitew
''WeIl, declarer said Rose Hebron,
the country cousin, whom she was visit
ing, laughing with a merry, thrush-like
laugh, as the two girls sat on a moss
enameled boulder under the boughs Of
the lady-apple-tree, with here and there
a yellow leaf fluttering DREAMY down at
their feet. "Who would dream of such
a poeticai description applying to the ap-
pies that grow in Squire Sandford's or
chard?"
"Wasn't it good of him to allow us to
gather thcm2" said Lionet, trimming the
side-leaiets off lovely branch of yellow
golden-rod.
81 shall not believe that they are alb
solutely ours though" declared Rose,
''until see them in the old apple-bin at
home.r
"Why notF'
"Oh, Squire Cedric is eccentricr' Rose
answered, carelessly
'Cedric2 Is that his rame?n
Yes. Isn't it an odd relic of the
Saxon times9' laughed Rose.
Its very romantic name, " remarked
tt5HHEpagBj 81 tic RgaFl RgaFltllss REews Z @sss
"He isn't romantic" observed Rose.
'Isn't he2 But why not2"
"He's SO oldl Thirty, at least" Rose
responded, with an emphatic nod of the
head.
"Horrid ogre'' said Linnet, who was
in her seventeenth year. "Come, Rosey,
let's 90 home. Pm as hungry as a canni-
bal! Gathering apples is such hard work y
She skipped ahead, with her yellow
tresses floating behind, like stray strands
of sunshine, and her white dress rustlina
over the drifts of perfumed leaves that
carpeted the path.
Rose followed, with affcctionatc eyes
of admiration.
"What is the difference between me
and Linnet2" she asked herself. "My
dress is white also; my hair is as COLDER
as hers. Why is it that she is like 6
dancing sprite-I, plodding human be
ingl"
Poor little Rosy She did not realize
that Linnet Dessoir had grown up in an
altogether different atmosphere; that Lin
net had unconsciously modelled her dress
from the graceful robes which her father
the artist, kept to drape his lay-fgures
that her eye had been trained, her taste
cultured, in every possible point.
"He's only poor struggling artist? f?
Farmer Hebron had been wont contemp
tously to observe, when he saw his broth
er-in-law's name among the lists special
ly honored by the Academy of Design.
'eHe's a good follow enough" Eugene
Dessoir airily remarked, when his agrieul
tural connection happ ned to be men
toned. "But he hasn't an idea be
yond his own fat cattle! He don't live
he only vegetables"
Linnet, however, the bright, mother
less young beauty, was a great favorlte o
the kind-heartel Hebrons; and when sh'
had so enthusiastically admired the beau
tiful pink-and-white lady-apples on Squlr
Sandford's tree, Mr.. Hebron had gone s.
far out of his way to ask the squire Tor
barrel.
"Just to please the little girl, " said ne
"She thinks a deal of pretty things"
"She is quite welcome" said Squlr'
sandford, with formal politeness- i
YOU will send barrel to the tree to-mor
row, Mr.. Hebron, it shall be filled 10
your niece"
And when the squire said this he pct
ured in his minds eye the aforesaid niec
as romp of eleven or twelve, VIII
shingled hair, freckles and preternatural
ly long arms.
All night long Linnet Dessoir dreane'
of the lady-apples, and when the sl
rose, sphere of rubbed fire, above III
eastern hills, she jumped out OF bea an
dressed herself with haste.
81 can't sleep another minute sni
she. 'Gt's just the very sort OF mofnin
to walk out across the woods and iook
the lady-apple-tree, with the little sPrlr
gushing out so close to its roots, ana u
blue asters, and thickets OF goldeh-ro'
by the stone fence. l won't wake nos
Rosy was up late last night, putting !
bells on the ounce jelly. I'll let IL
sleep, and go by myselfF :,
But Miss Hebron was no more OF = ias
gard in the morning than was her ei'
cousin. At seven precisely she knooN'
at Iinnet's door, but the bird had now ,
"How provokingw said Rose =
I'll follow her. She must have gon'
try 70 make that sketch of the old mos