Orleans County monitor. [volume] (Barton, Vt.) 1872-1953, 1886-07-19


twenty feet away. Srandpa brought
the dishes to w e, smooth rock, |
and Sylvia washed aem in the run
ming water. When ey were wiped,
she hung her tow on the bushes,
and went in to feed louser.
She felt queer to 9 to sleep in that
wild nook, and the 'Hoot, hoot," of
an owl overhead made !. get up and
sit by the embers on the hearth.
When the owl flew away, and she
could hear only the sple ing of the
brook, she crept back oed again,
and slept till Mouser woke her trying
to burrow under her neck.
Grandpa was gone, but soon re-
turned with three fat trout from the
brook. These were done brown on
spit, some potatoes were roasted in
the ashes, and merry breakfast they
had of it. After prayers, grandpa
shouldered his axe, and lifting Syl-
via, to kiss her, said:
"Good-by. Take care O. things.
You're queen now of the whole
mounting"
"Queen! Dearie me !" replied Syl-
via. "Queens don't wash dishes,
and darn stockings, and"
81 don't know" he answered.
eyes, 1 guess some Queens d want
to darn their baby's stockin's. Well
ask Queen Victoria about it when we
90 to see her.
Sylvia looked sober. Any queen
would be glad to see grandpa, and
she would make her just the prettiest
little work-basket, with pink pin
cushion in one corner, and a rustic
"V" worked
"Good-by, little one J" said grand
pa.
"Good-by."
= The dishes washed and house til
died, Sylvia took her pitcher to go
for the milk. Over this old coal-road
Mr.. Marsh's cows passed to and from
pasture. The tinkling of the cow
bell could he heard now.
AS she walked along she looked
far down into the valley where lay
her home, low and white, with petals
of the white roses blowing from it
like snow flakes.
"Mr. Marsh," she said, when she
had watched him milking awhile,
"please let me try to milk
81 want to know!' he exclaimed.
"Lemme see your fingers. Oh =!
them little things. They-why, old
Gem'd think they wuz fly legs, and
kick"
s'Please let me try" she said.
She tried, and succeeded so well
that the next Tuesday Mr.. Marsh
said she could do her own milking
right at her own door.
So, every morning, when she heard
the tinkling of the bell, she went out
with a carrot for old Gem, and milk
ed her yellow pitcher full.
Happy wood-life! But it all came
TO an end one night in this way.
Supper was ready, puffy white bis
cults from Mrs. Marsh, and nice
brown slices of ham on the table, ,and
the tea was simmering on the GOALS.
Sylvia went to call her Grandeath-
er, who was hard at work telling a
tree that seemed in danger of falling
on the house but he knew how to
make it fall away from the house.
"Supper's ready!" she called.
"Don't say!" he replied. swell,
can't say am, quite; I'D rather get
this tree down first, Missy"
"Please come now, an finish chop
PIN after SUPPER" Sylvia answered.
After supper he sat down in the
red freight.
eFur just minute" he said.
But soon-nod, nod, nod-he was
fast asleep. In an hour he started
up with wide open eyes, declaring
that he had "nigh about got asleep"
and pinching Sylvia's lips when they
smiled. They had both forgotten the
half felled tree, and soon they were
asleep in bed. Mouser and Towser
were soon asleep on the hearth, where
the fire-which they usually needed
in the evening-drowsed slowly to
sleep under its gray ashes.
When Sylvia awoke in the night
the wild soughing of the trees, and
the hard beating of the rain. told
that it was storming. She listened
awhile in little dread, but soon slept
calmly again.
A frightful crash awoke her. She
started up. A falling timber had
struck her. With heart choking with
fright, she sprang from her bed.
There lay grandpa, huge limb of
the fallen tree across his body. She
went to him. He was breathing
hardly.
ooh! Grampa! Grampa -
A thread of scarlet wound across
his white forehead.
| "Oh! Grampa! Grampa!'
! But grandpa could not hear. Only
One could hear, now. Her pale,
shivering lips moved: and her eyes
looked out through the open roof into
the dark sky.
The prayer was heard. Its ans
wer was brave heart. Calm and
strong now, she started to rise. A
. dart of pain from her bruised or