Democratic Northwest. [volume] (Napoleon, Ohio) 1869-1894, 1886-10-07
A Thorn on the Stem.
BY E. F. P.

claimed Mary Morrison's father, q
farmer living near Weston, Cheshire.
4 was just going out myself to take
your place, The boys have got hall
through ="
oh, never mind, fatherp said pretty
Mary, relieving him of his milking.
pail and stool in . coaxing way. This
gentleman has been taking my pic,
ture.'
Your picture, eh7 Good evenisg,
sir. l suppose you are one of them
artist chaps ct the tavern2'
The gentleman referred TO- Eaud
some young fellow, bowed.
Yes, he vas one of them chaps.
And, in proof thereof, he opened his
portfolio.
Mary gslded off towards the barn
yard; the old man gazed with an open
mouth at her portrait.
That's her. sure enough; and the
COWS ce1ldn't be better if you had
struck them in there just as they be
in the yard. And Tip TOO, you can
see the bark just coming out of his
mouth. I vow it's wonderful l say,
sir, Ishould like to see how you do it.
You shall. Come this way
The artist crossed the road, follow
ed by the farmer, and sat down near
the barn-yard.
Mary sat among group of mixers,
her tongue running fast about her
portrait, while she leaned her pretty
head against the spotted side of old
Mooly, and watched her rapidly filling
pail.
Before the work was over, the quick
pencil had caught them ALL. and
grouped them around that centre
figure, like stars around the moon,
like rustic court attending upon
their rustic queen.
well, it beats alll' calculated the
farmer. Mary, he's made another
picture of youp
She came out, smiling and blushing.
Dear me, sir, | wanted to smooth
my hair and change my dress before
you took meagain.'
1--WE will let that go till 1 come
another time, said the artist, gravely,
as he closed his book. ITS almost
time for me to CO.
Come in for q moment, and take a
cup of new milk said the farmer,
heartily. That's what you don't get
in London, Mr.
MY name is Curtis Howard, sir.
You are right; | never get milk
there and 1 will trouble Miss Mary
Miss Mary hurried away to wash
her hands and brush her dark hair.
When she came back with the milk,
the artist stood in the open parlor
door, chatting with her father as if he
had known him for years.
yes, I 60 Tomorrow he said, in
answer to question, just as she enter
ed; and it was we'll he took the milk,
or she might have dropped it.
He looked at her keenly;ia deep
blush covered her face; be sighed,
and raised a glass to his lips.
Your health, Miss Mary, and good
husband to you |
The old man burst out laughing;
Mary put the empty glass away with a
small pain at her heart. ,
She had often been joked about a
husband before yet somehow she did
not like to hear this stranger joke
about it. She would never marry
not shell
The evening passed swiftly away, |
and the village clock struck nine. The
artist rose to 60.
Good bye he said, and many |
thanks for your hospitality
Goodbye, sir! If ever You come
this way, drop In and stay q week or
two with us. Mary here will take
good care of you, and You can make
pictures of her to your hearts con-
tent
Thank you--you are very kind;
and if | am near you, shall not fail
to accept the invitation. Miss Mary,
may [ venture to ask one thing of you
in memory of this pleasant visitT
What can l give you, sir?' she said,
in voice that trembled, though she
tried to keep it steady,
That flower, if you will
He pointed to the rose on her
bosom.
She unfastened it, and seeing a
thorn upon the stem, removed it be-
fore she placed it in his hand.
He smiled sadly. /
Thank you. May all your roses be
.hornless for ,ewerl I shall finish your
picture, and perhaps you may see it
again some dsy. Goodbye, now |,
He held out his hand. She gave
aim hers.
The old farmer had already made
;wo steps towards the gate, and stood
With his back towards them, gazing
,ut towards his beloved barn yard
md the fields beyond.
Two pair Of eyes looked into each
'ther's depths. ,
Two pair of lips met softly; two
learts gave quick bound! And
hen the artist went away. 1t was
uite time for him to do 90!