St. Johnsbury Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1867-1919, 1886-08-12
ONLY A COUNTRY GIRL.

You're mistaken, L would sooner
die than marry country girl"
"But, Fred, suppose her intelligent,
moral, full of natural poetry, tender
hearted, graceful, unspoiled by admira-
ton, a guileless, simple, loving crea-
ture Z"
"Oh," said Fred, "choice collection
of virtue and grace. Country beauties
are always sweet, and so are country
cows. No, tell you, if she was as love-
~ as an angel, with the best sense in
the world, still if unskilled in music
and literature, with no soul above
churns and knitting needles, would
not marry her for a fortune"
"Hal hal" laughed Helen Irving, but
it was a very pianissimO laugh, way
down in the very corner of her heart.
Hidden by the trunk of a very large
tree, she sat reading within "a few feet
of the egotist.
In another moment the young lady
came in sight. Fred's face crimsOned +,
and he whispered with visible trepida-
ton:
''Do you think she heard me 2"
NO." replied the other audibly, "she
shows no resentment; she has not even
looked up from her book; you are safe;
she could not have heard you; but what
an angel she is"
Yes, Helen was an angel, as far as
outside beauty might merit the enco-
MUM. She sat half reclining on a rus
tic seat, striving to smooth out the
dimples in her cheeks as she laid her
books aside and began twining an un-
finished wreath of wild roses.
Leaning on one white arm, the gnarl-
ed white oak in the background, flow
ers strewn around her, peeping from
her white dress, she sat quite at her
ease, apparently unconscious that two
handsome young gentlemen were so
near.
Approaching with low bow, upon
which his mirror had set the seal of
faultless elegance, Frederic Lane took
the liberty to ask if the young lady
would inform him where Mr.. Irving
lived.
With an innocent smile the beauty
looked up.
'FMr. Irving, the only one in the viii
lage, is my father" she said, rising in
a charming and graceful manner. "The
large house on high ground, half hid
den by trees and thick shrubbery; that's
where we live. | believe it was an
academy once, that's sort of select
school, isn't it ?" with the most natural
simplicity, turning to Fred.
Hereplied with another graceful bow.
"Tell your father" said he, "that
shall do myself the honor to call on
him tomorrow. He will remember me,
Fredric Lane, at your service
eyes, sir; | will tell him for yOu,"
said Helen, tucking her sleeve around
her pretty arm, and making a rather
formal courtesy. Then catching up
her books and gathering some flowers
she hurried home.
"NOw, father, mother, aunt and SIS"
exclaimed the merry girl, bouncing in
to the room where the family sat at
supper, $50 sure that you and l live
that Mr.. Lane that you talk so much
about is in the village. He will call
here tO-morrOw-the first specimen of
n city beau (as of course he is), all SEN
timent, refinement, faultless in kids,
spOtless in dickey, important and self
assured as one of that class can possibly
be. Promise me, all of you, that you'll
not lisp one word about music, reading
and writing in his presence, because
have a plan. Father will not, l know;
but if you, sis, will keep quiet and ask
no questions, l will give you that work
box you have coveted so long"
"Helen, you are not quite respect
full" said her father.
"FOrgive me, dear father" and her
arms were around his neck. 81 always
meant we'll but ] am thoughtless.
There, all is right now" said she, kiss
ing him lovingly on the cheek.
"COme sis, what say your"
"Why, on that condition, I'll be as
still as mouse, but what's your rea-
son p
"Ah, that's my own business" said
Helen, dancing out of the room.