Fisherman & farmer. [volume] (Edenton, N.C.) 1887-19??, 1888-07-27

them
"A primrose by the river brim
A yellow primrose was to him,
And it was nothing more"
But there was Clarchen-she had told
me her name-with her soul in her light
blue eyes gazing hungrily at the flowers.
Her questions were SO intelligent, so
discriminating, that it pleased me to
answer them. She singled out the rarest
of my roses, and really seemed to know
a good deal about them But the Will
lam Allen Richardson, which she saw
for the first time, evoked the widest en-
thusiasm.
"There isn't another in the State,' I
said. You see l was inclined to be
rather boastful about my rare rose.
''Why, if 1 chose to sell those flowers, L
could get dollar apiece for them, they're
such peculiar color"
Her eyes opened wide and she re-
peated, 'Ach, one whole tOllarn' in
every variety of infection.
when you 90 to Mrs. Elliot" l
said, "tell her 1 think she'd better try
you"
Her sympathy in my favorite pursuit
had quite won me. If my wife and
daughter had only such intense apprecia-
ton of the beautiful.
Five taken that German girl, john"
Madeline said, that night.
'Quite right, my dear. She seems
quite superior kind of servant"
Don't know about that" Madeline
answered, doubtfully. 'She can't cook
evidently, and her English is just awful.
l went out of the kitchen a minute, and
when l came back found her rum
maging in the drawers of the dresser,
and pulling things about as if she was
taking an inventory of them. I'll try
her for month, but don't think she'll
suit
So Clarchen was fairly established, and
Madeline complaints of her stupidity
and wastefulness were long and deep.
'1ll ship her before the month is
good or-nothing creatures, Clarchen is
the worst She pretends not to under
stand me, but she does every word, and
she slurs over her work to get out in
the garden and potter about among
your precious flowers
eyes, that was true. Every day she
would slip in the garden and pass be-
tween the rows of flowers, carefully
holding back her dress so as not to
brush against them.
Once or twice 1 had mind to cut
some of my common roses and give them
to her to take home at night, but re-
Trained from principle. | cannot bear
to cut my flowers, it almost seems to me
there is a living soul in them, and then
if you begin to give away flowers, your
life is worried out of you by your
neighbors who won't trouble themselves
to cultivate roses, and seem to think
you ought to be glad to provide them
with the rarest blossoms.
l am very careful to keep my premises
locked, but as we are late risers and as
Clarchen came very early, l was obliged
to give her key to the gate, that she
might let herself in without waking us.
Fer week all went on smoothly
Clarchen, if not capable servant, was
good -natured one, and my wife thought
she was improving.
One morning going into my garden, I
found my Marechale Mel despoiled of
some of its choicest blossoms. One
magnificent cluster of eight enormous
roses [ had been watching for several
days was gone.
"Jeanne," cried out excitedly to my
daughter, who was at her window, "did
you cut my Marechale Niels?"
''Im astonished at you, papa" she
answered, tossing her head. do you
think [ would SteaL your cid flowers,
when you refused me a single rose the
other day? I've too much pride for
that"
"Oh, and dey vas so heavenly lofely!"
Clarchen exclaimed. She had run into
the garden when she heard my voice,
and stood there, her hands raised in CON
sternation:
81 count dem yesterday. One, two,
tree, yes eight big rosen, -4ch HjmDaeL
who took dem rosen?"
"Somebody's climbed over the fence,
John, and helped themselves" my wife
said, dr{Iy' !.t think she = really enjoyed
last loss, and, perhaps, you'll learn after
a while that you'd better give your
flowers to be used by your family, than
to leave them for thieves"
l didn't dare tell my wife how many
of my fine roses missed that morning,
for l knew that precious little sympathy
would get from her. But it was heart
rending to go from one bush to another
to find my finest blooms gone. The thief
evidently had picked and chosen with
full knowledge of the rarest varieties.
Clarchen groaned and nearly wept
over my losses, and suggested that l
should put broken bottles on the top of
my wall. But had one comfort NV
William Allen Richardson was gorgeous
that morning, and 1 actually lost the (
acute pain of my losses, in gazing at my
y 7