Catoctin clarion. [volume] (Mechanicstown, Md.) 1871-1940, 1888-02-09
A Thorn OH the Stem.

why, Mary, how late YOU are y ex'
claimed Mary Morrson's father, a farm
er living near Weston, Chesire. 81 was
just going on myself to take your place.
The boys have got nearly half through
milking"
"Oh, never mind, father said pretty
Mary, relieving HIM of his milking pail
and stool in coaxing way. "This gen
tleman has been taking my picture"
"Your picture, eh? Good evening.
sir; suppose you are one of them ar
tist chaps at the TAVERN p
The gentleman referred to, bowed
Yes, he is one of them chaps. And
in proof thereof he opened his portfolio.
Mary gliled off toward the barnyard I;
the old man gazed with an open mouth
at her portrait.
THAT'S her, sure enough, and the
COWS couldn't have been better if you
had stuck them in ust as they be in
the yard. And Trip, too, you. can see
the brake just coming out Of his mouth.
1t is wonderful. | say, sir, | would
like to see how you do It,.
"You shall, come this way
The artist crossed the road, followed
by the farmer, and sat down near the
barnyard. Mary sat among the group
of mixers her toungue running fast
about her portrait, while she leaned
her pretty head against old Yoolv, and
watched her rapidly filling pail. Be-
fore the work WAS over, the quick pen
Gil had caught them all and grouped
them around the centre figure like stars
around the moom-like a rustic court
attending upon their rustic queen.
"Well, 1t beats all calculated the
the farmer. Mary, he, made another
picture of YOU
She come out smiling and blushing
Dear me, | wanted to smooth NY
hair aid change my dress before you
took me again.
I'VE will let that go till come some
other time, said the artist gravely. as
he closed his book. ut is almost time
for me to to 60"
Come in for a momeut and cup of
new milk, SAID TIE farmer heartily
"That's what you don't get in Lon
don, Mr.. -
"My name is Curtis Howard, sir
You are right | never got milk there,
and l 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 opposite parlor door, chat
ting with her father as if he had known
him for years.
"Yes, 90 to morrow he said in an,
swcr tea question, just as he entered ;
and it was well he took the milk or she
might have dropped it. He looked at
her keenly deep blush covered her
face; he sighed and raised the glass to
! his lips.
"Yonr health, Miss Mary, and good
husband to you"
The Gll man burst out laughing. Ma
ry put the empty glass away with a
small pain at her heart. She had often
| been joked about husband before, yet
somehow she did not like to hear the
starnger joke about it. She woyld new
Of maFry-not she.
The evening passed slowly away, and
the village clock struck nine The ar
tist rose to so.
Coed bye,' he said, "and many
thanks for your hospitality"
Good bye, sir. If you ever come
this way drop w and stay week or so
with us. Mary will take care Of you,
and you can take pictures of her to Your
hearts content.
"Thank you--you are very kind, and
If am near YOU | shall not fail to ac-
cept the invitation. Miss Mary, may |
venture to ask one thing ofyou in mem
ory of this pleasant visit =
What can give you, slr? ?" 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 before she
placed it in hand. lie smiled sadly.
"Thank you. May all your roses be
thornless forever. | shall finish your
picture, and perhaps you shall see 1t
again some day. Goodbye, now"
He held out his hand. She gave
him hers. The old farmer had already
made two steps toward the gate, and
.oJ with bio hack towardt hem raZlnp