Herald and news. [volume] (West Randolph, Vt.) 1878-1943, 1890-02-13

As the summer went by, and she grew
at home with her new friend, she found
much relief in confding to her the per
plexities of her position.
81 see" Miss Morgan said, sit is the
winter that is the puzzle. l will en-
gage to come back next summer as
have this, and that will help along; but
the time between now and then is the
difficulty"
''Yes," replied Brie, ''the winter is
the puzzle, and Reuben's money. We
have plenty Of potatoes and corn and
vegetables to take us through, and
there's the pig to kill and the chickens
will lay some; if there was any way in
which l could make enough for Reuben's
wages we could manage"
81 must think it over" said Miss
Morgan.
She pulled long branch of the bal.
sam fir nearer as she spoke and buried
her nose in it. 1t was the first week in
September, and she and Brie were sit
ting in the hill grove.
81 love this smell So" she said. at
is delicious. 1t makes me dream"
Brie broke off bough.
81 shall hang it over your bed" she
said, eand you will smell it all night"
So the fir bough hung upon rs wall
until it gradually yellowed End the
needles began to drop.
"Why, they are as sweet as ever
swecterl" declared Brie, smelling a
handful which she had swept from the
floor. Then an idea came into her head.
She gathered a great fagot of the
branches, and laid them to dry in the
sun on the floor of little-used piazza.
When partly dry she stripped off the
needles, stuffed with them a square cot
ton bag, and made for that cover of
soft sage-green silk, with an odd shot
pattern over it. 1t was piece of what
had been her great grandmother's we'd
ding gown.
Poildi Do you realize the situation,
reader? Brie had made the first OF all
the many balsam pillows. 1t was meant
for goodbye gift to Miss Morgan.
"Your cushion is the joy of my life"
wrote that lady to her 4 month after
she went home. Every one who sees ii
falls in love with it. Half dozen PEG.
pie have asked me how they could get
one like it. And Brie, this has given
me an idea. Why should you not make
them for sale? l win send you some
pretty silk for the covers. and you might
cross-stitch little motto if you like.
copy some for you. Two people have
given me orders already. They will pay
four dollars apiece il you like to try"
This suggestion was the small wedge
of the new industry. Brie lost no time
in making the two pillows, grand
mothers gown fortunately holding out
for their covers. Then came some pref
ty silk from Miss Morgan, with yellow
fLOselie for the notices, and more orders.
Brie worked busily that winter, for her
balsam pillows had to be made in spare
moments when other work permitted.
The grove on the hill was her unfailing
treasure of supply. The thick-set twigs
bent them to her will; the upper
branches seemed to her 10 rustic as with
at the aid they were giving.
In the spring the old trees renewed
their foliage with vigorous will, as If
resolved not to balk her in her purpose.
The fir grove paid Reuben's wages
that winter. Miss Morgan came back
the following June, and by that time
balsam pillows were established as
articles Of commerce, and Brie had
offer from recently estab-
lished decorative art society for supply
Of the needles at three dollars per
pound. 1t was hard, dirty work to pre-
pare such quantity, but she did not
mind that.
As l said, this was some years since.
Brie no longer lives in her old home.
Her mother died the third year after
Miss Morgan came to them, the farm is
sold and Brie is married. She lives
now on a ranch in Colorado, but she has
never forgotten the fir grove, and the |
memory of it is help often in the de-
spondent moments that come at times
10 all lives.
II could not be worse off than | was
5hen," she says to herself There |
seemed no help or hope anywhere. l |
ielt as IL God didn't care and did't hear |
NY prayers, and yet. all the time, there |
was dear Miss Morgan coming to help |
is, and there were the trees, great, beau
.iful things, nodding their heads, and |
.rying to show me what could be made
'ut of them. No, will never be faith
ess again, nor let myself doubt, how
sver dark things may look, but remem-
Der my balsam pillows, and trust in
iod.-Susan Coolidge, in Young Wom-
ms Magazine.
EVOLUTION IN CHINA.