The Forest Republican. [volume] (Tionesta, Pa.) 1869-1952, 1890-08-20
A PRISONER OF WAR.
BY HELEN FORREST GRAVES.

''There she comes now," cried Kitty
Coram, standing on tiptoe to peep over
the great gate in front of the old brick
house.
And George, her elder sister, came
hyingrsp the snowy path, with cheeks
like roses, brown eyes that sparkled mer-
rily, and huge, fiat parcel under her
arm.
''Do look like the town carrier2" she
demanded, jubilantly. "Oh, have run
so fast from the train, to get into the
woodpath before the grand sleigh from
Orn1w an Hall overlook me. l can't bear
Mrs. Wtmistan to put up her eyeglasses
at me and drawl out, 'How do you do,
ma deahl How's your deah avntl"
"Well, George, what luck2"
"Oh, Splendid" the new arrival
breathlessly responded. "Seven yards
of three-inch deep embroidery on white
merino. And we're to get dollar a
yard, if it suits. E"
"Seven dollars" repeated Kitty. "a
deal of money, isn't iti But how we
shall have to work for It'll"
'lt's world of work, responded the
elder girl, clapping her cold hands to re-
store the circulation and making haste to
unfasten the collar of her black cloth
coat. "How nice the fire looks. Just
like picture. What blessing it is that
our wood doesn't cost us anythingl"
ooh, by-the-way," said Kitty, "old
Giles wanted to chop down the big, black
oak tree next"
"What! The big one on the edge of
the swamp To cut it down. Is he
Goth, or a Vandall"
"Just what said. It's the only tree
in the neighborhood that has mistletoe
growing all over it. ] wouldn't lose that
beautiful old tree for hundred sollars!"
"Neither would l, said George, ,drily.
Especially as don't know of anybody
who would offer us a hundred dollars for
it."
Just at that moment, by one of those
strange condolences which are more
common in this world than people have
any idea of, old Jane, the rheumatic
servant, came hobbling to the door.
"Does Aunty Anne want us, janet"
cried eager Georgia. 'I'm going to her
directly"
"'Tain't your aunt, miss" said Jane.
"It's Mr.. Miles, the footman, from
Ormistan Hail."
George turned, with glittering eyes,
to her sister.
al told you so," she whispered.
"We're going to be invited, after oil, to
the party"
Sand he says" droned on Jane, "his
missus wants to know what you'll take
for all the dark green shiny leaves
mistletoe, you calls 'em, doesn't youf-
on the big swamp oak. They want it for
decorations.
A sudden change passed over Georges
face, such as comes across a landscape
when the sun retires behind o cloud.
Kitty froze visibly also.
"Tell Mr.. Miles, from Ormistan Hall, I"
said George, "to give my compliments
Miss Coram's-to his mistress, and say
that the mistletoe is not for sale."
Old Jane withdrew. George and
Katy stood looking at each other.
"Oh, George, "said the younger, "did
you want SO much to gol But told
you how it would be; they never had the
least idea Of inviting us. We don't be-
long to the enchanted circle"
"Yet they brought Colonel Hay here
in wild strawberry time TO spend the day
down by the Moss Rocks" said George,
in slightly treRulous voice. "And
they always bring picnic parties here in
summer TO go over the old house and
row on our lake."
"We are convenience" said Kitty.
''We are not on Miss Ormiston's regular
visiting list"
'But / did think that Colonel Hay
would have called, after all he said that
day." softly murmured George.
"And so he would, you may be very
sure, )" said Kitty, "if Dorinda Ormiston
would have let him. She's a deal too
polite George dear, 10 let him contrast
her thirty-year-old complexion and
pale-blue eyes with your roses and spar
kles."
swell, it doesn't matter much now" 4"
said George, mournfully. 81 dare say
he has forgotten us--there's no earthly
reason why he shouldn't. Now l must
go up TO Aunty Annes ana tell her all
my adventures in New York"
For old Miss Coram sat up in her
room, neatly embroidering flannel for
an order from the South. A lady born
and bred, yet she saw no degradation in
these bTead-earning tasks.
ats hard on the girls" said she.
"For their sakes, could wish that the
Corams had retained somewhat of their
old prosperity. But for an old woman
like me, it doesn't matter"
Meanwhile, at Ormistan Hall, Miss
Dorinda was experimenting the decora-
tions of the great saloon parlor, which
was to be made a dancing room of, on
the occasion of the impending ball.
"Spruce boughs and hemlocks are all
very well in their way" said she, "but
how / do wish I'd thought, when l was
in New York this morning, to get some
of that loTeiv, ShadoWy mistletoe the