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

farm was not productive. Poverty
pinch, the inevitable recurrence of ths
same things to be done day after day
month after month, the same needs fol
lowed by the same fatigues-all these
Brie had to bear; and all the while the
child had that love and longing for the
beautiful which is part OF the artists
equipment, and the deprivation Of
which is keen suffering Sweet sights
sounds, smells-all these she craved
and could get only in such measure as
her daily work enabled her to get from
that world of nature which is the salts
faction of eager hearts to whom all
other pleasures are denied
The fir wood on the upper hill was
the temple where she worshiped.
| There she went with her Bible Sunday
afternoons, with her patching and stock.
ing mending on other days. There she
dreamed her dreams and prayed her
prayers, and while there she was con-
tent. But all too soon would come the
sound of the horn blown from below, or
call from the house, "Brie, Brie, the
men are coming to supper; make haste!'
and she would be forced to hurry back
| to the work-a-daY world.
Harder times followed. When she
was just twenty her father fell from his
loaded hay wagon and fractured his
thigh. There was no cure for the hurt,
and after six months of hopeless attend
ance he died. Brie and her mother were
left together on the lonely farm, with
the added burden Of large bill for doc
toring and medicines, which pressed like
heavy weight on their honorable
hearts.
The Hired man, Reuben Hall, was well
disposed and honest, but before Mr.
Dorset's death he had begun to talk Of
going West, and Brie foreboded that he
might not be willing to stay with them.
Mrs. Dorset, broken down by nursing
and sorrow, had become an invalid, un-
able to assist, save in the lightest way.
The burden was sore for one pair of
young shoulders TO bear. Brie kept up
brave face by day, but at night hor-
rors of helplessness and apprehension
seized her. The heavens seemed as
brass against which her feeble prayers
beat in vain; the future was barred, as
it were, with an impossible gate.
What could she do? Sell the farm?
That would take time, for no one in par
ticular wanted to buy it. II Reuben
would only stay by them they might be
able to fight it out for another year, and,
what with butter and eggs and the corn
crop, make enough for his wages and
bare living. But would Reuben stay?
Our virtues sometimes treat us as in
vestments do, and return a dividend
when we least expect it. 1t was at this
hard crisis that certain good deeds OF
Brie's in the past stood her friend. She
had always been good to Reuben, and
her sweet ways and consideration for
his comfort had gradually won a pass
age into his rather stolid affections
Now seeing the emergency she was in,
and the courage with which she met it,
he could not quite find the heart to
'leave the little gal to make out by her
self" Fully purposing to go, he stayed,
month to month, and though true to his
idea of proper caution, he kept his good
intentions TO himself, so that the relief
Of having him there was constantly
tempered by the dread lest he might go
at any time; still it was a relief.
So April passed, and May and June.
The crops were planted, the vegetables
in. Brie strained every nerve. She
petted her hens and coaxed every posi-
BILE egg out of them, she studied the
tastes of the two cows, she maintained
a brave show OF cheer for her ailing
mother, but all the time she was sick at
heart Every thing seemed closing in.
How long could she keep it up?
The balsam frs OF the hill grove
could have told tales in those days.
They were Brie's sole confidants. The
consolation they gave, the counsel they
communicated, we're mute indeed, but
none the less real to the anxious girl
who sat beneath them, or laid her cheek
on their rough stems June passed, and
with early July came the answer to
Brie's many prayers. 1t came, as an
swers to prayers often do, in shape OF
which she had never dreamed.
Miss Mary Morgan, teacher in Gram
mar School No. 3, Ward Nineteen, Of
the good city of Boston, came, tired out
from her winters work, to spend few
days with Farmer Aliens wife, her Sec
ond cousin, stopped one day at the Dor
sets door, while driving, to ask for
drink of water, took fancy to the old
home and Brie, and the next day came
over to propose herself as boarder for
three months
81 can only afford to pay seven dollars
a week." she said, "but on the other
hand l will try not to make much |
trouble, if you will take me-"
''Seven dollars week; only think"
cried Brie, gleefully, to her mother, after
the bargain was completed and Miss
Morgan gone. Doesn't it seem like |
a fortune? It'll pay Reuben's wages, and
leave ever so much over. And she /
doesn't eat much meat, she says, and |
she likes baked potatoes and cream and |
sweet baked apples better than any
thing. And there's the keeping-room |
all cleaned and ready. Doesn't
it seem as ifshe was sent to us, mother?"
''Your poor father never felt like
keepin' boarders said Mrs Dorset CT