Frostburg mining journal. [volume] (Frostburg, Md.) 1871-1913, 1890-11-22
IN GOLDEN ROD TIME.
BY MARGUERITE MADISON.

settled over the farm of the late Deacon
Smiths lively widow.
LIMA, Lena" she called in gesticu-
lating tones. time ter take the men
folks lunch"
Lena, pale looking girl of 10, with
sweet flower like face and ropes OF
wavy Titan tinted hair, came slowly
from the Lack kitchen where she had
been ironing.
With a sigh she took the heavy basket,
filled to overlooking with cold baked
beans, rye bread apple pie, and dough-
nuts, and toiled down the dusty road to
the field where Widow Smiths hired
men were cutting the aftermath.
Under haycoGk lounged a man so
different in face and garb from the hay
cutters that he seemed from another
world His easel and paint box were at
his side folded, while the hot sun was
kept from his fair face by an immense
silk umbrella.
"Jove! the girl for my picture. Can't
belong to any of the clodhoppers about
here, though, with these feet and that
forehead" Paul bennett muttered, as
he saw the cavalier way in which she
treated the laborers' advances.
When she had returned home he asked
some cautious questions about the nut
brown maid who mad crossed his path
He learned that she was waif who had
been left in the Norrisville express Is
years ago, and that Mrs. Smith, being on
the train at the time, had adopted her,
"knowin' as she'd get a hired gal for
nothin' by so DOM, Jed Jones said
dryly.
bennett concluded few days later
that the country hotel fare was dong
him no good, and that real farm life
would suit him down to the ground.
Mrs. Smith, nothing 10th to make an
honest dollar, took him in "jusG to ac-
commodate, as she informed him
dozen times a day.
By judicious cajoling of the old lady,
and the Offering of a neat little sum IN
gold, the widow hired a small girl to do
Lena's work. and Lena was to help the
boarder with his picture.
81 'spose she mixes up his paint for
him and washes his brushes, she told
her cronies. for Paul bennett had or
dered that he should never De disturbed
at his work.
If Widow Smith could have seen the
interior of the little north room, where
Denne worked, she would have been
Mortified.
For long hour, Lena, in her dusky
beauty, would stand against draperles OF
old mellow silks dressed in a gown of
pale golden Grape, her cleaning arms
I,,;, L.. tbnc, Gb1r,n1v
arms masses of glorious golden rod.
"Goldie, lie would say when she grew
tired, read to me, and throwing her
self at his feet the girl would read parts
of poems and plays in a mastery way,
for the true teacher, Nature, had taught
this child one way to express her pas
sionate soul in her ISOLATED life.
The picture was finished and Paul
bennett was to return to the city; he
held the girl in his arms for the last
time.
"In month you shall come to me,
my beautiful Goldenrod. he said
Shall we be married here or in the
city," she asked innocently.
Great heavens!" lie exclaimed, mar
ried! Why, my dear child, l have one
wife.
Nature had taught this girl, and with
one bound she tore herself from his
arms and he did not see her again.
Before he left the farmhouse she had
gone-no one knew where-and for ten
long years he did not see her face
Tie years prospered him. leaving but
few traces on his fair blonde beauty.
And yet shadow followed him ever,
the shadow of girl with passionate
dark eyes, the shadow of the girl whom
he had SO terribly insulted.
He had never sold the "Goldenrod"
picture, though critics declared it to be
his masterpiece. Sill it hung on his
studio walls.
Paul has never been the same since
that month he spent in Vermont" his
wife said; "he swears It's but an ideal
face, yet the goldenrod girl has come
between us.
Paups wife sickened and died In the
second year of his widowerhood he went
one night to see a famous actress in
wonderful play which he had neverseen.
1t was said to be Mile. Glorie Dijon's
last appearance, but as she was young,
beautiful, and talented actress, this
was sneered at as a clever ADVERTISE
ment.
The curtain rose, the play went on, as
plays do. Paul in his box watched it
listlesSly until the star appeared upon
the stage.
She was a queenly woman, in yellow
crepe with the national flower at her
breast.
Paul staggered to the green room,
where he was always welcome. The
star raised her eyes to his.
81 must see you tonight after the
play" he whispered huskily.
For ansM er she held out her card.
A French maid answered his knock.
soul; madamoiselle would see him."
she said
He found his lost love in a sumptuous
tea gown Of plush and priceless lace;
diamonds glittered in her hair, at the
throat, and on her arms.
Il have come to offer you my sorrow,
to sue for forgiveness, and to lay my
heart and hand at your feet, for my wife
is dead.
"You shall have my answer in a mo-
ment," she replied, sweeping from the
room.
In few moments she returned, her
radiant costume gone; in its place nuns
dress with crucifix and rosary.
"This is my answer" she said, point