The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1890-06-18

/ VI BLU bdlu OuC udlg dllCi ~
paroxysm of coughing. "And then
others don't get none. Some skimps
and manages all their lives, and others
just keep on gettin' and wastin.' But
l low it's all right" she said, cheerfully.
Folks can't have everything, and Eve
got Toni"
Poor, foolish, loving Dolly, who saw
in Toms weak face and stumbling fig
ure the perfection of manly beauty.
| Tender little woman, who, wiser than
the world, saw behind the outer cover
ing of weakness and sin the poor en-
! feebled will that was always going to
be strong and yet never quite succeeded.
True, womanlv woman, ready to shield
her beloved with almost maternal ten
derness, clarifying the mans pitiful
love for her till it outshone all the
/ meaner attributes of his nature.
The summer waned and the falling
of the leaves was come All along the
white stretch of road, and bordering
the garrulous creek, bloomed the yellow
asters and golden-rod. There were
breaths of cold in the morning and
evening that made the cheerful blaze
welcome. There were bursts of heat
at midday, like the last gasps of the
dying summer, and Dolly's strength
ebbed with the falling of the leaves.
Daddy came home, and "the two
best in the world " sat all day in the
bare toll-room, looking drearily at each
other and at the leafless branches beat
ing a tattoo on the window-pane.
" And how is Dolly this morning." |
asked, one day. Tom looked at Daddy,
and Daddy looked into the room be-
yond before he answered.
Dolly amt so peart," he said, sink
ing his voice to whisper.
"No, amt so peart," echoed Tom,
dismaly.
Daddy sat twirling his thumbs for a
moment, and then looked up, with a
moisture in his faded eyes.
"'Fraid Dolly's goin' fast" he said,
with break in his voice. And "goin'
fast, Dolly" Tom repeated, searching
the floor and the ceiling and the gusts
without for the comfort that was not
vouchsafed.
And then the voice in the room be-
yond called out: Daddy, dear!"
Eyes, Dolly-baby," he answered,
going to the door, " what is it?"
Tell her to come in she replied.
vi, l. We SOI RltdI DlS scCICl.
she exclaimed, as l entered. But
just shut the door, please, so they can't
hear"
And now for the secret" l said,
sitting beside her. Her eyes were
fever bright, her cheeks burning and
her hands nervously trembling. Across
her lap lay bits of wool and silk and
odds and ends of colored floss and
ribbon.
" Lookw she exclaimed, eagerly,
lifting the lid of a pasteboard box
" Amt that beauty? And that? And
that?'
One after another she lifted small
articles, pin-cushions and needle-books
and spectacle-cases.
Why, yes, but they are pretty"
said, admiringly. And who ever
made them?"
"Me!" she answered with a little
triumphant thrill in her voice. Every
one with my own hands, when they
wasn't lookin'. This for Daddy and
this for Tom, and oh, something for
every one | love- Write your name
here, too" she said, quickly laying her
hand over something. Mustn't know
yet, though"
And what is the occasion?" asked,
unable to understand the gift array.
Twenty-seven comm Christmas"
answered Dolly, turning her hollow
eyes on me solemnly.
| stared at her in silence. She lifted
one thin, white hand, and pointed to
the white headstones that marked the
silent city down the road short dis
lance, and then folded her hands loosely
against her breast.
"Twenty-seven comm Christmas"
she repeated. Don't you understand?''
| shook my head.
"Well, she answered, "the Lords
birthday is mine. Him and me feels
clost together, count of that, him and
me does. I'm glad of it. Pm proud
of it," she continued, with a straight
ening of her shoulders. " It's an honor
most don't get. Twenty-seven come
next Christ-day."
| bent over the box in my lap, read
ing, through tears, the love and devo.
ton stitched in the old-fashioned handi-
work.
And then across the barren fields
and from out the dismal sky and from
the drifts of dead brown leaves there
came the breath of summer day
The rustic of the dry leaves without be.
came the whispering of summer voices,
and | heard again the Angel of Poverty
| Gate voicing her longing to "helg
along little" Oh, the glory in hel
, face transformed that dull, unlovely
room and flooded it with splendor
, Through the desolateness of the gray
autumn day the fragrance of The
never-endng summer swept. Above
; the signing of the winds and the creak
ing of the tapping boards, above tn,
: means of heartaches and torturing pain
e rang the song of the redeemed. Int
; the meanly-furnished room, with it,
homemade carpet, its cheap prints, it
: gaudy decoration, there came tn,
t beauty of the "house not made will
e hands, eternal in the heavens"
:, And so, you see" said Dolly, softly
!, breaking the silence, " I've made these
+ some because it's the Lords birthday
=, and some because its mine. And I'm
uoini on a journey Won know -