The Press., 1891-09-10
w. C. T. U. DEPARTMENT.
[Mrs. Kate Tannant Woods, in Union Signal.)
 A Little New England Maid.
lCOnt1nued rom last Week.)


 In toll or rest, or joy or strife
 Is there perfection? Thou shalt win 1t Through living we'll the minutes life. -Ch0rlotte Fiske BGtes. It was beautiful to witness the devotion of the entire household to Philip. Even the men, as they came to and fro, had a reverent way of regarding him, and John Dixon often went far out of his way to show his young master some attention. MT. Hale returned from the oculist to say that youth and hope were all in Phil's favor, and sea voyage might do won. ders. He must go off at once, and nc time must be lost in selecting 8 compan- ion. It was difficult thing to do. The genial associates of one's jovial, happy days, or an agreeable student, might prove very uncomfortable travelling compan- ion, especially if the tenderest services should be required. Maida received her diploma with 8 smile, but her thoughts were with Phil.
 It was Maida. as usual, who made the way clear for Phil. While this one and that one had been mentioned, Maida kept her own counsel, but her busy brain had been revolving plan which she hesitated about proposing, until her parents and Phil had discussed the matter thorough ly. ''If that terrible blindness should come to brother, strangers would never understand him, and he would be wretch ed,' said she, one morning, when Phil had received a letter from an old college friend declining to go, as he was about to be married. Mamma, dear, don't you think Paul would like to go? He is working hard, hoping for an European trip in the future, and he would be the tenderest of nurses if Phil should be sick. You know how kind he was to his poor mother"
 My dear girl," exclaimed Mrs. Hale, Chow very stupid we have been. When Paul declined to come to the wedding put his letter away intending to write a long one, with chiding to him for work ing so hard. Why did we not think of him before? could send Phil away with
 
 hearted, honest Paul would care for him. He is the very one. Order your Betty Brown saddled, love, and I will write a message for you to take over to the Corn CTS. Not one word to Phil, however, lest another disappointment4 be in store for him."
 In few moments Maida was flying over the hills to the nearest telegraph of flee. Betty Brown understood her mood and galloped on without urging.
 The dispatch was brief, and was ad- dressed to . Paul Burchmore, artist, West haven, Mass" Inthose early days of tel. egraphy dIspatches were important af: fairs. 'sCome as soon as possible to Mrs Hale, at Shiloh. All well. E. G. Hale.'' The closing words were added, lest Paul might think his kind friend seriously i'll.
 Phil, who was quietly sleeping, knew nothing of his sisters departure, while the father was examining maps, and brushing up his knowledge of foreign ports and cities.
 In a little moresthan twenty-four hours Paul BuIchmore was at Glenridge. He had driven hard from the nearest station and was much pained when he heard from Mrs. Hale's lips the story of Phil's trouble twill go, gladly" he said, thankful ly, if you are quite sure that Phil will bt content to have me-" Philwas reioiced; he had always ad mired 4the3 quiet strength of the boy Lisha; and the man, Paul, was even more 1 attractive. A few years of town life companionship with men of letters, ant close application, had changed the freckl ed-faeed country lad into an attractive, i not positively handsome man. "H' 1 was an innate gentleman, even, when dig ging turnips," said Maida to her mother who commented with sincere pleasure ol the improvement in Paul.
 "Yes," said Mrs. Hale, "he is hi grandmother's boy rather than his fath CTS; anything low or mean would be i'm possible to Paul."
 Mir. Hale's Respondent tone, which hat unconsciously been assumed since his bo, had suffered, changed to 8 triumphan one when Paul put his hand in his, ant | said: ''I am at Phil's service, sir; and in return, will only ask you to look afte matters at our place little. The taxe are paid, have attended to that; and could only feel sure that some one wa caring little for my unfortunate father I could go away quite happy.n l II will see to it all, my boy, and Heay en will bless you for your goodness an' patience with your father. suppose is too late to hope for reform now"
 II fear so, but I never quite give ul hope; whatever comes, he is my father and my mother loved him."
 l Paul seldom mentioned his mother Every one in Shiloh knew that her deatl was virtually caused by her husband neglect, and her exposure in trying t. save him. It was sore subject witt Paul, and he bit his lips hard wheneve he thought of the brave woman who wen out into the winter storm and darkness t, rescue her drunken husband. She was plain, unlettered farmers wife, but al ways and ever 8 loving mother ,and Paul comfort and solace in the hard days 0 his carly boyhood.
 It was not pleasant to visit the farn now. MT. Burchmoie had much to sa, about ststuck-up city folks, !" and e.foolin away time making daubs, while homes folks were at work" ;" but Paul endured it and saved enough out of hts earnings t pay John Dixon's relative, Nancy Maria a good salary for remaining there to car for the house.
 The close companionship attendant O the few remaining days of preparation fo