Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1891-05-28

nesting among lis frs and beecheS, is Kill
more, where the HalfOrds-a merry tangle
of boys and girIs-may be seen at ali hours.
Then there is the vicarage, where the rec
tor lives with his family, which is large and
nearer 10 the village, the house that holds
the cuTate and his family, which, of course,
is larger. Besides which, Monica can just
see from her vantage ground the wooded
slopes of Durrusbeg that have lately called
young ROnayne maSter,-a distant cousin
having died most unexpectedly and left him
all his property.
Six months ago, Ulic Ronayne was spoken
of by anxious matrOns as wild lad, with
nothing to recommend him save his hand
some face and some naughty stories attach
ed to his name. Now he is pronounced
charming, and the naughty stories. which
indeed never had any foundation, are dis
covered to have been diSgTaceful fabTica-
tons. Manageable daughters are kinder
to him than words can say, and are allowed
by the most cautious mothers to dance with
him as often as they choose, and even to sit
out unlimited hours with him in secluded
corners of conservatOries unrebuked.
After last lingering glance at tn distant
ocean and the swelling woods thai now in
merry June are making their gTandest show,
Monica jumps down from her bank again
and goes slowly-singing as she goes-tO-
ward the river that runs at the end of Moyne.
Down by its banks Moyne actually touches
the hated lands of Coole a Slight boundary
fence being all that divides one place from
the other. The river ruShes eagerly past
both, on its way to the sea, murmlring mer-
rily on lis happy voyage, as though mock
ing at human weals and woes and petty
quarrelS.
!,
little brook, past the Stile, Monica makes
her way, plucling here and there the scarlet
peoples, and the blue cOrnhOWerS and
daisies, 'those pearled Arcturi of the earth,
the cOnsteIl ated flower that never SETS
The sun is tinting all things with It's vel
low haze, and is burning to brightest geld
the reddish tinge in the girls hair, as she
moves with daliying steps throughthe green
fields. Sic is dressed in a white gown,
dec}1ed with ribbons of sOmber tint, and
wears upon her head a huge poke bonnet,
from which her face peeps out, half earnest,
half cOQuettish, wholly pure.
Her hands are bare and shapely, but lit
tie brown: some Old-fashiOned rings glisten
OF til ~. She has the tail of her gown
thrown neg gently over her arm, and with
her h1ppy lips parted in song, and her eyes
serene as early dawn;
md now the sparkling river comes In
sight. Near its brink an old b0at-hOuse
may be seen fast crumbling to decay; and
on the river itself lies, sWaying 30 and fro,
small punt III the very last stageSOf decline.
Il is a very terrible little boat quite at
DEATHS door, and might have had those lines
Of Dante's painted upon it without libel:
abandon hop, all ye who enter here"
But Monica, in happy ignorance. of rotting
timberS, thinks only of the JOY she felt last
evening when the discovery of this democrat
lied treasure was made. In the mOldering
b0at-hOuSe she had found it, and so had
claimed it for her own.
S.e has told no one of her secret not even
XII, who is, as rule, her prime minister,
her COnfidante, and her shadow. She has,
indeed, had great difficulty in escaping from
cher shadow just now, but after much
diplomatic toll had managed it,
Tomorrow, if to-day proves successful
and nel rowing does not fail her, of which
she has had some practice during the last
two years of her life, she will tell Kit and
Terry all about it, and let them share her
pleasure. But to-day is her own.
The boat is connected with the shore by a
rope tied round the stump of a tree by most
unskillful hands. Flinging her flowers into
the punt, she strives diligently to undo the
knot that she herself had made the night
before, but strives in vain. The hard rope
wounds her tender hands and veXes her
gentle sOul.
She is still struggling with it, and already
little panied frOwn has made a wrinkle on
her smooth brow, when another boat shoots
from under the willows and gains the little
landing place, with its pebbly beach, that
belongs equally to Coole Castle and to
MOyne.
This new boat is tremendous improve
ment on our heroine's. 1t is the Smartest
little affair possible, and as safe as a church,
safer, indeed, as times go now. Not that
there is anything very elaborate about it,
but it is freshly painted, and there are cush-
ions in it, and all over it suppressed air of
luxury.
Besides the cushions, there is something
else in it, toO,-a young man OF about six
and-twenty, who steps lightly on to the
bank, though it is miracle he doesn't lose
his footing and come ANONYMOUSLY to the
ground, so bent is his gaze on the gracious
| little figure at the other side of the bound
| aTy-fence struggling with the refractory
| rope.
1t doesn't take any time to cross the
| boundary.
Twill you allow me to do that for you?'
| says the strange young man, raising his hat
| politely, and taking the rope out Of Monica
| hand without waiting for permission.