Nevada County picayune. (Prescott, Nev. County, Ark.) 1885-1???, 1891-06-11
pHEBE'S LOVE STORY.

1t was a warm, breathless day in
August. On the mulleln-d dotted pas
lures hung the scents of ripening
black berries the buckwhcat fields
were dazzling white with bloom, and
Lyra Perkins old brindled COW stood
bnee-deep in the river, where the al
der shadows made cooling spot of
shade. Opposite the old, one-sto-
ried cottage, with its drapery of scar
let beans and the stiff punches of
box on either side of the porch, stood
two or three mud-splashed country
wagons. The family had just re-
turned from the funeral.
"Well, she's gone" said Pindar
Perkins, nephew to the deceased.
The tears stood in Lyra's faded
blue eyes.
Il did most hope" said she, that
there'd be little something left
Even $50 would have been a help,
with all the children, and Ebert at
college, and Phebe trying to fit for a
teacher. However, | suppose the
Lord knows best what's good for
us.
Ard so the Perkins family settled
down once more into the monoto-
nous groove of their daily work.
Phebe cheerfully gave up her cream
of teaching, and inquired around as
to some more immediate mode of
earning her daily bread.
Il need spry girl in the store to
upholster curtains and cushions, and
polish up the furnitoor, and wait on
a customer now and then when all
hands is busy, said Jonathan Dar-
row, who had come down to leave a
sick child to spend the summer with
his sister, Mrs. Hubley. II cant Of
fer no great o. wagcs-S2 week and
a back bedroom openin' on the shaft
and her pick at the table of what vic
tuals we have for ourselves. Any
how, she might try it.
Il shall be glad to be no longer a
burden on father or mother - said
Phebe, brightly.
"And there's that ere old claw
legged table as used to be in her
room" said Mrs. Darrow, nedding
in the direction Of the new-made
grave in the dismal churchyard. Il
ain't partial to no such clumsy old
traps myself, but city people take
strange notions sometimes, and |
might get a chance to sell it. What II
We take for itE"
What's it worth 7" cross-Question-
ed Lyra Perkins, with true Yankee
acuteness.
''Waal, not more'n s. to me,
Five dollars amt much" said
Mrs. Pekins: "but IT'S better II
nothin."
And the bargain was struck.
1t was a great change to the rosy
checked little country girl from the
breezy hills Of Crooked river to the
tall, gloomy house in New York
where half the rooms never beheId
the light of the day, and even milk
and watercresses and punches of los
es cost money. She was a little
homesick at first; she would have
been much more so ifit had not been
/ for Henry Uoure, the head carpen-
ter, who showed her how to pile the
chairs up so as to take least room in
the, long, dim warerooms and make
the furniture shine brightest; and
when she felt especially solitary and
alone she would go and look at Aunt
James old claw-legged table unit
the gentle shower of tears came to
cool the foyer of heart and brain, and
she felt better
one day--she had scarcely been
ia the Bpwery a wcck--oao OF tho
little gir,s came ruAaing Ia with heI
strap of school-boooks on her arm.
"Phebe! I" cried she, there's {
customer in the store. An old lady
sitting by the clawlegged table, anf
/ | askek her what did she please tC
want she didn't say word"
Phebe dropped the chamois Will
which she was polishing new in
voice Of cherry framed mirrows, ant