Waterbury evening Democrat. [volume] (Waterbury, Conn.) 1887-1895, 1892-01-30
ASELF WTLLED GIRL.
By AUGUSTA LARNED.

Copyrighted. 1871, by American Press Assocla-
tion.l
She took nothing; all the elegant trifles
were left intact on the walls and about
the tables, but at last she opened secret
drawer of her writing desk and drew out
a photograph at which she gazed intently
for some moments with half shut eyes,
then tore the picture in small fragments
and threw them into the fireplace. 1t
was the picture of young man of
twenty-four, a dark, handsome, sensi-
tive and high bred face with the hair
lightly tossed off the forehead and an
artistic cut to the low collar and the
velvet studio coat in which he was
dressed. She opened the window to ad-
NIT the fresh morning air, then slipped
quietly out of the room, crossed the
broad hall on tiptoe, descended the back
stairs and passing through a side door
let herself out by the garden into the
slumberous street still chill and misty
with dawn light. A covered cart was
drawn up at the gate, and an old country
man with bowed shoulders and weeks
stubble like hoar frost on his chin stood
holding q lean white horse, evidently
much depressed in spirits from the way
he applied his nose to the pavement and
emitted an occasional weak cough.
"Im on hand, miss" said the man in
voice that seemed to scratch the ear like
q bunch of teasel.
81 knew you would be here Burns;
you're trusty."
"Trusty and rusty" said Burns grin
ming and showing painful deficiency of
front teeth But faint NATURAL" he
added, tapping his chest to account for
the latter fact; "it's the influenzy."
"Tll look after the horse, Burns, while
you bring out my traps. They're all in
the hall near the door"
Burns made several consecutive trips
indoors and came shouldering a number
of nondescript boxes and loose household
utensils, among them a squarish ma
chine set on legs.
whats that?" he asked, pointing to
the last named and squirting at it, with
his legs wide apart
can incubator"
can incubator! A chicken hatcherl
Lord have mercy on us, miss, you don't
mean it? Why, you'll make the folks
upon Scrabble Hill open their eyes.
They never did see such a thing, for
they're way back in the Dark Ages and
never dreamed that an old settin hen
could be beat at that kind of business.
You'll teach 'em lots" and Burns again
took a squint at the machine.
Agnes did not fail to remark the tone
of sarcasm in which Burns referred to
the establishment Of the natives up on
Scrabble Hill, but she hurried her de-
parture, and was soon driving out of the
sleepy town, hraring away westward
across the river, where the irregular,
broken hills took on an intenser blue
and the forest trees were just beginning
to spray out light, feathery green. A
rapid brook at the bottom of n small
valley began to catch the early light on
its foam bells, while one long beam shot
across the dewy grass, where dandelions
sparkled and buttercups and daisies
were budded thick in the sheeny mead
ows. The road crossed stone bridge
and turned sharply up the back of rock
strewn hill crowned with pines, where
the clouds shone between red stems, and
wild growth and brush fringed the track
that grew narrower as they crawled
along the slope. The delicate young
emerald of the tasseled spruces and
tamaracks, the messy stumps with ane-
mones nodding near, the rough hillsides
breaking into verdure, the smells of
earth and budding clover, the hum of
bees in Il big patch of the wild honey
suckle filed Agnes with a savage, free
delight But Burns, as he smacked the
old horse with the stub Of q whip, kept
his eyes screwed into wrinkles, like cir
cles in a pond from dropped stone,
spreading over the stubble of his face
and pursuing his lips, which slowly
formed the word "incumbater," followed
by the mysterious exclamation, Gosh
all hemlocks, never did,!
They seemed to be climbing for half
an hour, with the woods thickening
about them, the clean evergreen woods,
where the light made pathways among
the sparse underground over pale pine
needles, touching the bent head OF dog
tooth violet OF the pearIy Gops Of Solo
mons seal. Soon they hau crossed the
ridge and were now on the other side of
the world, so far as Littlefeld was con-
cerned. Scrabble Hill began here. New
social vistas opened before Agnes The
cuplike hollow lay at their feet brim-
ming with new grass with the wind in
it. Cattle roved, young leaves shivered,
farmhouses stood here and there in the
gray mist of poisoning fruit trees. The
long road was white with cherry bios
SONS from bordering trees, and branches
made slim elongated shadows across the
track. Men were blowing in the fields.
blackbird whistled on the snake fence.
and afar off on the hill stood the I'M
painted, irregular little farmhouse, which
was henceforth to be Agnes Ransom's
home. She knew that from it's crest there
opened eastward large view of billowy
blue hills and secluded valleys and q
winding river. The old house was on
the divide between two townships. at
was situated nowhere and didn't face
nothin," as Burns said According to
the farmer it was askew on it's founda-
tons and cat-a-cornered to the road and
tried to adjust itself to a triangular bit
of ground, making conspicuous failure