Clinch Valley news. [volume] (Jeffersonville, Va.) 18??-2019, 1892-09-30

SgssSSSSSzSMESHlG shine could scarce
SssHSSSNaSsSSa2'ssSF~I ly penetrate the
awning of beech
leaves ovcrhcad-Mr. Pynsent felt like n
modern Robinson Crusoe, ms he leaned
back against moss enameled rock and
turned the leaves of his pocket edition
of "Shakespcare.
''Now 1 don't suppose" thought Mr..
Pynsent to himself, luxuriously watch
ing the cratic fight of gigantic blue
butterfly, "that there is living soul
within mile Of mel 1 don't SUD-
pose
But just Mt that Instant a sweet, i'm
perious voice, like the call of the robin
which had just futtered away into the
blackberry thickets, pierced through
the fragrant silence of the summer noon.
calling:
"Charleyl Charley!n
While bunch of autumn leaves
dIlfted down upon his book from the
edge of the precipice above.
Are you there, Charley2" reiterated
the sweet bird-like voice. "Good gra
cious, why don't you speak9"
MIR. Pynsent Strengthened himself up,
and tried to look through the green
braiding of foliage overhead.
"Yes. I'm here" SAID he, wishing in
his secret heart that he wasn't so near
sighted, and hadn't left his eve. glasses
behind in New York.
'tThen, why didn't you say so before.
you stupid fellow!" retorred the unseen
catechist, with fresh shower of leaves
descending from her aerial height.
''May come down2"
Certainly" responded cur puzzled
hero.
"Oh, but can't, though" added the
voice, with little hysterical catching in
its accents. "Pvc quarreled with Bell
and mamma, and I've broken the bio
china vase, and Pm very, very miser-
hble!"
10 this frank statement of affairs our
puzzled hero could think of no imme
niate reply. Although he was a clerpy-
man of the Church OF England, he was
not quite prepared to give in his adhesion
TO the doctrine of the confessional.
"Why don't you ask me why2" cried
out the voice; and through the green,
4 fremulous char of many leaves he
Mould see the shrine of crimped yellow
hair, the. flutter of pale-blue scarf over
head. 81 declare, you don't seem bit
Interested"
81 am, indeed" protested Mr.. Pynscnt,
with genuine carnestness.
Its all the new minister" said the
fair oncr=aith the golden locks. "Comina
poking and prying here where nobody
wants him."
"The-new minister" repeated the
Reverend Mr.. Pynsent, with curious
sensation of seeing himself in q sort of
mental looking-glass.
"Yes, the new-min-is-ter 1" repeatcd
the girl, mimicking his accent of surprise.
ssCharley, don't be such fool, or shall
throw my parasol down at you. OF course,
it's the new minister. Who else should it
be2 Coming to dinner just when nobody
wants himl And there is Bell, putting
her hair in curl-papers, and laying out all
the religious books on the CENTER table,
and hiding away the novels under
the sofa, and mamma fresh trimming
her cap and making lobster-salad; and,
oh, Charley, killing my white doves
to make pigeon piel Oil" with
a sob) 81 do hope the very first
mouthful of it will choke the new
bpinister! And cried-I couldn't help
it, Charley dear-now could you2 And
slapped Bell, and told mamma the
minister was greedy pig to want to
eat my white darlings up; and mamma
said I was profane and impious, and
she'd have my name sent up as a special
subject of prayer Wednesday night.
And 1 said, if there was any praying to
be done, I could do it myself; and then
I turned around in huff, and my skirt
knocked the Dresden vase off the little
stand and broke it; and, oh, Charley, do
you blame me for being very, very
wretched2"
''Not in the least" answered the Rev
erend Mr.. Pynsent, with energy.
"And I've cried until my eyes are as
red as picked beets," added this
modern Penserosa. "And I've got to
go back and beg mammals pardon, and
make it up with Bell, and-and 1 know
I can't eat mouthful of dinner with
those dear white doves under the pie
crust, and that horrid prig of minister
sitting opposite"
"Perhaps you'll like him, after oil, ("
soothed MIR. Pynsent, feeling very much
like an eavesdropper in momentary ex.
pectation of being detected.