News and citizen. [volume] (Morrisville, Vt. ;) 1881-current, 1892-04-14

dale school yet, - he said, softly. {"
saw her name in last years report
l suppose she sees mine occasionally
II wonder"
He did not say exactly what ht
wondered" but he neither read wist
books nor wrote his Sundays ser
mon that evening, and late at night
sat at his desk writing a letter, which
must have been very difficult to com.
pose, for the fragments of those he
had already written and destroyed
filled his waste-paper basket The
envelope with which he finally cover
ed his production was addressed to
-........ .................................
Miss MARGARET PARKER.
:..... ......-.............-...:
And as heglanced at the calendar for
the day of the month, a happy idea
occurred to him, and he dated it the
following da1-the beginnjSG aI
PS5as' Was fbeTe { aTs
good to send his teacher a comic
picture on April FOOLS Day?
Certainly. Miss Margaret Parker's
scholars were not, and she knew it..
| She was aware of what was in store
for her, and had made up her mind
what to do before she entered the
school doors on the first of April,
1891.
The boys were assembled in full
force. The girls also, but Miss Park
er knew very well the girls were inno-
gent of pictures drawn by themselves.
rhe pile of thin, coarse envelopes
a lpon her desk were none of them ad-
dressed by the girls. She smiled
#lpon them approvingly and took her
BEAT.
The boys looked at her with rest
less, conscious eyes, as she lifted the
Envelopes one by one. Through
bach she saw the blotches of crayon
bnd gaudy color which revealed its
contents. The postman had left
them on the desk, for each bore its
stamp properly cancelled, but the
crooked handwriting of the addresses
Z WAS familiar enough to her.
"Those impertinent boys" she
Baid to herself, as she gathered her
letters and called to Il meek little
=girl in the first row.
" Bessie Guy, put this rubbish in
he stove"
& The child obeyed. The dissappoint-
#d boys grew solemn. Miss Parker
ooked happier.
"There's another, Miss Parker"
bald the mild little girl, pointing to a
Snissive which had fallen behind the
pig dictionary. Margaret put out
|her hand and took it up. 1t was
letter in a neat, cream tinted envel-
ope, directed in a beautiful hand.
"No, this is something else," she
said and opened it, The first words
that met her eye were these: "April
1st,' and crushing it in her hand, she
said, little sharply: "Take it with
the rest, Bessie" 1t stung her to see
a hand older than n school-boy's in
this letter, though she was not an
ill tempered person.
1t was the Rev. Martin Tillinghast's
letter that went, unread, into the
stove; and he waited in vain for an
answer for many weeks; but it was
curious that Just about that time
Margaret Parker found herself think
ing good deal about a time, fifteen
years ago, when she was seventeen
and young Martin Tillinghast seemed
to be so fond OF her. She did what
she had not donef for long while she
took down from high shelf little |
box, with two letters, a lock of hair, |
and pretty pink-and-blue valentine |
in a alace-paper envelope in it, and she |
thought over all he had said, and re-
membered what people had told her
of the influences brought to bear on !
him when he married Jerusha Crock
er.
Il think he was fond of me she
sighed, d" and Pm afraid was too fond |
of him to forget him; but he must
have been weaker than | knew. | am
sure he never was happy, and how
lonely he must be now that he has
not even her. / wonder" Here she
stopped talking to herself, and tied
up the letters and put the box away,
never guessing what she had con-
signed to the flames of the school
stove.
Meanwhile the Rev. Martin Tilling-
hast decided that Margaret scorned
to answer him, and gave a verdict |
against himself OF "It served me
right" When his advisers spoke
again of matrimony he agreed with
them in a general way it would be
we'll to make a choice. He was still
hoping for an answer-hOping
against hope; but he was weak, for
when they alluded to the Widow
as a fine woman and per-
feet wife for a minister, he agreed
with them, and by degrees, advised,
pushed, beckoned by all his well |
wishers, placed himself in theposition
of a probable sultOr for the hand of
that worthy dame, whose waist was
full thirty inches about, and who was
five years his senior, and the last
woman he would have chosen.
The year passed slowly. It's May
Day, its Battle-of- Bunker-Ii Day, |
it's summer vacation, it's Harvest
enlivened the congrega-'
ton, and should have cheered the
pastor, but he was low-spirited. 1t
was expected of him to take wife.
and he dreaded good Mrs. Mapleson,
whose wheezy laugh annoyed him, and
who was not always grammatical.
However, he felt that he had gone too
far to draw back, and ne had resolved
to propose. The widow might refuse
him, after ALL He could only hope
for that, and then feeling that he
could not stay at home and think,
he took his pocket-Bible and went
down into the village to visit the
lame cobbler, Jack Simms, and his
old wife, and read a chapter to them.
He found the cottage draughty, as it
was as warm as need be, and the old
folks sitting before a fire which
roared in a rather large stove.
"You see us comfortable, Mr.. Till
inghast," said Simms, gleefully.
SO We've had a present. Miss Parker,
the schoolma'am, has been n work
ing for us, bless her. She went and
got the school-board to give us the
old stove that was took down, be-
cause it was too small, and a lot of
folks to contribute to our win
ter's supply of coal. She gave
us a pair of blankets herself She's
a good lady, she is, and never a cent
will | charge her for mendin' her
shoes. There she sot yesterday
a-lookin' like an angel, while she told
us of it.
"I'm glad to hear it," said the Rev.
Martin Tillinghast, rather vaguely.
"There's a lot of old pipe. They
- 4 - 1 . l., & l.,