Waterbury evening Democrat., 1892-02-02
WILLED GIRL.
By AUGUSTA LARNED.
ICopyrIghted. 1891. by American Press Assocta
 lfon,l

Copyrighted, 1891, by American Press Assocta-
 ton.
 "Look," cried Phemy from her perch; Eshe's stopped this side of Baldwin's." Sure enough Selim, as if magnetized by will stronger than his own, had halted shivering in every limb, with great aecks of foam dripping from his lips and steaming lather covering his Hanks that ran down his fetlocks and formed little puddles on the ground. Agnes was out of the wagon now, coaxing and caressing and giving him courage There was no more prancing that day with three legs in the air The proud, sensi- tive creature had bent his neck to the yoke, and when he trotted obediently into Littlefield the day was still young; only the marBetmen, the factory people and the maid servants were astir.
 She looked up the handsome elm shad- ed street toward Oakwood and caught glimpse of the great iron gates of her former home at the end of the avenue. in the cool depths of turf and bloom, where the birds were singing. She drove slowly, feeling herself alien to all that old life; but she kept on her way to the market, more determined than ever to become a thoroughly practical woman. The lamentations of her family over the loss of fortune and her own perversity were to Agnes a weariness of the flesh and spirit. She hugged the sense of free dom she had found at Scrabble Hill, and exulted in it with a kind of childish glee. Her experiment of turning farmer was developing far better than she had expected, and in comparison the old life of show and amusement looked poor and dimsy.
 Mrs. Purse was at her door in morn ing wrapper and crimping pins, ready to patronize the daughter of the proud but fallen Ransoms by taking from her limited daily supply of fresh vege- tables. But she was disappointed to see Agnes drive past toward the market. If the green grocers decline to take her load, of course she will then be forced to peddle her stuff through town, thought Mrs Purse. and she hoped such might be the case. But even to the atrabilious and tart natured Mrs. Purse, somewhat perverted by secretly rejoicing in her neighbor's misfortune, the bringing down of proud and stiff necked genera tion, Agnes on the seat of the market cart. guiding the now obedient Selim was more beautiful than ever before.
 She drove straight to the fruit and vege- table stall of Scales and Markham, where she hoped to dispose of her load. Scales was high colored man, dapper and neat, and rather overscented with bergamot and hair oil to suit the taste of his fash ionable lady customers. Now he stepped out in a spotless linen apron, long pen cil behind his ear a red carnation in his buttonhole, smiling at the sight of Agnes Ransom in the market cart. The young man had never before dared to lift his eyes to the face of the millionaire's daughter, but little boldness and fa- miliarity might be pardoned now by a girl in a market wagon.
 Good morning, Miss Agnes"-he who never before had ventured to breathe the name of Agnes.
 Good morning, Mr. Scales" returned the young lady, with naughty delibera- tion.
 The young man turned vivid brick red up to the roots of his hair, the color of faded grass.
 What can do for you, Miss Ran somY he said, suddenly strengthening up and assuming his finest clerkly man. ners
 "You can look at the vegetables in the back of my wagon and see if it will suit you to buy them"
 Scales was glad to retreat out of range of the young lady's eye that made him feel unaccoyntably like whipped cur.
 However, revenge is sweet, and the astute MT. Scales was determined to get the better of this proud girl if possi- ble What could society child, a mere fashionable butterfly, know about market prices?
 Its fair grass" said he, as he came around the wagon brushing his hands, of which he took excellent care; "but of course you can't raise first class vegeta- bles on Scrabble Hill-soil too cold and summers too short. I'll give you eleven cents the bunch"
 "Thank you," said Agnes icily, as she cramped her wagon with great skill on the turn among the vehicles drawn up in front of the market. The latest quotation for asparagus of the quality sell is fourteen cents," and Scales, crest talIen, saw her drlVe over to his rival, Boggs, who bought her whole load and was glad to get it. In less than half an hour, after doing little shopping at Dash and Slocum's, the drapery store, Agnes was spinning along the road on the way to Scrabble Hill with pretty sum of money warming her pocket-the first money earned, so dear so capti- vating, so priceless, beyond any other lucre that ever comes into the keeping of man or woman, When Agnes got up on the long, slow ascent among the pines and larches, where the sober blue sky could be seen topping the wooded wall that seemed to bound the world of her past, she took off her hat and began to sing, letting her voice out in a note of young and courageous triumph, for she felt happy alone in the old market cart as she had seldom felt in her fathers fine carriages. The breeze seemed laden