The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1893-08-02
SELECTED STORY.
Tony.


next morning.
"What is it like, mamma?'
GA lovely placed" answered Mrs.
Severance with enthusiasm. "Such
sky-such air! You will surely get well
here, my darlingW
Felice smiled. 1t was long since she
had made any other reply to sugges-
tions about "getting we'll" But her
mother did not remember that.
should like to be dressed, mamma,
and sit on the veranda. There is
veranda, suppose?"
Miles of i'll" cried Mrs Severance.
You never saw such an odd old place,
Feliciel l have been up for an hour or
two, exploring. But you must have
your coffee first, my child"
She touched bell, and Rosalie
brought in a breakfast-tray. Felicie
slipped her coffee, and broke little bits
! off her roll.
"You eat nothing, Felicie," said her
mother, with a slight frown of dissatis-
faction; but her brow cleared directly
as she added, " but of course, you are
tired this morning. You can't help
building up an appetite. AS for my
self, l am simply ravenousW
When Felicie had done, her mother
helped her to dress, and the two went
down stairs together.
Mrs. Severance was right-it was an
"odd old place." In the years before
the war, Belleview-under another
name-had been prosperous sugar
plantation; but the ocean had en-
croached upon the fields of cane, and
that other sea, whose pulsations are the
unrest of freedom, upon the ranks of
swart laborels. There is philosophy
in the rotation of harvests. Instead of
hogsheads filled with dripping sweet
ness, there was now-the summer
boarder. So the crushing-mills fell into
decay, and the great copper cadrons
turned green with rust, while the old
plantation house put on additional
wings and poricoes, and turned score
of newly-opened eyes toward the semi
tropic sea.
The wonderful sea! To Felicie's
northern sense, it seemed the transig-
uration of the sinuous giant that lashes
the cliffs and spouts from the caves of
York and Scarboro'-his breast hecked
with the foam of wild northeastern tenn
pests. Here no rocks offered their
sharp challenge, and the great creature
lay on its bed of smooth sand, golden
gray in the morning sunshine, breath
ing and pulsing like a Titan child
asleep.
The beach was already bright with
people, for the days pleasure was wont
to begin early. A small fleet of fishing
boats lay moored at the freshly painted
pier; some of them were being laden
with cargo of rods, luncheon baskets
and water TASKS, while from others the
yet unhired oarsmen, lounging at ease,
watched their rivals through half-closed
lids, too deliciously idle for active COM
petition. Little children, watched by
white. capped nurses, played over the
long slope of the beach, exploring the
shallow pools for treasureItrove of rose
Tipped shell or stranded jelly fish, or
mercilessly probing the breathing holes
of the crabs which honeycombed the
shining yellow sand, and shrieking with
delight at the tiny water spouts in which
the unlucky creatures vented their
harmless resentment.
1t was already hot down there upon
the sands. Later in the day the direct
sun blaze would grow intolerable, but
the house with its large open court was
uncovered in cool grove of live oaks
wreathed with dropping moss. The air
throbbed with fragrance as the breeze
swayed ftfully the blossoming branches
of neighboring orange grove, and at
the end of long vista glimmered the
great purple and white stars of the
magnolia.
''Did l not tell you, Felicie? 1t is
I oh Int al idaalf11 nriaI
ance. Then with her opera glass at her
eye, she suddenly added, 81 believe
yes, am sure-there are the Draytons
yonder-those people we met at the
Thousand Islands, Felicie! What a
cOincidenceW
go down to them, mamma. You
liked Mrs. Drayton so much"
"And leave yon here by YOURSELF"
"You know | am never lonely, and
Rosalie is always within call. Go, little
mamma, to please me-"
Felicie was aroused from a hall
dream by the twang of some rude
stringed instrument. AT first she could
not decide whence the sound proceeded
but she soon discovered in the shadow
of one of the many hooks of the irregu.
lar veranda little negro boy squattipg
upon the ground with "a banjo across his
knees. She watched him curiously,-
slight figure dressed in single non.
t descript garment of tattered blue home
spun. He seemed very small as he
sat thus crouched together, but Felicie
!: judged from his face that he might be
ten years old. The little black face
was really picturesque for ugliness--ar
odd exaggeration of the characteristic
features of his race. 1t wore just now
an expression of great anxiety, and as
the boy turned with infinite care 6
rough peg in the neck of his instru
ment, Felicie's ear, quickened by i'll
ness, caught the multered words:
Dat ar string mos gone, sho huff
Dunno whar eber git anoder!"
Next moment, an ominous snap pro
: claimed his fear realized. Felicie wai
quite unprepared for the exhibition o.
hopeless grief which followed. The
child did not cry out. He dropped owe
the banjo, as if he had received blow
and, clasping his arms about it, rocked
himself to and fro.