The record-union., 1893-03-03
THE TIME OF THE SINGING OF BIRDS,


dows and splashed on the broad door
stone. The elms dashed their long bare
arms impatiently. The lilacs beckoned
ana tapped at the glass, coaxing to be let
IN out of the storm. So at least 1t seemed
to Miss Pamela Kilburn, sitting at her
window that Sunday afternoon.
Tain't fit fur dog to be out; I hadn't
no idee this noon that t'would pour So
though it looked considerable like rain,
too" she said to herself, watching the
hens that stood disconsolately on one leg
in the shelter of the ox-cart.
Alter moment she went into the
kitchen, reached down her old plaid
shawl from its nail, pinned it tightly
around her head, and scurried across the
yard to the barn. Opening the door, she
drove the hens in and fastened it with
some difficulty.
That plaguey hasp is broke ag'in,"
en- fix 1t eff he ever gifts round to it. He's
dumDer n fish, do say. A man about
the place is dretful handy after all.n
MISS Pamela sighed as she entered the
mouse and spread her shawl over a chair
to dry. When she had smoothed her
soft gray hair, a little ruffied by the wind,
she resumed her post at the sitting-room
window,
1t was . pleasant place, this sitting
room. The gay rag carpet, the cushioned
rocking chairs, the red and black covered
comfortable, the half-dozen old books on
the shelf under the mirror, all these were
regarded as members of her family by
the solitary woman who dwelt among
them. The tall clock in the corner was
her particular friend. When she talked
10 herself, which she often did, its clear
disk ticking formed reassuring ac-
compartment to her voice. Indoors and
outdoors the white House Farm"
under its guardian elms, showed only
homely comfort and prosperity, and its
lhlstress led TO outward eyes quiet, con-
tented life.
The afternoon waned bleak and cheer
less. Miss Pamela kept her station at
The window, gazing down the hill toward
small, weather beaten red house.
across the road from it was a still smaller
and more weather-beaten barn. Pres
entity there emerged from this house a
man who carried pail in either hand.
lie crossed the road and entered the
parn, the door swinging to and fro behind
MIN. Alter while he reappeared, still
carrying the pals, which now steame in
me chill air. he set them down, secured
Inc swinging door, and with slow steps
turned to the house and vanished.
Inc watcher at the window drew long
breath, and leaned back in her chair.
chores, Abner is" she thought; 81 guess
them pals was middlin' heavy-he
walked slow"
Every Sunday afternoon for nearly
thirty years she had sat at that east win
DOW watching her old sweetheart, and
listening for an occasional sound of his
voice. 1t seemed to her to-day that he
looked thinner and more bent than ever
before. She had heard him cough once
or Twice IN meeting that morning, and
walking home some one had said that
twant proper for old Mr. Whitney to be
out such threat MIN weather."
Miss PAMELA repeated the words to
herself: "Otd Mr.. Whitney. He had al
ways been young to her. "Well, We are
glttin' along, that's fact" she unused.
It's all OF thirty years sence-lemme see
f--to-day's the 18th of Febrooary-yes, it's
Jest thirty years ago to-day that Abner
whitney an me come home from meet
in together, am he asked me to wait in
front of the post-office whilst he run I'D
TO mail letter. He acted dretful know
IN, but never mistrusted nothin' till
next mornin'. when Mr.. Cutler brought
the mail, an amongst it was my valen-
tine"
She rose, and went slowly into her
darkened parlor. On the handkerchief
stand" between the windows lay huge
family Bible. This she opened. and
searching among its leaves, found sheet
OF iace-edged paper, yellow with age. A
painted Cupid, bearing aloft two red
hearts, lowered at the top, and beneath
were the lines, written in faded ink;
Iyou love me as love you
NO knife can cut our hearts in two.
. will you not, sweet miss be mine
And take me for your Valentine?
Miss Pamela came back to her seat and
smoothed the paper out upon her knee
with tender fingers.
tftTaiDjt nc T,raftu nc - ,,col
little boys cheeks are considerable
bleached out-some like NINE" she
thought, with swift glance at the old
fashioned mirror on the wall beside her.
and as she rocked and gazed at the faded
love token, the present rolled away and
she saw herself once more the comely
village tailoress, whose face was her only
fortune, who went about from house to
house working and waiting cheerfully
until handsome Abner Whitney should
be "forehanded" enough to support both
a wife and his poor, crippled father.
AGAIN she received the summons to the
slck-bed of the lonely old mistress of the
white House Farm" who claimed her
services through some distant relation
ship to Pamela's longdead parents, She
went over IN memory the days of patient
watching and care, relieved only by
stolen moments with Abner at the white
gate under the elms; again she witnessed
the sad death-bed and the funeral at
which she was the only mourner She
even seemed 10 hear the words of the will.
leaving all of which l die possessed to
my beloved cousin, Pamela Kilburn,"
She remembered how, when the first
shock OF surprise was over, all her Joy
had been that at last she ard Abner and
his old father might have happy home
together. a Shiver passed over her as
she recalled the first Sunday after the |
funeral, when Abner came to her as she
stood on the church porch amid a crowd |
of congratulating friends and said SO
quietly, Il hope you may live long to en-
JOY your good fortune, Miss Kilburn.n
and then he had gone away alone to his
house, and that had been the end of it all. |
How hopefully she had waited for him to
come back to her! Then angry pride had
crept into her heart: she could show her
self as stubborn as he! And so the years
had gone by, leaving them just two I'M
neighborly old neighbors, whose little
love story was scarcely remembered by
the present generation.
Miss Pamela did not often give her
memory rein. She had a healthy. self
reliant nature, and life for her had not
been altogether unhappy. But tonight
she felt "dretful low sperited some way.n
and suddenly her eyes overlooked with
tears.
'Tm an awful fool" she said after q
moment, giving herself shake and
searching for her handkerchief, "a req lar
fool! But L do hate to think of him
never havin' no chance, count of takin'
care of his father so long, am now left
poor an miser'ble! Gittin' old, too (he's
"a come hayin' time, Abner Isl. an me
with plenty an more! l don't feel right
10 hev it So" A pause. ~ don't b'lieve
he's ever thought of any other livin'
woman Miss Pamela blushed at herself
in the glass, but he won't never give in.
4 Oh /