Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1893-12-21
Under the Pines.

leaves Of the latest summer novel i'll a
iStleSS fashion, as she sat on 1.-The Tav-
ern' porch. The glory of an early
June day was about her Cedar, sugar
pine and dOgWoOd cleaned fresh in
their different shades Of green from
the shower of the day before. Shasta
lilies, wild roses, yellow Violets, and
myriadS of other flowers, clustering
in close brotherhood with the timothy
grass in the meadow beyond, filed the
air with a penetrating fragrance. The
meadow lark trilied in the tall pines,
and a small boy reported the finding
Of q flock of young grouse in the corn
field. The trout were beginning to
jump in the Sacramento, aud the
early anglers were gathered in small
groups Il little distance from her, dis
cussing with deep intentness the re-
spective merits Of brown hackel versus
royal cOachman.
Mary Fenton loathed the tone of the
place. 1t rocked of fish; fish that had
been caught OF hooked, and fish to be
landed The atmosphere was mOnoton-
Sacramento, where the trout are wary
and men are loyal to flies.
A case of nervous prOstrauOn was
the ostensible cause of Miss FentOn' S
removal to the bracing mountain air:
if the family Galen had but known It,
she was more truly suffering from the
severe attack of INDIGESTION Of mind.
Richard Drake was the subject of this
wavering, whereby her cheeks were
paled and her nights made sleepless.
The hum of the refrain, when | was
on the McClOud in 10" Dolly Warden
weighing ten pounds" sounded to her
ear like gibberish, as she laid her book
down in her lap and fell to thinking
and arguing with herself, the same old
story Mary FentOn had not been of
the toilers of this life, nor did she
aspire to that honor. She had been
bred in a selfish sort of way, with
deepest regard for the great ego.
Happiness meant to her smooth sail
ing; Il ripple on the stream, unpleasant
ness; and unpleasantness- disaster.
Ia her trim tailor-made gown She
formed a natty picture, as she rocked
slowly to and fro in a low chair, under
the shadow of the hop vines that clam
bered up the pillars of the piazza.
Even the fishermen gave her little OF
speckled beauties, and the fishermen
were not young. The quicker of
thought on her brow was rather be
coming. In her unconscious pose she
presented a picture of the best nine
teenth-century cultivation.
The world was very serene to her
when Richard Drake drifted into her
life. She liked him. He was well in
troduced, belonged to the brakes of
Boston, was handsome, a trifie uncOn-
ventional, which she rather censured,
and lastly was bank clerk with no
fortune and cared little for amassing
che, lack of ambition that size could
not quite comprehend
At first he startled her in her quiet.
measured existence, then amused, then
interested, and finally was the cause
of the nervous prostratiOn and noun
tain trip out of the season.
The FentOns had only a fair supply
of this worlds goods. Young sisters
were growing up, and with marriage
Mary knew that she had her own way
to make. Richard Drake grew more
fascinating, but she could not vet de-
eide whether life was worth living
with poverty constantly in the fore
ground; whether things she priced
dearest could be given up for one
mans sake. This was the problem that
troubled her as she sat in deep trefec-
ton, until she heard some one address
her timidly:
"Would you like some flowers,
ma'am?"
Startled, she looked up, and saw a
young girl with hands extended full
Of the wonderful pitcher plant that
grows in abundance up the slope of
Castle Crags.
where did you get themF
Bout five miles from here"
did you go yourself?'
Miss FentOn looked curiously at the
young girl, who flushed slightly as she
replied:
'"Course. l thought may be you
ladies at the hotel might like to buy
some, as the walks too rough for you"
II will take them,' she said.
The girl was picturesque figure, tail
and slender, with a crop of short red
dish curls clustering around her head
and struggling over the brim of an old
cigarette hat, which was faded into
a dull bluishgray, and set we'll back
on her head, leaving the sun Il good
chance to tinge her face with the rich
brown color of health.
She wore an old navy-blue blouse
with collar turned low at the throat,
showing a superb curve. Her short
calico skirt was drenched from scramb-
ling through underbrush, and chung
to her figure. Her old canvas shoes
were a trifie large for her, and seem
ed relics together with the hat
Mary Fenton's face lighted up with
new interest as she looked at the 1.-THE.
well-poised young figure
why. you've been ten miles this
morning, and it is SO wet, and they
say there are rattlesnakes on Castle
CragS"
The girl laughed 'Rattlesnakesr'
she exclaimed scornfully Her large