Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1893-05-02
"Vhat brioht star 10 thatf"

acter very well during her presence.
Now that he was left alone with the
daughter he was put to much severer
test. The girl had something OF the
stateliness of her mother as that state
illness had appeared In her mothers
youth. Mark had been so used from his
childhood to meet refined bearing with
one equally refined that he found II dif.
6cult to avoid doing 50 now.
"Don't you love to look at the stars,
Mr.. Slack" asked the young lady.
"waal. yas, Miss
"My name is Laura Fain."
III hev always been fsnd O the science
Of He paused; he suddenly remem.
bered that poor "white trash" were not
usually versed In any Of the sciences
ASTRONOMY she supplied.
"Waal, yas."
"How did you come to learn astrono'
myy
"Oh, 1 don't know nothen bout It," be
said quickly. II hearn man ut Jasper
talken onct. He said . heap o quar-
things"
"What bright star Is thaty' pointing.
Venus, reckon"
"l wonder how far It is from usr she
said musingly.
"venusi Why Venus Is sixty-eight
millions Of miles, I reckon"
81 happen to know that's q correct an
swer."
Mark suddenly became conscious OF
having forgotten himself. He recollect.
ed his critical position and resolved to
proceed with greater care.
"How far h the moony asked Aisa
Fain.
"The moons hundred million miles,
I reckon"
"Oh, no. You're far out Of the way
there. It's only about two hundred and
forty thousand miles"
"Waal, nowl" exclaimed Mark In well
fcigned surprise.
She looked searchingly at him, but
Mark looked as II he had simply received
nm interesting piece Of information.
"Do you like poetryY she asked chang
Ing the subject.
"Some'at."
my favorite poet Is Tennyson. u hs
yours tooT
This was dangerous ground for Mark.
He had q special fondness for poetry. and
was more likely to betray himself on
this than on any other subject.
"No," he said; II love Shelley best"
"why, Mr.. Slack. how can you under
,tand Shelley Ican't."
"Waal, he Is kinder obscurelike.
"Do you remember any Of his poems'
II you do, would like to hear you TO
peat It."
"waal. I mought give you n few lines
Of the ode to the Spirit o Nature"
"Please do"
Mark would have done well to let the
"Ode to the Spirit Of Nature" alone; but
with q beautiful girl beside him, the
half moon sinking In the west and all
nature I'm repose, he momentarily forgot
his assumed character entirely. He he
gan, intending to give only n few lines
and not to forget his dialect; but the
spirit of nature was In hKn as well as
in the poem, and by the time he had re-
cited q few lines he was ~ 0blivious to
the character of Slack, the farmers son,
as II he had been the poet himself. Bud.
denly he awoke to the consciousness OF
having given the whole poem In his nat.
ural tone and with his ordinary accent.
"Mr. Slack" said his listener when ne
had finished. ibid you learn that from
o man In Jasper -,
"No-no-I-waal." he stammered, VI
read It In book"
He stole glance at his companion
but failed to detect any unusual expires
sion on her face. He took courage.
"what do you raise on your planta'
tionY she asked.
"Oh. we put In some potatoes and
corn and straw this year"
"StrawT
.No, no; not straw" Mark was a
little conversant with the farmers ar
as LIE was familiar with the poeta ~
mean hay"
The girl looked at him and smiled.
1.-THE wheat was all gotten In earl,
| this summer. am told" she remarket
casually.
"Yas, we got In ourn early. We 3ss
finished up before ] kem away"
"Why. Mr.. Slackr'
Marx knew that he had blundsret
again.
"wheat u gathered In July" shs in
formed the young farmer.
al mean the corn" hs said Wildly.
"Ths corn comes Later. II 70 dpsninl
now"
Mark felt u was al up with him .
far a. dsceiving Mis- Fain - to bis beinl
Q farmer, but hs struck out boldly =
undo some Of the mischief.
"wsal. you -. xiss Fsin. to tell th