The Calhoun chronicle. [volume] (Grantsville, W. Va.) 1883-1984, 1894-12-25

lane and orchard, the b,uc-birls n steu
and the violets came, Nanuie realized
that she had lost forever the heart that
loved her, aud that she loved, oh. 80
dearly!
No one guessed all the truth, bat
she was very i'll, and they were al
kind; and by-aud-by she got up, when
the ros Is blOssomci, AMI walked about
the garden, wondering at its cheer and
bloom.
Was it the same world, after all?
Everything seemed so different to
Nannie--so very, very diferentl
That she lad repented did not seem
to matter. She must bear her punish
ment and bear it she did with no I'M
wonted patience.
And, nh, what n patient girl she was
assisting her mother, teaching her sig
! tiers, tending the teething baby who.
had worn every body else out-not
bit like the imperious, passionate,
pretty Mamie of old
81 declare, Mamie, YOU are uuite
plain since your sickness !" her mother
SAID, not dreaming what n stab sho
gave her daughters sore heart
Had that gone, too-eveu her little
bit of beauty, which hal found favor
in John Grandmont's eyes?
And now, after the long, drcary
summer, people who enjoyed life We're
going to have a picnic in Harebell
/ Hollow
No; she did not care to go. Besides,
1t was Just year since the day she
had last met her sweetheart.
Nannio's heart was too full of mem
cries of those last hours for her TO ut.
tempt to minglo with happy people.
"Moliie," she whispered to her
friend, as the latter went away in n
trim new suit with its Scotch plaid
ribbons, come down into the orchard
when YOU come back, and perhaps l
will tell you something.
Yes, dear, l WILL" said good ma
/ tured Mollie, kissing her on both
checks. "And don't you fret"
People never stayed late in Hare
bell Hollow-it was too damp. though
such pretty place-and Just at sun
set, Mamie, lying on the oil rustic
settee, heard step in the rustling
grass.
"Have You come, Mollie?' she said,
IN stliled voice.
she had been crying, and did not
lit her swollen face.
Some one sat down on the old seats
mead, aud put gentle hand IL on her
brown curis.
Il Know you're sorry for me, Mol
lie. You're real good girl and we've
been friends for long time, and |
might have told you, perhaps, but
couldn't bear to speak John Grand
mont's name. Oh, Mollie, | loved
lin so He was all the world to me.
Yet | got cross and scolded about the
/ least little thing-my wearing pink
and blue ribbons together-and he
meant 10 harm, and he was offended.
! He didn't dream could be SO crossand
unreasonable, know: and he left me.
deserve il. But, oh, Mollie, it seems
| sometimes rs If | couldn't bear it. To-
nlght--just such u night again, cool,
and the west wind so balmy, and the
smell ofthe spice sweetings ripening--
and all the other nights like this 1
must be left alone"
Sobs choked the rest
''My little darling"
But it wasn't Moile's voice-it
wasn't Mollie's face bending closer
above Nannie's toar-flled, Startled
eyes.
My poor little Ndunie!" said John
Grandinont, kneelins at her side and
taking her i'll his arms. 1--WE have
both suffered enough. Let us forgive
each other. And we won't quarrel
again-while spice sweetings ripen =
An, two such happy hearts under
the spice swecting trees!
John had come to the picnic, hoping
for Il glimpse OF Mamie, and Mollie
had beSuiled him to the gate of the
Jumpers.
Mamie is in the orchard - she had
soid.-SGturday Night.