Orleans County monitor. [volume] (Barton, Vt.) 1872-1953, 1894-10-15

SUBJECT or prayer On w ouno SOay
night And I said, if there was any
praying to be done. could do it my
self; and then I turned around in
huff, and my skirt knocked the Ores
den vase off a little stand and broke
it, and, oh, Charley, do you blame me
for being, very, wretched?"
s'Not in the least,' answered the
Rev. Mr.. Pynsent, with energy.
''And I've cried until my eyes are
as red as picked beets," added this
modern Penserosa. "And I've got to
go back and beg mammals pardon
and make it up with Bell, and-and ]
know can't eat mouthful of dinner
with those dear white doves under
the pie crust, and that horrid prig of
new minister sitting opposite"
"Perhaps you'll like him, after ALL"
soothed Mr.. Pynsent, feeling very
much like an eavesdropper in mo-
mentary expectation of being de-
tected.
E'Like him!" with a little derisive
laugh. "Oh,you know perfectly well,
Charley, that I never could get along
with clergymen. 1 can't remember
the dates in Deuteronomy and l new
er could be quite certain about the
Pharaohs, and 1 am always sure to
laugh out in Sunday school. Bell says
she's going to set her cap at the new
minister-Pincers his name is, or
Pinto, or some outlandish sounding
thing. Well, let her, if she likes. l
couldn't marry him-no, not even for
$40, 900. To think of my dear, little
white doves!"
eyes" faltered Mr.. Pynsent, wax
ing more and more uncomfortable all
the time, "but don't you think it's
just possible that this-this gentle
man may not have known about the
white doves"
"Charley, why are you SO hoarse?"
conscious paraphrase on Little Red
Ridinghood. "Have you been and
caught another cold?"
"N-no, not that 1 am aware Of"
said Mr.. Pynsent, bordering how he
should contrive to explain to her at
this late stage of affairs that he was
the wrong Charley.
ssThen it's the echo from the rocks"
said the damsel. ''It makes your
voice sound as gruff as bear. Is that
the - o'clock whistle? Oh, then L
must hurry home and help Bell with
the peaches and creams for dessert.
And I can't come down and talk with
you after all. But there's tea rose
bud, Charley dear. If I'd left it on
the bush Bell would only have gath
cred it to pamper the new minister
with. Asters and johnny jumpers
are good enough for him."
And the next minute a half blown
Marschal Mel bud, golden conferred
and odorous with subtle perfume,
drifted down upon the leaves of the
shakespeare" and the sunshiny lit
tie head, with its f1uttering blue Golf,
was gone.
The Rev. Mr.. Pynsent rose up and
looked around with bewildered air.
"Upon my word,' said he, lone
might almost believe ones self to be
in an enchanted glen. Was that gold
en- head really dream? And am l
actually such an ogre? Is the widow
Wilton positively about to serve up
to me dish made of the penitent's
white doves? By the sacred stock Of
Egypt. I'll not taste a mouthful of it,
And who is Charley anyhow? And
how about this imperial 'BelP who is
going to marry me, nolens volens!
It strikes me that am about to ven
ture into unknown dangers. How
ever" resolutely closing the "Shakes-
peare'' and slipping it into his pock-
et," I have commenced the campaign
and am going to carry it through,
even though it should prove to be a
Waterloo!''
"Dinner is ready, Mr.. Pynsent, if
you please" said Miss Bell Wilton, a
tall, Juno like damsel of some % or
"a summers.
And the Rev. Charles Courtney
Pynsent, who had peen sitting, in
rather an uncomfortable state, in the
"best parlor'' with the widow Wilton,
followed his hostess into the dining
room. There in white dress with a
blue sash knotted loosely around he1
slim waist stood a lovely young girl
of 16, with golden tresses gathered
into net, and tuft of geranium
leaves in her bosom. Mr.. Pynsent
felt himself color up to his temples
it was the very face that had smiled