Spirit of the age. [volume] (Woodstock, Vt.) 1845-1913, 1896-01-11

was over. I had seen her. She had
given me little cold, smileless bow.
Mother said that night, eve
must have some one to farm the place.
I'm going to some city"
"Why?" said she.
"To make my fortune" I said.
"For that girl?" she asked.
"No; never for her.
Mother knelt down beside me, as I
sat on low stool. She put her hands
on my shoulders and looked into my
face.
"She didn't refuse you?' she said.
"Boy, you are in trouble. I'm your
mother. Tell me-"
"She did not accept me-"
"And that's to part us?"
"Not If you'll go with me-"
But she would not leave her home,
and I went alone.
had cousin in New York who was
deep in the mysteries of Wall street.
He helped me. So did luck, Or fate.
In five years I was moderately rich
man. Ny mother wanted nothing but
my presence. She would not come to
me, but she urged me to return to her.
At first my heart was too weak to
be trusted among those old scenes.
But time helps us all. At the end of
FIVE years wrote:
II am coming home, since you will
not live here with me-"
My mother had not altered much.
But was youth no longer-a fact
which troubled her. There were
changes in the place, too. Girls we're
married. Old people dead. The
church was rebuilt, and the huts in
the hollow had been burnt down. A
factory had risen and the factory peo-
ple's houses were about it. Instead
of the old frame school house was q
brick building with many windows.
Who was the teacherP Was she
there-Hetty Harrow? I dared not
ask.
Idly sauntered about the house,
painted and refurnished now; and
idly IN the evening of my second day
of home I went out to the shed where
the little sleigh stood-the shabby
old thing with patch on the cushion.
SIT amt been touched since you
left, Almon," said my mother. Ere
member my pstchin' the cushion?"
] She lifted it as she spoke. From
| behind it dropped something. What?
OF leather. blue with mold, crushed
by its long lying under the cushion,
but a reticule. Hetty Harrow's reti-
Guile
Iopened it. There lay my letter!
"What's the matter?" asked my
mother.
For few moments I did not know.
At last I spoke:
at is Miss Harrow's reticule."
''Shs must have lost it when you
took her sleigh riding. Jest like her,
to lose it and did not know. She's
teaching yet; she amt married; no
A., doubt she'll be an old maid, and serve
her right"
The rest my mother said to herself,
for I waited for no more.
I took the reticule in my hand and
went over the long-forgotten path to.
ward the school house. School was
over. A figure stood alone near the
gate. I did not know it at first. But
on nearer view I found that it was
a more mature edition of Hetty Har.
rows slender frame-not so slender
now, but--just as pretty in the face,
aid fresh and buxom.
I walked up to her. Her cheek
flushed.
"Mr. Craig!" she said.
''Yes. Miss Harrow" I answered.
II am here to restore your property.
You lost a reticule in my sleigh Ave
years ago. To day I found it. There
is something in it which I asked you
to look at when you we're alone. I
make the same request now. May I
see you this EVENING""
She bowed. walked away. That
night I Vent once more to see her.
She had been weeping; the letter lay
upon her knee.
''Such an old relic of those foolish
old times" she said.
took her hand.
"You never answered it, Hetty," !
said. "Will you answer it now?'
cater all this time?
eyes"
She said nothing, but I kissed her.
Our wedding was quiet one, and
our lives have been quietly happy
from that day to the present.
York News.