The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1896-07-01

shawl and new dark-green veil-she
never goes out without these two
things, part of her 'rut why, she
would put in better appearance, the
dear old SOUL
"The visit has really done me good,
too. l was getting into a rut, myself,
if not quito as narrow one as Aunt
Martha's.
Most affectionately, your cousin,
FLORENCE"
CHAPTER III.
Tom Walton was hurrying home,
across the little green "square " oppo.
site his street, when he heard some
one speak in quivering tone:
Sir, do you know where Park Place
He looked around, and saw a little
old woman sitting on a bench that
stood at the edge of the gravel walk.
She was apparently too tired even to
stand up to attract his attention; and
she spoke in discouraged way, as if
she hardly expected him to turn
around.
"Why, madam, this block up here is
Park Place. What number are you
looking for?" he said, kindly, sitting
down beside the old lady, and waiting
patiently while she fumbled in her
pocket.
81 can't find the paper" she said, at
last. "But l think it's forty.seven."
every well, madam" said Tom, still
more kindly; he knew there was no
such number in the place, but did not
wish to break her hope down until she
could rest little and perhaps find the
paper. "If you will just step into my
home-this first house here-I will
have somebody take you over. You
should have cup of tea, too; you look
bit tired" He picked up her UNI
brella, and she leaned gratefully on his
arm as they crossed the square.
The old lady was very tired, and that
walk, short as it was, took long enough
for Tom almost to repent his mpul-
sive action. What would Harriet say?
thing he chose to do; but he had no.
pleased at his habit of picking up
protegees," as she called it. What they
could do with this poor old creature,
unless she could give some account of
herself, he did not know.
He opened the door with the latch
key, and struggled the old lady into the
library. There he settled her in big
m-chair, and then ran hastily up
stairs to his wife.
Now Harriet was just looking about
for convenient chair to put her skein
of silk across, while she wound it on
large spool to keep it from tangling.
When Tom entered the room she
jumped up happily, and, giving him
kiss, said, imperatively, "Now, Tom,
you are just in time; put out your
hands, sirl" and he found himself
obediently seated before her with a
skein of silk serving for yoke. When
does man feel more hopeless?
"You dear old fellow-did Grace
get off? What kind of time did you
have at the reception? Tremendously
crowded? Oh yes, that goes without
saying. Oh, Tom, it's such blessed
relief to have you here, all to myself.
We won't be at home to anybody for
a week, will we, but just have some of
our pleasant little evenings together?
Have some tea? Here, can reach
the bell. BY the way, I've had letter
from Florence Drayton. She's been
up to new prank-been playing her
cheer-up act down at your Aunt Mar
tha's. She must be an odd old soul
from what Florence says. You've
never told me much about her. When
did you see her last?"
1t was rather relief to have an old
lady introduced into the conversation.
1t would make it easier to start his
own subject So Tom began as cour-
| ageOusly as he could:
"Aunt Martha? Oh, not since l
was a boy. really have rather neg
lected her, l suppose. She was all
right as long as her daughter lived
Jane. She taught school down there,
and they got on very well; but, speak
ing of old ladies'"
"Oh, Tom," broke in Harriet, "you
seem to be excited on the subject of
old ladies'. You're twisting your hands
up frightfully, and the silk is a mess.
The trees look bare yet over in the
Park, don't they? I shall be glad
when spring really comes. If it hadn't
been for that frostl"
"Apropos of the Park" said Tom,
humbly, beginning again rather alb
ruptly, when 1 was coming through
the Park this afternoon there was
| POOi ciN ciptihS Oh q pChSns i
really felt sorry for her, she looked so
helpless and tired"
"Oh, Toni" cried his wife in despair,
edo please be careful. You're knot
ting the silk worse than ever. Be
sorry for me. You can't waste your
pity on every loafer you see on the
Park benches"
"But, Hetty, dear, this old lady
wasn't loafer she was just a re-
spectacle old country soul, should
judge, who had lost her way in the
city. l really felt sorry for her."
"Why didn't you bring her home for
dinner?" said Harriet, little sar-
castically. sob, Tom! now you have
done it,"
Tom dropped the silk entirely in his
dismay, and gasped, half laughing in
spite of his anxiety, "Well, Hetty
dear, did bring her home with mel +"
"Thomas Burr Waltonl What have
Won done with her? Poor old thipoi -