Edgefield advertiser. [volume] (Edgefield, S.C.) 1836-current, 1898-04-13

* y OSS>N
WgSSNNS1SIZlsl pant, who locked
.EsIgN;SsMSS;,ssSNAA pfrom the book
,''"''''''''>N he was reading
and then rose with yawn. He WAS
not particularly fond of rainy Sunday
afternoons, but he walked across the
room to the window and stood gazing
out with apparent interest. The
streets were deserted except for few
pedestrians hurrying to the corners tc
catch the cars: but the street-cars
coming in from the parks were crowd,
ed, for earlier in the day the weather
had been beautiful. It twas warm for
the first Of February; the rain, indeed,
was similar to summer shower.
Small torrents rushed madly along the
pavements, the window.paues ratified
vehemently, and then suddenly there
was silence and up above the oppo-
site house-tops stretched the varie-
gated ribbon in the sky.
John Powel's lips parted in smile
as he thought OF the pot of gold away
off at the end of the rainbow and OF
various other things connected there.
with. Years ago, very long ago it
seemed to him, he had lived outin the
country in weather-board house
situated on n grassy hillside. Now he
was o foor-walker in the great dry
goods store of Jones & Cashall. The
young fellow had good mind. you
could tell by tho expression OF his
eyes. and that he was resolute and
true showed in his firmly set lips; in
fact, his whole appearance indicated
the man destined to succeed, one who
honora5Iy would hold an honorable
position in life.
With he sudden sunshine and the
rainbow, third beautiful thing made
its appearance, a flock ofwhite pigeons
circled about in the dazzling glory,
and then settled unanimously upon
the wia1ow.lelgc, whercnpon John
Powell threw up the sash with o rap
turors welcome. II little while lie
was scattering . liberal repast among
. his greedy friends.
That house on the green hillside
brought to the young mans miud to-
gether with the pot of gold, did not
vanish rs he called the pigeons by
names of his own choosing. But he
no longer wished to live in the coun-
try; he had ambitious dreams connect
ed with the firm of Jones & Cashall
there was one thing, however, that he
wanted above all others, and that was
q home This room WAS the place
where he stoppeI-his lodging; three
blocks away was the place where he
ate his meals, his dining-room. He
felt his homecssness and loneliness
very much rs he fed the pigeons, while
the varicgatel ribbon gradually faded
ont in The sky.
John Powell had told himself time
and again that it was Il good idea for
q man situated rs he was situated to
marry. H. was wei! able to marry;
home was sure thing to keep aman
steady and Industrious; it gave him
the greatest possible interest in life.
Il am certain that Miss Rosie is
everything that q maa could wish.
Isn't she, Snowdrop," he asked, gen.
tly caressing the friendliest of the
pigeons. She has made that third
story OF the corner house around yon-
der a hcme for herself and her mother.
All of it's windows are hanging with
bloom; her canaries hop about on the
cage and take flies in the sunshine,
but never dream of deserting; and you
pigeons, you look upon her as the per-
lection of the good eud beautiful, I
knew you do" He gave q half-trou-
blcd sigh. He did not want to make
q mistake where such momentous
thing as marriage was concerned; he
wanted to marry woman rs good as
his mother. eyes, I like tue other
little girl, too," he acknowledged,
while warm glow crept into his
cheeks; "but I'm sure she wouldn't
do. She's spent years of her life be-
hind ribbon counter; she's awfully
delicate-looking to work rs hard RS
she does; but she's fond of dress and
gaycty; too fond of dress to
begin life with a poorm But Miss
Rosie is all right; isn't she, Snow
drop?"
Snowdrop cooed.
"Shc is good daughter, and she
will make good wife, eh, Snowdrop?
The man who gets her will be a
lucky fellow, will he not?"
Again the bird cooed.
~I wonder who will get the other
one!' said the young fellow, still
speaking to the bird. "Of course he
won't be lucky, but he'll think he is.
Shes never late at the store, and she
never complains of the headache like
the other girls, though Tn sure she
has it sometimes. Yes, marriage is a
lottery. I daresay the man who mar
RIGS our Miss Merriman will be of the
opinion that he has drawn prize. ?"
Snowdrop gave peck at her friends
finger and flew away in the wake of
the flock, and John Powell drew down
the sash and went back to the table
and resumed his chair. Bht there
was still an attraction remaining on
the windowsill, box filled with some
thing green and growing. From
among the green divided leaves arose
the rel buds of the clover soon to
blossom.
''rney look as if they had been
grown in the far pasture" said John,