Edgefield advertiser. [volume] (Edgefield, S.C.) 1836-current, 1898-03-30


their bean singers over the fence o
make faces through the knothole.
But instead of growing better thei
new neighbor grew worse. She hac
the mutual fence built up ten fee
high, she had the branches of til,
sweeting tree Topped off where the,
interfered with the fence, aud Chris
tines seat thrown down to the GROUND
so roughly that it was broken. She
said she had let people impose upon
her all her life, and she wasn't going
to any more.
Papa Bell, who was an easy man
and absorbed in his business, said he
supposed that SO many children and
squeaking things did make them
troublesome neighbors; but he thought
they should have to demonstrate with
Miss Pigeon about the fence, because
it took away so much of their sun
shine. Christine begged him to wait;
she always would believe that people
were going to be better, and she knew
there must be something good about
Miss Pigeon because she looked like
her brother -''only the twist seemed
to be in her mind, poor thing!"
1t was November when Christine's
seat was thrown out of the tree, so
she could not have used it any more
that season anyway; and when any
one asked her how she was going to
do without it in the spring, she always
answered: Perhaps Miss Hitty will
be good by that time. - But that
transformation didn't seem in the
least likely to any one else. She
never forgot that Mr.. Pigeon had
said she was Hitty, though how she
could ever be Hitty to anybody was
more than the other young Bells could
understand.
Christine wonld bow to her, too,
and smile, shyly, although Miss Pigeon
only scowled dreadfully in response.
Far more difficult to forgive than their
own wrongs WAS the injury that she
had inflicted upon her brother. He
wrote to them doleful letters which
showed plainly how homesick he was
for the good air and the gocd-fellow-
ship of Pippin Hill. One of the
neighbors VINO saw him at Pequanket
said one would hardly know him he
had "pined away" so.
Christine turned o little pale when
she she put on her r"tit thinfingcap: She
couldn't 60 to school like the others,
she couldn't go skating; in fact, there
were so many things she couldn't do
that it would have been very dis
couraging to one who believed less
firmly than Christine did that things
as we'll as people were going to be
better; but that gave her all the more
time to wear her thinking-cap. And
Christine's thoughts were pretty apt
to blossom into deeds some way.
Christine had made the Christmas
wreaths of evergreen and holly from
their own Pippin Hill woods, and she
had sent two beauties to Miss Pigeon,
who had promptly returned them with
the message that she didn't want such
rubbish littering up her house. Now
when they heard that sad news from
Mr.. Pigeon she was making valentines.
She had very dainty knack with
both pencil and brush, for q fourteen
year-old girl, and her valentines were
more beautiful than any that could be
bought in the shops, or SO Blooms
boro' young people all thought.
The fashion of sending valentines
might wane elsewhere, but always
flourished in Bloomsboro', perhaps be-
cause Christine Bell kept it up. She
sent them to the very last people who
expected to have a valentine-to ne
elected old people and forlon sick peo-
pie, to Biddy Magrire just from the
old country, and "kilt" with home
sickness, and to Antony Burke, the
old miser, for whom no one had civil
word and who, perhaps, didn't de-
serve one. And for every valentine
that was disregarded or thrown i'm
patiently aside, dozen made little
warmth and comfort in a sad heart;
for nobody has yet begun to under
stand how great is the day OF small
things.
Christine was more mysterious than
usual this year about her valentines;
she colored when Peggy said she
would better send one to Miss Pigeon,
but they never thought she would;
they thought she was only sensitive
about her Christmas wreath. When
Mr.. Pigeon went away he gave Chris
tine an old desk that he had had since
he was boy. 1t had initials and hearts
and anchors cut into it and was whit
tied at every corner; you would have
known if you'd seen it anywhere that
it had belonged to'a boy. But Chris
tine would have it in her own room!
she thought it was beautiful. 1t had
his tboy-letters and diaries in it, and
she had laughed and cried over them.
And now she had found in that old
desk material for the very queerest
valentine she had ever made; and
although she liked to share the fun o.
making her valentines with the others
she was little secretive about that.
What should the paper be but alea
from one of the old diaries, one side al
written over in on uniformed, boyisl
hand; and this is what was written OF
it, the ink faded by time:
"i cant bare to rite becos hity has tn
Feever and ; cant bare knot to rite beco
it semcs like telling sombo .dy. she hell
mi hand tito when she did knot now eny
boldly last mite and did knot let then
send me to bed the fellers say IL she doe
di hav other sisters but they are knot hit,
tho fellers do not understand wen eny0od
sais she will ever hava DO like our aSust'
hitv sais tho Tom Tinker verse and tha
meens me rs is rote on tho 1st leef OF thi
Diry mi name is Thomas Tinkham Pigeo
hity has got Temper but so hav II Goo
Meny People and she is Good way lnsid
and She is hity and she and will alwys Ii
together but i cant bare to rite eny NOR
for want to now what the dokter sais
they say a feller must be Man but wen
is hityi cant bare