Spirit of the age. [volume] (Woodstock, Vt.) 1845-1913, 1898-03-05

he had heard them OH the stairs, he
had heard them III the hallway, he had
heard them at the doorway of his
room. The children in the street
knew Miss Rosie and Miss Rosie's
pigeons, and once in while he saw
some small mortal tenderly carrying a
bunch of Miss Rosies flowers. His
landlady talked to him as if he, also,
were we'll acquainted with Miss Rosie,
and as if he did not fully appreciate
her; every now and then she asked
him to pay an evening call to that
fower-bedecked home in the third.
story of the corner house; but he had
always refused. He did not listen at all
eagerly to the praises that she sang on
the stairway and down in the hall and
even at the threshold of his room, yet
he remembered and treasured every
word of them. He laughed feebly as
he thought of all this. He was in love
with Miss Rosie and he had never seen
her. What would Mrs. Clarke say if
she knew that he wrote notes to the
girl? The red color deepened in his
cheeks and spread over his whole face.
Yes, he did write notes to her; very
unsentimental notes, to be sure; but
they meant more than they said, and
he tied them under the wing of Snow
drop and addressed them to no name.
He began neither with Miss Rosie"
nor "Dear Miss Rosie" he did not
dare, he had never seen her; but he
wrote, in his neatest handwriting.
telling her the proper food for pigeons,
and how to keep the birds in healthy
condition, explaining now and again
that he had passed his boyhood in the
country and had always been interest
ell in pigeon raising. TO these notes
he signed mis- name in full, John Pow
ell. he did not wish the girl to think
some foolish boys were meddling with
her birds. And the girl wrote back
to him; he smiled as he thought of
that Her notes were invariably the
same, consisting of the words ''Thank
you" and her name "Rosamond."
John Powell rested his arms on the
table, lost in day-dream. 1t was n
strange thing that the eyes he pictured
to himself as the kindest and the tru-
est eyes girl might possess, and, of
course, "Miss Rosie" had them, should
be SO strangely familiar to him, and
the nose that he saw in fancy he had
also seen in fact. Those red lips, slight
ly curved, those dimples in q small
delicate face-"Pshaw!" he cried ont,
THAT isn't she at all; it's Miss Merri-
man, and I'm not the kind of fellow
to be in love with two girls''
Then he pictured in his mind vague
Miss Rosie and told himself emphati-
cally that she was as good as any wo-
man living and would make most ex-
cellent wife for poor young man who
had hopes of future success and
who 10, ed refined and pleasant home.
Those red clover-heads would be in
full blossom by st. Valentines Day.
Well, he would send bunch of them
to this girl. After that he would pluck
up his courage and ask Mrs. Clarke to
take him around in the evening aud
introduce him. His landlady would
be glad to do this, and she would be
able to vouch for his industry and his
future prospects. And after that?
Why, after that it would all be plain
sailing.
The following morning John Powell
walked to the store more rapidly than
usual. He was feeling remarkably
energetic and young and strong and
faithful. make up your mind, then
go all ead;" and he had quite made up
his mind. He was sure that his mind
was quite made up even when Miss
Merriman smiled pleasantly as she
said "Good-morning." The girl looked
pale; she thad in all probability
brought bad headache to the ribbon
counter; but John Powell knew that
she would not complain. He told
himself emphatically that it was ut
terly impossible for miss Rosie to re-
semble Miss Merriman; and then he
looked at the girl at the ribbon coun-
ter in calm and sensible manner.
What did she know about the COM
forts of home? She had stood in
store for years. She had taken from
her head the very daintiest of hats. He
knew something about the styles and
the cost of things. Delicate, tasteful
things cost money; and Miss Merri-
mans hat was both delicate and taste
full. Miss Rosie made her own hats;
his lsndlady had told him that in the
hall. Miss Merriman was dressed bet
ter than the other girls. He had often
heard that store girls became exorbi-
family fond of dress and the fashions,
and spent all their earnings upon
adorning themselves. He acknowl-
edged that he liked to see q girl we'll
dressed; yet he felt that it was very
wrong for girl to spend all her earn
ings upon her dress. He had not the
slightest intention of marrying an ex-
trava2ant woman. Miss Rosie made
her own dresses; his landlady had told
him that on the stairs.
Now while Mrs. Clarke was full OF
praise OF Miss Rosie aud her birds and
her flowers and her domestic and eco.
nomical ways, she laughed more than
once over John Powel's box of clover.
"There are whole fields full of it out
in the country" she said. "Why, il
he must have flowers in his window,
didn't he get pot of geraniums at the
f1orist's?"
But early on the morning of the
fourteenth Miss Rosie's pigeons flut-
tered about the box of full blooming
clover heads. and gave little pecks at
the contents as If they fully apprecia.
ted country bloom.