The Newtown bee. (Newtown, Conn.) 1877-current, 1902-05-09

low made golden lights around her.
She might have been pretty little
water sprite just risen from the shin
ing water or an elf that had come
straying down lingering sunbeam.
Irene's expression, however, was not
that of fairy creature. 1t was more
like the all-wise look that an ancient
sybil might be supposed to wear. In
deed, there was one person in Ryeboro
who regarded the small maiden Of the
toll bridge as a kind of oracle, whose
insight into all the affairs of life was
something of a marvel.
She turned presently at the sound
Of wheels. "There's another team
comm, she said; 81 guess it's Joe
Blair. Nobody else'd be fool enough
to take buggy out with the mud a
foot Deep"
She could see the buggy before she
could make out its occupant. The
shining wheels flashed now and again
where ray of light fell through a
crevice in the bridge roof. Joe Blair
it was that presently doomed out of
the darkness behind his fat sorrel
horse.
!HullO, Irene!" he said loftily.
Irene surveyed him calmly as she
unlocked the gates.
"YOur team looks rs if you'd been
plowin' with it," she observed.
"Wal, the rods be some heavy" re-
sponded Joe with dignity, ''but felt
obliged to drive over to West Lennox
tonight to look at Freem Willis Jer.
sey heifer. He talks of sellin', l hear. ~
eff Serena amt expectin' you at
any pertickler time,'' said Irene
sweetly, you'd better come in and let
me get you some supper. 1 reckon
you started without any,
oval, didn't stop to cook any
thing" answered Joe; II don't mind
if l do have bite.''
His dignity was melting away as he
followed Irene into the house. GLOW
in thunder ID she know l was goin' tc
see Serena?" he asked himself.
He sat down by: the table in the lit.
tie kitchen, and Irene disappeared
into the pantry, whence she presently
emerged bearing custard pie carefully
with both hands. She had tied on a
Bingham apron that reached from he
chin to the toes of her number two
slippers. Joe looked at her medita.
lively.
81 don't think Serena's to home,
Irene," he said.
eyes, she u.s." rejoined Irene. "She
came home from her aunt's last week,
and anyway, there's Minnie Estes
right next house and Kitty Tompkins
down in the Holler. But of course you
won't see 'em, Joe; you IL be lookin' at
Freem's Jersey heifer." -., .'
81 shouldn't make no account of any
of the girls but you, Irene, if you'd
give me chance" Joe said, pensively,
beginning on a quarter of pie.
Irene had percheS herself on chair
opposite him and was sitting with her
elbows on the table and her chin in her
hands.
''The trouble with you, Joe," she
observed judicially, "is that you don't
know your own mind Now you can't
60 through the world borrowin' other
folks's minds nor gettin' somebody to
make yours up for you every time you
need to use it. You've got to know
what you want before you start after
it,"
Joe flushed guiltily, remembering
how yesterday he had walked hot
half mile, while his planting waited,
to help Kitty Tompkins dig dandelion
greens, and had gone home directly
afterward and written a note to Serena
Willis, inviting her to the coming Sun
day school picnic.
"You wouldn't have gone to the
picnic if l had asked you," he said in
an injured tone, as if Irene were read
ing his thoughts.
swell, | wouldn't worry about that,
IS longs you didn't ask me,' rejoined
Irene SOOthingly. "Have some more
pie, Joe.'
II couldn't git along without you,
Irene," said Joe, wistfully.
81 know you couldn't" answered
Irene, regarding him thoughtfully
across the table. "YOu'd 90 without