Year: 1872

| WnaC nature inlSnt OrlnR 10 pass Ill al
wins heart. The child and the man were
enviously blent in her thoughts. He nigh
want wife some time, but he was hard
ly grown up yet. There would be time
enough to think of that years hence.


Beyond the pine grove stood the Ray
farmhouse, and there lived Dier Rays
daughter, Hulda, who had been plair
child, but had grown into lovely young
woman, with soft voice, and brown
eyes, and long lashes, which, when down
cast. rested upon pearly cheek. Some
rumor about Alvin and Huldah had come
to the ears of Patience, but she blew i,
away like feather floating in the air
Dier Rays wife, she thought, was talk
ing woman, not malicious or bad hearted
but foolish about her girl so she avoided
going to the farmhouse beyond the hill
When Mrs. Ray reached over in meeting
to shake hands, with Huldah looking
down from the singers seat, in her pretty
straw bonnet, trimmed with pink ribbons
Patience met the overture rather coldly
still she was obliged to confess that the
sweetest voice which rose above Deacon
Spicer's wheezy bass viol, was Huldat
Rays.


Once when Patience was sick with
rheumatism, and Huldah came to Offer
her services, bringing loaf of her moth
er's snow white bread, done up in the
cleanest of towels, she had turned her face
to the wall. and spoken but few words
in rather repellant tone. Then if any
one had peeped under the brim of the
little brown hat as she went off the stoor
they would have seen q dimness about
Huldah's lashes. There were things
which the neighbors suspected, if they
did not know for certain, and there were
things which Deacon Spicer, being post.
master, thought he knew, for he peered
at every letter that came in the lean mail
bag from Highlands.


Patience was blind, but her blindness
had both pathos and dignity. Such tall
straight, large eyed woman could not be
easily approached by the gessips, so they
left her alone with the music of the pine
trees sighing around her lonely house,
thinking of her boy, getting him closer to
her intense strong heart, and skipping all
the intervals, and living in the time OF
his return when they should grow each to
the other as the acorn grows to its cup.


1t was leafy blossomy day in May
when the lilacs were out, and the snow
balls were beginning to bleach, and birds
trilled in the boughs, and the sky softened
over the young woods. The great parti-
colored balls of carpet work lay at Pa
tience's feet, and the Bible, with its worn
leather covers open at the family record,
and date of her boys birth, was placed on
the stand by her side. With his dry, Pc
culiar ahem! and the shuttle and stun
BILE by which he was wont to mount the
steps, Deacon Spicer got upon the stoop
and pushed at the halt open door. He
was shambling old man, dressed in a
baggy suit of butternut brown, that seemed
to have BEEN cut quite by accident.


"Good day, widder, good day." There
was half tremble in the old mans voice,
that made Patience involuntarily ask,
What is it9" as the work dropped from
her hands.


"Now DON'T" said the old man in q
coaxlng tone, as he reached out and al
most touched her gray hair, "Good news
never killed anybody as I've heard tell of
and | guess you can stand this" He fun
bled in his capacious pocket in an aimless
sort of way; but every heartbeat seemed
century to Patience. " You see there
was scrimmage t'other day, and Alvin
run right into the mess, just like such a
hair Drained young feller; he must have
fit with all his might and main. You see
the Cap'n he has, went home and Alvin
has got promoted for gallantry. And the
boy, you see-bless my soul, it beats all
what I've done with that letter-tbe boy
got scratch on his arm, and they've
give him discharge, and [ shouldn't a
mite wonder if he was home here to-mor-
row."


Pauence turned upon him trembling
and pale to the lips.


"You are not deceiving me-" she gasp,
ed, "my boy has not been-shot?"


"Deceiving of you, widder? Why no"
responded the old man in extreme aston
ishment; "D'ye suppose I'd have the
face to show myself here? Anything un-
fortunate that way would stick in my
throat, and choke me to death. | tell
YOU he's on his way home, and in fort
night will be as hearty as ever he was in
his life


1t was indeed true; and Patience put
her hands before her face as if the bliss
coming so suddenly was almost too much
to bear The old man wandered on. 81
mistrust there's somebody else over the
hill yonder will be glad to get the news" ="
But Patience scarcely heard him when he
took his leave. She sat there in the red
light of sunset, with tremulous shadows
spottlng the coarse plaster wall, her bo-
som heaving, her eyes dilated, glad,
young look growing in her face. She
was dreaming of the time when Alvin was
a baby; how he played around her chair
and plucked at her gown. And now he
was coming home, a tall young soldier,
and would kneel down at her feet, and
put his head in her lap as he had done a
hundred times She could almost feel
her fingers in his crisp, curly locks, touch
ing his forehead, and caressing his cheek.
And she sat there in blissful dream until
it grew dark. quite forgetting she had
gone without her supper.


That night Patience scarcely slept at
all for Joy. She was up betimes in the
pale dawn to busy herself in the home
coming of Alvin. She swept and busted
the old house. She could almost see the
grass grow where the motherly punches
of purple llacs pushed into Alvin's little
room window. Everything had been
kept sacredly, Just as he left it, the fishing