Year: 1875

Sitting all the long summer evening
patiently pestered by the boisterous
children; patiently listening to and
coinciding with all the crop-talk and
weather-talk of the old gentleman;
patiently endorsing all the old ladies'
views upon the best manner of stew
ing prunes or fetching boil to head,
and all the time furtively watching
the pretty figure opposite the brown
curls and hands busy stOning the GRIM
son cherries; and watching with side
long glances the slow hands upon tile
dials of the old clock creeping around
to the longed-for hour of 8; watching
it timidly, longingly, yet half in
dread, Ior tonight the old, old story
must be told, and eternal joy or sorrow
result.


At last the clear chime rings out.
| Father goes to the window and looks
out at the sky and thinks cit will be
good day ter-morrow to get in that hay
in the west medder,o and goes off to
| bed. =


And mother puts her bread to rise
and shuts out the cat, and winds up
the clock, and cautions Melinthy to
lock the front door and "not set moth
ing afire,n and follows her lord. a
door closes and all is silent save the
steady "tick-tock, Textbook of the
old clock.


He began his often re-hearsed story.
He was little weak and uncertain at
first, and troubled over obdurate adj
jectives, and got mixed in the meshes
of polysyllabic substantives, and now
and then covered an hiatus with
cough; but he persevered, and by and
by waXed eloquent. Said he:


~ have always loved you, Melinthy.
When l was little boy you were
days bright harbinger, rising with
the evening star before my longing
vision. Later in life my soul was like
the purple blossom of the sun dial,
turning ever toward you, the bright
orb of day, and dropping low and with
ering when it sank behind the western
hills, and all was dark. And later,
when 1 was at boarding school, 1 wea-
ried of the fair faces that sought to
win my smile, and my thoughts flew
to YOU as the white-pinioned carrier
| pigeon wings his sure flight to his
ing for the beauties of antiquity. Ve-
nus and Soldene and Aspasia and
Catherine de Medicky and them others,
l should say those Others, were as
naught to me, for you were the jewel
locked in the golden casket of my
heart of hearts. And now l turn to-
ward you, as the green summer after
noon turns toward the sunset and ask
you to be mine. To be the sweet
song bird of my life, to make soft mu-
sic in my soul forever. am no longer
a boy; | am a man, with a mans
heart and hopes. See, Melinthy! to
my full height 1 spring before you as
sprang Minery-"


He sprang according to announce
ment, and a sharp ripping, cracking
sound told that little Jehnnie's chew
ing wax had been left in the chair,
and the seat of those nice, thin linen
pantaloons had remained with it.


He whirled about to view the situa-
ton, and suddenly clasped his hands
behind him and turned back-but too
late, as he saw by the scarlet face be-
fore him, half covered with twolittle
hands.


I With one hand behind him, and
muttering some incoherent words of
farewell, he moved by the flank to the
door, backed into the hall, backed out
the front door, backed off the steps
into the marigold bed, and never heed
ing the anxious, "Are you hurt, Ezra?"
ending in q giggle, he gathered him
self up and madly broke for the front
gate, still with one hand behind him.


Out upon the lonely country pike he
paused-an awful pause-and stood in
the soft, sweet moonlight.