Y leet LY Seupmeneel

 

 

 

 

Frsruary 28, 1874.]

proceeded to indite a little note to Chester
Farm,

 

“The robins will get all the cherries, aunt
Margaret. They are as thick as bees.”

And Leah Chester, standing in the wide
doorway at Chester Farm, looked off across
the meadow among the cherry and apple trees
loaded with their luscious fruit, with a shadow
of concern on her bright face.

Aunt Margaret’s voice answered from the
sitting-room, but the subject of her words was
not the robins, or the cherries either.

“ve got a letter from your uncle, Harry
Lester, Leah, and he writes that his nephew,
Roy, is coming down to spend a few days with
us. We must be sure and make him feel at
home.”

Leah’s face took on the slightest tinge of
color at Mrs. Chester’s words, but she said
nothing, and entering the kitchen donned her
hat, and taking a pail, started off toward the
orchard.

She looked very pretty in her dainty white
pique dress, with the broad sun-hat tied over
her brown curls, but as she walked through the
fragrant clover, there was a little shadow of
defiance in her bright, hazel eyes.

“Roy Lester, indeed!
wants to; I think I can be ready for him!”

A flock of robins frightened from their feast,
flew chirping away, as she halted under an old
gnarled tree, and threw her sun hat upon the
grass.

“Tt’s too bad,” she thought, watching them;
‘“you shan’t have them all, birdies.”

She walked around the tree, viewing it from
every point, and then, after a glance around,
slipped her pail further on her arm, and com-
menced to ascend. It was gnarled and knotty,
and she soon found herself several feet from
the ground, seated upon a large, crooked limb,
with her pail hanging on another at her elbow.

She picked away diligently, stopping occa-
sionally to admire a robin’s nest, a few feet
above her head. Her pail was soon filled, and
after debating a moment with herself she de-
cided to obtain a better view of the nest above
her head; so, depositing her pail between the
branches of a limb, she ascended till she could
see plainly into the nest.

There were four little downy birds, and after
satisfying her curiosity she started to descend,
when her foot slipped, and all that saved her
from falling was the back of her jacket catch-
ing upon a limb.

She tried in vain to loosen herself. She was
as fast as if she had grown there, while her feet
rested lightly upon the identical limb where she
had sat in gathering her cherries, rendering her
position rather uncomfortable, yet perfectly
safe, She tried in every way to free herself,
but without success, and she ceased her efforts,
and began to consider.

The farm-house was too far away for her
voice to reach, and she was considering what
she had better do, when she heard some one
whistling, a short distance off.

“That’s John,” she thought, “coming across
from his plowing. Il call to him. John?”

The whistle ceased suddenly, but there was
no answer. .

“John, come here!”

There was a slight rustling of the grass un-
derneath, and Leah glanced downward through
the leaves. She nearly dropped—or would if
she could—for there was—not John, but a re-
markably handsome young man, with a valise in
his hand, and just the shadow of a smile on his
sunbrowned face. He took in the situation at
a glance, and the next instant had dropped his
traveling bag, and was up beside her in the
tree. In a thrice he had severed the offending
limb, and she was standing before him, not
knowing whether to be thankful or indignant.

“T trust you are not hurt?” he said, with
sincerity in his voice.

“Not at all, and thank you for your assist-
ance.”

He helped her to descend, following her with
the pail of fruit.

“T would like to know to whom I am indebted
for such timely aid?” she said, as he reached
the ground.

“Tam Roy Lester. I was on my way to

Chester Farm, and took a short cut across the
fields from the depot.”
_ He was looking at her as he spoke, and he
imagined he saw a slight color come into the
fair face before him at mention of his name,
but the next instant she raised her eyes to his
face, with a calm, placid look.

“And I am Leah Chester. Auntie received
a note to-day, informing us of your intended
visit. I trust uncle Harry is well ?”

“Quite well,” he answered, and then the con-
versation drifted into commonplace topics, till
at last they reached the house,

Aunt Margaret welcomed him warmly, and
Leah showed him into the cool, quiet parlor,
and left him to himself. Half an hour after-
ward she returned, carrying some books on her
arm.

“T thought perhaps you would like something
to ieee she remarked, depositing them on the
table.

Roy glanced at the volumes. There were
three of them—Baxter’s “Call to the Uncon-
verted,” the “ Pilgrim’s Progress,” and ‘Harris
on the Pig.” He flashed an amused glance up-
ward to her face. She was looking at him
questioningly, as if asking his opinion on the
books, with not the slightest trace of merriment
in her face. ‘4

“Do you read much?” he asked, by way of

ing something.
Tes, a oie: Ihave read twenty-six
pages of ‘Watts on the Mind,’ since May. But

T have household duties to attend to; please

”
OHS Fe gods and little fishes,” Roy mut-

 

Let him come if he:

BGHELLES AND BHAUX.

tered ruefully, as he looked after her. ‘‘ Was
ever the like heard before?”

Leah was very quiet at the breakfast table,
next morning, and after one or two unsuccess-
ful attempts to engage her in conversation,
Roy strolled out through the grounds to enjoy
acigar. He was walking quietly up and down
under a shady avenue of trees when a well-
known voice broke on his ear:

“Good gracious! I didn’t know you smoked,
Mr. Lester; John, don’t!” and Leah Chester, in
a pink sun-bonnet and ruffled calico dress,
looked at him in astonishment.as she spoke.

“Pardon me,” Roy said, removing his cigar,
and bowing to conceal the smile that would
come, ‘‘I never smoke in the presence of
ladies. Who may John be?”

“ He is our hired man,” Leah replied. ‘He
does the chores, and helps us on washing-days,”
and, adjusting her sun-bonnet, she tripped on
toward the house, leaving Roy gazing after
her, with a complexity of emotions.

An hour later he sauntered into the sitting-
room. Leah was there sitting by the window
engaged in sewing and looking the personifica-
tion of comfort in a cool, green chambery
dress and linen collar, her dark, glossy hair
brushed back from her face, and confined with
a scarlet ribbon.

An organ stood at one side of the room,
Roy was passionately fond of music, and he
glanced at the instrument and then at Leah,

“Do you play, Miss Chester?” he asked.

“Sometimes,” hesitatingly.

“Let this be one of them, and favor me,
will you?”

She laid aside her work, and, taking a seat
at the organ, ran her fingers haltingly over the
keys, then played “T’other Side of Jordan.”
Roy fervently wished he was the other side of
Jordan, before she got through, and mentally
congratulated Miss Chester on her genius, for
he was certain no ordinary person could get in
as great a variety of notes as she did. Then
she played ‘“ Bonaparte’s March” without re-
gard to time or notes, and with a series of such
appalling squalls and shrieks, that Roy put his
hands over his ears, having to choose between
that and deafness.

The days sped on. Roy found the country
deliciously pleasant, and had become very well
acquainted with Leah Chester. He went straw-
berrying with her in the broad meadows, as-
sisted her to gather and ‘do up” the cherries,
and spent long hours among the vines in the
garden, helping her pick the peas for dinner.
And in all this intimate companionship, Roy
Lester found Leah a most perplexing puzzle.

For an hour she would talk on different sub-
jects “rationally,” and Roy, who was a fine
conversationalist, would wax eloquent, when
suddenly, at the close of one of his very finest
remarks, she would make some absurd speech
which made our hero feel as if suddenly
plunged into’ ice-cold water, and which would
effe- -y dampen his ardor for that time.

vas refreshingly ignorant on literary
su ,-cts;.she declared Dickens silly and Ten-
nyson prosy; she thought the stars looked like
candle-lights, and persisted in comparing the
gorgeous hues of the sunset to shilling calico.
And yet, in spite of the oddities of the girl
Roy was growing to like her. There was a
nameless charm about her presence, which he
could not resist. 5

He was lounging in the parlor one day, look-
ing at a late book, when Leah entered.

“How do you like that work?” she asked as
she saw him examining it.

“Tt is very good,” he replied. ‘‘ Don’t you
think the author is quite Dickens-like in his
delineation of character?’

Miss Chester turned on him a face of inno-
cent wonder.

“Dickens-like,” she repeated, vaguely.
not that slang, Mr. Lester?”

She left the room without waiting for an an-
swer, and Roy sunk back on the sofa in a state
of collapse.

“How can she be so stupid, with such a
sweet, intelligent face?’ he thought. ‘Roy
Lester, I wonder if you are a fool?”

Though why Mr. Lester should ask himself
such a totally irrelevant question as that, is
inexplicable.

A hot, sultry day, was the following. Roy
had ‘promised aunt Margaret a string of fish,
and returning from this quest of the finny
treasures, had swung himself a hammock under
the wide, shady piazza, and with a volume of
Tennyson, was beginning to feel somewhat
sentimental, when a light footstep sounded near,
and Leah, with a basket of green bean-pods,
sat down on the piazza near him, and began
preparing them for dinner. ;

“Shall I read to you while you work, Miss
Chester?” Roy asked, lazily.

Leah looked up. Yes, she would like to hear
him, and Roy read, in his rich, musical voice,
that gem of Tennyson’s, ‘‘ Elaine.” He looked
up when he had finished. A rapt expression
was on Leah’s face; a far-off musing look in her
clear, dark eyes.

Roy saw her draw.a long, deep breath, and
mentally congratulated himself that, at last, he
had awakened some feeling of sympathy, cor-
responding with his own. She lifted her eyes
to his face.

“ Beans are awful tough this year,” she re-
marked, quietly.

Roy bounded like an India-rubber ball. It
was too much for human nature to stand, and
he made a break for the shrubbery. He fan-
cied he heard the sound of suppressed laughter
from the piazza, but he wasn’t in a mood to in-
quire very closely into it, and remained under
the elms till dinner.

The days passed swiftly, and the time for
Roy’s departure drew nigh. He was more
puzzled than ever with Leah. Of late she had

“ Is

 

grown shy; he had noticed that she flushed

 

slightly, when he came upon her. suddenly, and
her absurd speeches grew more frequent than
ever,

It only lacked two days of his intended de-
parture. He had been off for a stroll by the
river, and coming up across the meadow, he
struck into a shady path leading up to the
farm-house, and was proceeding leisurely along,
when he stopped suddenly, electrified.

It was Leah’s voice. It came from the grape-
arbor, just ahead, and the tones had a little
ring of defiance in them.

“‘T don’t care, auntie; it serves him right;
and oh, isn’t it funny to see him stare at me
when I talk stupid! Uncle Harry is a dear,
good man, but what did he want to send Roy
Lester down here for?”

Roy didn’t hear the reply of Mrs. Chester,
but a moment after he saw her going toward
the house, and then from the grape-arbor Leah’s
voice again came wafted to him, this time
singing.

‘Shy she was, and I thought her cold—
hought her proud, and fled o’er the sea;
Filled was I with folly and spite,
When Ellen Adair was dying for me.”

Roy walked up to the door and. looked in.
Leah was standing with her back toward him,
her fingers busy among the vines.

“Tt seems you like Tennyson well enough to
sing his songs, Miss Chester.”

She turned around with a little start.

“Tennyson?” she repeated. ‘‘That’s from
Shakespeare, isn’t it?’

Roy came close to her, looking down into her
face. :

““The role of stupid doesn’t become you, Miss
Chester,” he said, coolly. ‘‘Hadn’t you better
drop it?”

The tears sprung to Leah’s eyes. She looked
down, and her lips quivered.

“Forgive me, Leah,” he whispered, drawing
her toward him. ‘I love you. Put away your
pride, and tell me truly, do you care for me?”

Leah flushed and smiled, but when he kissed
her, she drew back.

“I don’t know whether I had better take
you or not,” she said, saucily. ‘I wouldn't,
only to please uncle Harry.”

And that gentleman, when informed of the
turn affairs had taken, vented his satisfaction
ina triumphant, ‘‘I told you so!”

 

 

BE JUST. *

BY PIERRE ST, JULIEN.

 

 

Ihave loved you, as you say
Ihave, only more each day;
Now I know we can not wed,
How I wish we both were dead!
Do not blame me; but, I pray,
Soon forget the words I said,
And be just; I think you may,
To a heart that you have bled.

If you hate me, as I fear

You will, only more each year,

Still, let pity fill your heart

For the wound whose life-long smart
Must be mine, and if a tear

Comes at twilight—comes for me—
It will tell you, tell you, dear,

That my heart still clings to thee.

 

 

THE FAIRY GIFT.

T was evening, and the dark-haired spirit,
Malizia, sat alone beneath the shadow of a
wide oak, looking down upon the fair valley of
the Silverstream, whose fields and rivulets were
gilded by the last rays of the sun. So pure and
calm they seemed, sleeping there in their tran-
quil beauty, that even Malizia could not gaze
unmoved. The raging passions of her heart
were for a moment stilled; aud stretching her
arms toward the scene, with a look of earnest
longing she exclaimed, ‘‘Oh! that I were a
mortal! I might perhaps be happy.”

The softened mood, however, was but a tran-
sitory one; an instant afterward the spirit’s
face had resumed its usual expression of listless-
ness and dejection, and mechanically her fingers
played with the acorns that lay scattered at
her feet.

Suddenly the sound of bells was borne light-
ly by upon the wind, Malizia listened; at first
with indifference, but gradually as the music
approached, her attention was aroused, and at
length, as if wakened by some sudden recollec-
tion, she started to her feet, exclaiming, ‘ To-
day is the birthday of the Princess Margarita,
and I am not among the invited guests at the
castle, How dare they insult me thus? But I
will be revenged. Duke Johan and his haughty
duchess shall know the fairy Malizia does not
belie her name.”

An hour afterward, and she stood again be-
neath the shadow of the oak. Her whole ap-
pearance was altered, and even the character of
her wondrous beauty was changed. It was
softer, more feminine, but less brilliant; and her
voice, as she addressed the fairy attendants
that came thronging around her, was low and
sweet as the sound of the distant bells. Mali-
zia’s was the soft, smooth lip that whispers to
deceive; and:hers the power to hide a bitter
thought beneath a winning smile. Her dress,
composed of a beautiful texture woven by fairy
looms, was of that rich golden color which is
the natural hue of silk. Her long dark hair
hung in abundance upon her neck, and amid
the curls was fancifully twined a wreath of
bluebells. She wore no other ornament; con-
trary to her usual custom, she was resolved to
depend alone upon her own power of fascina-
tion for leaving a favorable impression upon
the assembly she was about to visit. That that
power was great she seemed scarcely to doubt;
for it was with a hurried but well - pleased
glance at her own face in the stream, that she
gave at length the signal to depart,

Tn an instant a hundred wings were glitter-

 

 

 

BS

ing in the moonbeams, and Malizia with her
tribe were seen floating through calm, blue air
in the direction of Duke Johan’s castle,
were admitted there without inquiry or delay;
for to few courts is Malizia a stranger, and the
courtiers, as they made way for her to pass,
neither expressed or felt the least astonishment
at her entrance.

Reaching at last the royal presence, she ad-
vanced with a quiet step, and kneeling grace-
fully before the duchess, said, as she kissed her
hand, “‘ Pardon me, great princess, if my inter-
est in your daughter’s welfare has led me to
forget the laws of etiquette, and present myself
here unasked.”

Then, as if wishing to cover the confusion,
but ill-concealed beneath the dignity of the
duchess’s reply, she added, with a smile, “You
feared, perhaps, princess, that the fairy Mali-
zia’s gifts might bring misfortunes to your
child, Here, however, is one which shall throw
gladness upon her life—one through whose
bright influence sorrow and tears shall lose
their bitterness, and the world look always
beautiful. If ina year from to-day she has
not proved the truth of my words, let her de-
stroy the gift.

As she spoke, she drew a small packet from
her bosom, and presented it to the duchess,
who could scarcely restrain a smile when, upon
opening it, she found it to contain a pair of
spectacles,

“Strange present for a child,” she murmur-
ed; but her contempt was quickly changed to
admiration when, upon examining them more
closely, she found them to be set with brilliants,
and of a workmanship so delicate and so fine,
that she almost feared to touch them. Two
rose-leaves formed the eyes; but, fragile as they
seemed, the fairy assured her that they could
with difficulty be broken, having been dipped.
in a silver dew, which, without dimming their
pristine color, had rendered them firm, and able
to resist even rough usage.

“You need not fear to trust them to a child,”
continued Malizia; ‘‘they will remain to her
when her other playthings are destroyed.”
Then calling gently to the little princess, she
led her to her mother’s side, and bade her look
npon the sparkling trinket that the duchess had
replaced in its case,

Pleased with the new toy, Margarita clapped
her hands; then, half laughing and half shyly,
she took it from the box, put it on, and looked
round coquettishly for admiration and applause.
It was wonderful the alteration that had taken
place in her soft, pretty childish features. Her
deep blue eyes had suddenly acquired a mean-
ing beyond her years, and her rosy lips had
taken an expression of earnest thoughtfulness:
that seemed to tell of wanderings in the land of
dreams. All were conscious of and wondered!
at the change, but few were made aware of its.
cause, for at a slight distance the spectacles:
were invisible, betraying themselves only by
the string of diamonds gleaming among the.
long, fair curls.

The child herself seemed almost frightened’
at the effect they had produced, at the unwonted.
sensations which occasioned her to tremble
slightly, as, placing her little hand upon her
head, she whispered, ‘‘Mother, I am very
happy.”

The duchess drew her close and kissed her,
while the fairy Malizia, with a smile, placed her:
hand upon her golden hair, and said, “ You will
be happier yet, Margarita, for my gift is called.
‘Tmagination,’”

 

A year had passed—and it was again the an-

niversary of the child’s birth. The day was spent.
in merriment and rejoicing; but, weary at.
length with excitement and pleasure, Margarita.

at night laid her head upon her mother’s knee,
and sighed,

“ Are you not happy still ?” asked the duch-
ess, tenderly caressing the fair round cheek of
her darling.

“Yes, mother: but—”

“But what, dearest ?”

“Why does pleasure pass so quickly, mother?
I have looked forward so often, to this day—
and now it is all over.”

“Until next year,” returned the duchess
with a smile.

“We went to gather cowslips yesterday,”
continued the child, after a pause; ‘but I
gathered less than any. Whenever my hand
stooped to cull a flower, others more beautiful
attracted me; but when I reached the place
where they grew, they seemed no fairer than
the rest. So it is always, mother. Dreaming
of the future, I can never enjoy the present.”

The mother’s brow was slightly clouded as
she replied; ‘‘ Perhaps, my child, the fairy gift
brings sorrow. I have of late marveled at the
change in thy bright face, and longed to see it
less thoughtful—more as it was of old. Let me
destroy the spell.”

But Margarita started to her feet, and, clasp-
ing both her hands upon her treasure, she ex-
claimed, ‘‘Take it not from me, mother—it is
dearer than life; for does it not give to life the
light that makes it beautiful? What if Iam
sometimes sad; I have, at least, moments of
happiness such as I knew not before. This
morning, upon waking, I remembered Malizia’s
words, and, fearful of losing her cherished gift,
I fastened it around my temples, with a silken
string. Look, mother, here.” And the child
bent forward her fair head, and smiled in her
mother’s face,

The duchess looked and saw with surprise,
that a firm but almost imperceptible chain had
replaced the silken string. A strange feeling
of uneasiness crept over her, but repressing all
outward expression of it, she returned Mar-
garita’s caress; and, as the latter soon after-
ward resumed an appearance of carelessness
and gayety, the momentary impression faded
away.

 

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