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TLe Bonset was paintsing all the forest pathswitb gold; the niossy holes of the old trees fflowed 11 tho levcl light, as if thoy had been carved cmt of glitteïtog bronze, and the scarlet vines the stone wall caught new splendor from the last rays, while the silverywhite fringe of the wild clematis swung from tho dead thorn-bushes, and here and there a bird, perched high np against tho deep, vivid blue of the heavens, uttered ilsshrill, clear vespefnote; and Mr. Caryl, walking homo through the Westbrook woods, thought what i beautiful world thJs was that God had made. Mr. Caryl was only foitr and twenty, and had been in the Westbrook pai for three months. Not long, but long enotigh to discern, by the testimony of bis own experience, that there ■ tliorns as wcü as ï'oses in a country i tor's life. It had seemed so beautiful and ideal, wlion lie looked at it throua'h the dium of bis feñcy, átandin on the hold of the Theological Seaiinary. It was beautiful still; but the ideality mt of it. Ilis moilmr mt OU Ilie door of the parsonage - a brisk, speetacled litilo dame, i; a fcurned black silk. wiih frills of neatly-darned lace, and violet ribbons in her cap. "Well, Charles," shesaid, cheerüy, "here's a whole slate iull of calis for you." Mr. Caryl'a countenance rather feil. He had been anticipating an eveningby the wood-fire, with the last number of BlackwoocVs Magazine. "Calis?" he repeated. "What are they? andwhere are theyP" He went into the little parlor as he spoke - the parlor where the coveted wood-fire was leaping and flashing on tlic bright andirons, and a shaded lamp was already burning on the table anaong his piled-up books andpapers - andtook ut) the litüe slate. "The WidowCoïsett," horend; adding, solto voce: "That woman again! She has died once a week, reeularly, ever sinoe 1 have been in VVTestbrook."" "Charles!" mildly reprovcd his moüier. "It's a fact," asserted the y8tmg elergyman. "I don't think people : to confound hypochondria and religión in this bliiulfold sort of way. Shed a deal better send for the doctor and Ieave ofl" scolding that wrotchcd adopted daughter of hors. I vron't go - that's settled. What noxt? 'Meet Deacon Daley and old Captain Hartwick at Fowlersvillo Fonr Corners at half-past nino to-morrow?' Now I wonder why peoplo can't agree about their own boundary lines without callig in tho clergyrnan of tho parish as umpire between them." " Dissensisn is sucli a drcadftil thiug among your flock, Charles," said his ïnotlier. "Sois scarlct fever, or small-pox," said Mr. Cary!, rather eurtly; " but all the saruc I don't sce how I can be held respoñsible íor cither tho one or the othêr. 'Lendthe manuscript of your But l haven" t uny manuscript to read - only hall a dozen memoranda, I preaehed ontirely extemporc, last Sunday." " Couldn't j-on just write it offfvom memory?" said Mrs. Caryl, piteously. " Tlie poor oíd lady seema so anxious. She said the sormou impressed her so deeply." " Keally, mothcr, I think that's nlittle unreasonable," said the pastor. "Suppose every old lady in the parish were to require ms to write oi;t a twelve-pag-c sermón for her benctit! ' Give Miss Eïtts a Ust of hymna for next Sunday.' Yos, ril do tbat- as well now as my time. 'Speak to Mrs. Pnme's Sarah.' Mrs. Prune'a Sarah? YVho is Mrs. Trunc's Sarah. And wliat am T to speak to lier about, I'd like to knowP demanded this yung clcrgyrnan, in a sort of rnild despêration. "Don'tyou know?" explained Mrs. Caryl. ' 'It' s Mrs. Prime that lives down by the Bteam saw-mill, in tJie big white house, with the poplar trees in tront of it. And Wa her stepdanghter, that's come home from the third situation, all on account of the ribbons in her hat, and her pride in her own pretty face." "And I am to spoak to her, ch?" said the young pastor. " Yes; you ai-e to speak to her, said his mpther. "I shall do nothing of the sort," dcclarod Mr. CV.vy!, v.iiK gome emphasis. "Bilt you must, CharJesl" pleaded the old lady, "It's m the line of your regular duty." Mr. Caryl hesitated, and wrinkïed his brow in soro perplexity. " J)o you think sor"'' said he. 'Tra sureof it!" declared tho old lady. (Jonscientiotisness was one of the ''■' potói of Mr, Carji's oharaoter. He took 6p his fiat. "If it's got to be done;"' said he, desperately-, " the sooner the bëttcr!" "But vou'll stop for your toa first-.. ChariesP" uro-cd Mrs. Caryl. "Hot corn bread and strawbeiTV jam." " ril stn) íor notliing!" snnl Mr. Caryl. " Don't fret little mother; t wón'ttake me long to speak to Sarah." And he disappeared with a laugh. As it happened lio never before liad callea apon to practico this partioular branch of his profession, pleading with the rebellioua lambs of Iris who thought more of thoir bright cyos than they áid of thew hymn i;, .oís'; and he turned the matter ofer in his mmd as lie walked along tiio fi ■vvoodlaiyl path, Vaere the young ra cast a fitful, evanescent light, aad the I : caves sent up a faint odor beneath his fe "Spcak to Sarah," ho rmittorcd to himsclf, uot withoLit a certain perception of tlio ridic le of the matten " And what am I to say to lier, I wonder?" Ho kaocked softly at the big front door of Die Pruno mansion. A shuffting, untídy ghrl of fourteen or fifteen opened it, hiding bohind a shawl and a fringe of curl-papers. "Is Mrs. Primo at home?" said hn. " No, she ain't," retorted the girl. Mr. Caryl pausod. He scarcely know what question to ask next. "Is Sarah at home?" ho demandcd, after a little. 'MissSarahf" "AVcll, I suppose it can liardlybe 'Mr.' Sarah," .said tho young olergynian, half smilingly. "Ycs, Miss Sarah of coursc." " SAe'g at home," said tho girl, aagraciously, opening the door a litllo i wider. "Came tliis arternoon. Sottin' ín the parlor. Walk in, please." And without further ceromony, Mr. Caryl found himself ushered into a semi-dark apartment, where a tall, slender young beauty of eighteon sum mora or so gat before the fire, in a plain black dress, with_the simplest of culis ' .uit! cutíais, mm ;o Oingle it;;:; íii)bon fastened into the thick, darkbraids of hor hair - a person so entir ent from what he had expected" to seo that he stopped short in somc perplexity. ' Ts this - ahem! - SarahP" he .iskod. "I am Sarah Fielding," site responded. "I havo callod- to speak to you," said lic, with a desperate ralhdngof his verbal forccs. " Perbaps, Sarah, you may not know who I amP" "No, I don't," said the girl, in some surprise. " I am Mr. Caryl, tlic pastor of the parish." " I am hnppy to make your acquaintancc," said the girl, putting out onc slim hand, in tlic easiest possible j ner. The pastor hesitated. This was not what he lookod for ;i! all. "Of conrse - oí course," said he. " Bttt höw dlbes i1 happen, Sarah, that you are ai home again so soon?" 1 "Do you mean at WestbrookP" " Where else should I mean?" retorted Mr. Caryl, crustily - for he ih&i ir' n1 once :li!iiiihi . authority lic was ] ■'. '' m I youi" stay where you were?" Sarali eoloixd ap to tho roots of the hair. He couW perceive that, even in the uncertiün riso and fail of the iirelifrht-.. "X nid not like tho position," said sho, ia a low voice. "Hut you ougd to likc it," said Mr. Carj I. " You are not aware of all the circnmstances," pleaded Sarah. "I am quite aware," said Mr. Caryi, severely, "that vanityis the root of 'all your evils!" "Vanüy?" The crimson was deepcr than over now, on brow and temple, as she half op o. "Yes, vanity!" Impressively reitcrated i rgyman. "Be süent il' you p : i. and hearme out. You have i certain amount of personal attractions which appear to turned your head. Remember that beauty is but skin deep. Cali to mind frequently the ancient adage, that 'Handsome is that handsome does.' Aiter all, ym ther Mary, Queen of Scots, nor Cleopatra. Iso'v, také my advice, Sarah - " "But I have not asked for it," she cried out, in choked accents. "No muiter whether you have or not," said Mr. Caryl, ealMy. "It is roy mission to volunteer good counsel, and yours to reeeive it. I repeat, Sarah, take my advice, and go baek to your last place. Apologize lmnibly for your shortoomings; teil the woman of the house that you will strive to amend your conduct tor the future, and deaTor to deserve her apprpval. Put away your silly ribbon liows and broochos" - with a stern glance at a pooi' little agate breastpin that güs;tened at the girl's hroat - " and leave tho vain accessories of dress to your bcttors, always remembering that' the i ornament of a meek and quiet spirit- -" But just at this point tho young clergyman's oration was abruptly checked lv tho entrance of Mrs. Prune herself, led and bonneted, and breathing iiLüt. fi-om tho llalli slu ]i;nl made In one hana sbe fieltt a pfodigious btf dr igged' forward the untidy damsel of üiu shawl and curl-papers. ■'Here she is, Slr. Caryl - hore she is!" bawled Mrs. Prune, who did not p3ssess that most excellent thing in vvoman, "alowand gentle voice." A lazy, good-for-nothing, stuck-up, rain minx, as needn't snppose I'm going to do her no longer! You needn't haiifi back, Sarah; it ain't no good! Here she is Mr. Caryl - here's Sarah!" Tl ie young pastor stared in amazement. "Is Aai Sarah?" said he. " Th at' s Sarah," panted Mrs. Pruno. "And who's this?" he demanded, turning to tlie slim, dark-eyed girl with tho blue ribbon and the agate brooeh. "That's my niece, Sally Melding, as has been governess to a family up iu Maine, for threo years," snid Mrs. Prano. "And slie's down boro on a visit now - came this very afternoon. Hain'fcyou been introduced yet? Mr. 1, ray niece, Sallie! Sallie, tuis ere's - " But beforc snc conlrt finish the worda of her formal introduction, the clergynan had mado a nervous grasp at lus Uit. " I--I have been the vietim of a migratanding,"8tammered he. " This young person told me that she was Sarah." " So she is," said Mrs. Pruno. "But she lin't the Sarah as is to bo spoken to." " I be?; a thousand pardons," safrJ Mr. Caryl, feeling the cld sweat drip irom every ■ Miss fc'ielding burst out laughitiff. "They are oheerfully granted," said shp. "Xo, don't go irvav, Mr. Caryl." holding out her hand as h'e ras turning to depart. "1 have learned that vu possess, at least, the virtue of franknes?. Shall v,-e not be friends?" A:id Mr. Caryl looked into the darkblue eyes and said: "Yes." lie forgot all about the hot cornbrcad and strawberry-jaln at home. and stayed to tea at Mrs. Pruno'?, whili right Sarah escaped the atended leoture, and the wrong Sarah presided, in a most graceful and vinning manner, behind the cups and saacers; and old Mrs. Caryl la.ughed heartily when her son explained the enripus rencontre to her lator in the evening. "But why did yhc leave her situation - the wrong Sarah, í mean?" said she. "Because the youngheirof made love to her," said Mr. Caryl; " and I dorft wonder at it. She's the prettiest littlo creature I ever saw in my Ufe." "Porhaps, then," said Mrs. Caryl, doubtfully, "yoiii' advice vvasn't so very much amiss, af ter all." "Certainly it was," said Mr. Caryl, with spirit. The old lady looked sharply at him. "Charles," said she, "I do believe you're struok witli hor." "Noasense," said Mr. Caryl, turning red. But just three months later, when the moon was at the ïull. .nnd sleighing parties en regio. Mr. Caryl broti Fielding home f rom singing-school in }iis new cutter, and told her a secret on the way - that ho loved her. And so the wrong Sarah was tho riht Sarah, after all. - Saturday Niglit. - The ètartling news comes trom Farmington, in Kentuoky, that ii; ns wlü.i participated in a meeting of the Old " iiiion at place had been isly poisi by communion bread bei n ally mixed v.itii rat poison. Doctors wcre summoned and the church was at oiu-e converted into an hospital. The si ices were afterward continued u neighboring trees, and a1 l pcoplc were doi None, it was thought, would die.


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Ann Arbor Argus