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A SUMMER'S DAY.
Black hees on the clover-heads drowsily
clinging,
Where tall, feathered grasses and butter¬
cups sway;
And all through the fields a white sprinkle
of daisies
Open-eyed at the setting of day.
Oh, the heaps of sweet rosea, sweet citvna
mon roses,
In great crimson thickets that cover the
wall!
And flocks of bright butterflies giddy to see
them,
And a sunny blue sky over all.
T-railing boughs of the elms drooping over
the hedges, V.
Where spiders their glimmering laces-'
have spun;
And breezes that bend the light tops of th
willows
And down through the meadow grass
run.
Silver-brown little birds sitting close in the
branches,
And yeliow wings flashing from hillock to
tree,
And wide-wheeling swallows that dip to the
marshes,
And bobolinks crazy with glee.
So crazy, they soar through the glow of the
sunset
And warble their merriest notes as they
fly,
Nor heed how the moths hover low in the
hollows,
And the dew gathers soft ia the sky.
Then a round beaming moon o’er the blos¬
somed hill coming.
Making paler the fields and the shadows
more deep.
And through the wide meadows a mur¬
murous bumming
Of Insects too happy to sleep.
Enchanted I sit on the bank by the willow
And trill the last snatch of a rollicking
tune;
And since all this loveliness cannot be
Heaven,
I know in my heart it is June.
—Mrs. A. G.Woolson, in Boston Transcript.
LOVE AND LUCK.
BY HELEN FORREST GRAVES.
“Under a spreading chestnut tree,
The village smithy stands—”
BETTY little
Elma .Elwood
m tm the was to herself words whispering as softly she
tjA p dow-sill, leane O — and both gazed el
I M "^4 mfS: ^ out across the glow
W, ing landscape.
Pis*" * i
“ Are you ready
for breakfast, Miss
W Elwood 1” primly demanded Airs,
w Perkins, the governess, as she
manciured her nails at the marble wash¬
basin.
“Yes,” complacently observed the ar
tist, “I think it is rather good."
.‘‘And the little dog sitting by the
Qi O or—it just exactly as aatural'as 1 ' '
cr Q added.! \ y > f ‘
Ella frowned. I \ t t i • ,
> “the little dog, as you call it,” said
she, “is the stump of the old tree.
Don’t • stand quite so close, please! I
can’t move my elbow.” .> ' * 1
Plilzell colored. He took up hi3 pail
and moved on. *
“I’m always saying the wrong thing,”
said he, in a sort of desperation.
Elma hoped she had not offended the
young mah. She rather liked ; him, ( al¬
it was awarkward for him to mis
ti^e anC-she the butternut stump for a little dog,
made up her mind to say sorne
thiog bahk pleasant to * him when he came
to the spring.
'' But he did not come back at all.' Evi
dently there was some other way between
the smithy and the little brpok.
At six o’clock, according to compact,
Mrs. Perkins, came for'the artist to es¬
cort her home. • • i
“And you’ve been dll this time doing
that little bit of work?” said Mrs. Per¬
kins. 'V
“Oh, I haven’t worked all the time,
Perky!” impatiently .spoke the girl.
‘ ‘Besides, one. cardt- hurry ■ art. ”
As they strolled slowly down the shady
road, Elma suddenly stooped and picked
up something. >;
“What’s that?” said the governes3,
lifting her crisp flounces out of the dust.
“A horseshoe-—an old, common horse¬
shoe. Put that down at once, 'MsS El¬
wood!” ■
“Wait for a moment, Perky!” cried
the girl, rushing away through the
bushes. “I’ve forgotten something.”
Half a minute later, she was down in
front of the closed smithy, balancing
herself on the identical butternut-wood
stump.
With a round stone for a hammer, she
drove in a rusty nail, and hung the thin
old horseshoe over the door.
“There’s good luck for Louis Dal
zell!” she cried, as she sprang lightly
backward.
“Take care!” said a voice behind her.
And then she became aware that Dal
zcll himself had emerged from the bow¬
ery shadow of the trees, and that she
had nearly knocked him over.
“Is that for me?” he said. “Oh
thainks 1”
Aud placing both hands lightly on her
shoulders, he kissed her, driven by some
sudden impulse for which he himself
could scarcely account.
Elma Elwood turned scarlet all over;
she rubbed her cheeks to efface all ves¬
tige of the offense, aud stamped her kid
shod foot in the sand with futile passion.
“How dare you?” she cried. “How
dale you?”
And like a flying nymph she vanished
into the dense shadow of the woods,
leaving the young man transfixed with
surprise.
“Why does she make such a fuss?” he
asked himself. ‘She’s only a child—
but good fatel what a beautiful child!”
angles, and a low easy-chair on a tiger
skin by the door, was drifted over with
newspapers. Presently Mrs. Perkins
came, smiling back. said
“He ykiU be vpth ns presently,”
she. “Really, my dear, he’s quite a
young man—not at all the bald-pated
railroad king I expected to see. And be
is most kind and gracious, and has
promised to recommend us everywhere.”
The door opened t and the iron man en
tered, followed by two or three magnif
icent hounds, Eima sprang up with a
cry. * * exclaimed, .“ItVLouis t ,
t t Why,” she " —
It’s Louis Dalzell !” ■ , ,
He held out both his hands.
“I can’t have changed so very much
then?” said he.”
At dhe same instant Elma’s eyes caught
sight; of a strange object above the
, horse¬
arched ’doorway—a gold-plated here
shoe, worn thin at the ends, with
and there a bent nail in its curve. Louis’s
glance followed her own.
“Yes,” said he. “it’s the very horse¬
shoe. It. has done its task, Miss El
wood^R , has brought me luck! Miss
Perkins,” he added, turning to the elder
lady, “I shall expect you and your
young friend to remain here as my
guests for the present. I have a large
house, and I am a lonely man.”
“Oh!” said Miss Perkins, her eyes be¬
coming larger than the lenses of her
spectacle glasses. “You’re not married
then ? ” *
“No,” said Mr. Dalzell. “Before I
left the East, I fell in love. I shall
never marry until I can marry that first
love of mine.”
He looked Elma full in the eyes as he
spoke. She colored. Her long lashes
drooped. month Mrs. Per¬
At the end of the
kins aroused herself to the exigencies of
the case.
“All this is like life in fairyland, dear
Elma,” said she. “But it isn’t business.
I see by the papers that several music
teachers have recently arrived from the
East, and if we are to get to work—”
“But,” said Elma, patting the dear
old wrinkled hand, “I don’t really see
any particular reason for our getting to
work.”
“Eh?” gasped Mrs. Perkins.
“You see,” went on Elma, “Mr. Dal¬
zell is engaged to that first love of his.
He has given me back the horseshoe,and
as I couldn’t think of breaking the cur¬
rent of luck by taking it from the house,
of course I must stay here.”
“Oh!” said Mrs. Perking. “Thenit’s
true? He’s the same young man that
kissed you when you were hanging good
luck up over the smithy door—the ‘un¬
der the spreading chestnut tree young
man’?”
Elma nodded assent.
“Oh!” again uttered Mrs. Perkins.
“But you said you never, never would
forgive him.”
“Don’t you know, Perky,” coaxed
Elma, the audacious, “what the Bible
says about forgiving people? Anyhow,
it’s all settled, and we are to be married
very soon, and you are to live here with
us always. Does that plan suit you?”
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