The Storyteller.

Taranaki Daily News, Volume XLVII, Issue 7934, 25 September 1905, Page 4

The Storyteller.

I A CROVTN OF GOLD. p. —— F flitabcl stood in the kitchen door, : on an April day, wailing for her t husband to come in from the nam. P where he had been unharnessing after ?■ a trip to town. It was noon, and % her dinner-table, in exquisite order, '- stood waiting for them. A beef 5 soup of the old-fashioned kind, with onions and dumplings, bubbled on the 1 stove. Mirabel knew he would be * content. Pleasure was too strong a .word for anything Harrison might ';'« feel. He had no commendation to i express more than a sober certainty i* that she would do things as perfect- - ly as tbey could be done. He thought *■ exceedingly well of Miraliel, but there, was no throb of surprise over any f," miracle she could offer him from |r'j time to time. She stood there on i/, the iloorsiil swaying from one foot | to the other in a childish way she ', bad, her face half smiling in a qui- £• Tenng response to the bright spring t. weather. It made her feel quite g; strangely, as if she were a little *j SU'i n ith no tasks, only to laugh % awl sit in the sun. Yet she liked j, htr work. Only there was a part of \ her that seemed to be always (lying \' abroad over the boughs, or singing £ irresponsible things like the bluelmds I - »ow in their nesting fervor. From V the sky siie looked down at her blmkf calico and wondered if it were be- ; coming, and then sighed impatiently f because there was no way to lind ?' out. Mirabel looked quite uniike any f. of the girls in the neighbourhood, or : any girl she had ever seen. SU- na<i

>■ a. s!;ni so delicate that Hie sun seem- | |" est to Aorcli ii, awl a fine drooping 5 profile liut what pu/.:'.hd her ninsi &' was. llat tin re were freckles on her | l iwso, .-. I that she hail thick, heavy L'nair, bright bronze n,l. and c-ui E'pfcsionatel), and that to her husj*i, band i.i/r.c of things s,euird to *.'. Ba'.kr Sometimes when she wen!' ft, into .->( room all hy herself, and stood I*- in front of the glass in Wild selfit wiut.uv, it sonmil to her that she | . had the prettiest link ami chin * C girl e».r had, and her teiir was so ! ' glorious to her thai she caught i lir I .. fc-'aih Vfur such a meet ins with ■ t - ki'e'f she would look at Harrison p. tttien he came in from the barn ami, » flush.iu all over her delicate face j t »i>u.l 'r if he would tell her how prel- j ? ly she »as Hut he never told her. I tr Not oi.ee in all their courting aa.s • t- bud he mentioned how she lookr I to i fc bim, and they hail 'k%w their love"»making so early that there had hern terilly lime fir other men to speak fe. j>l it Sometimes wo:d r ,l if gt,«' loo» her looks for granted. Some- £• tomc-i, with a sorry thought she v woademl if lit thought she was realI Kv I) too hideous, with her rnl hair, 10l ar.)thi„g but the horuilv uses of lilc, *nd ii it was his kindness that mine I tarn keep Ins silence towards her. He j Wi.. iMi.in.g now from the barn, a j . s'.iaigi.t tail fellow with gou.l mown e>is an I a square chin. Mirabel

sped in to the stove, and had the steaming dinner up before his feel touched the silt. Harrison had an armful of packages. He laid them down on the kitchen lounge, swept ofli his bat Willi one motion of his hand, and with the other began to pump into the basin in the sink. lie soustd his bcElaml lace, and came out dripping. After a vcrub at the towel ,!>y the door, he turned to Mirabel, waiting beside her plate. "Well," he said, -you all right '.'" That was diep afiectioti. Mirabel knew it and her eyes glowed. Hut she answcri.il soberly, because that contented him, and the) sat down to eat. When Hanison had ilulled the edge oi appetite lie sat lack and sighed with satisfaction. "Well,'' he said, "who do you suppose 1 see in tbe post olhce waitin' tor the mail '.'" "I don't know." "Lucy Miles." In spite of her the colour Hew up into Mirabel's tell-tale skin. She felt it there and chid,,l herself for il. "How's she look '.'" she ask<.d, with I a careful interest. "Young as ever. Pretty, too." "How's she look, Harrison ?" said Mirabel. "You know I never really sec her." "No, she was visitin' here when 1 used to see so much of hei. That's what she's doin' now. Goin' to-nior-ror, she said." "How's she look ?" Mirabel repeated the question clearly, and turned candid eys on him. She had no reason for being jealous over Lucy Miles. If Harrison had wanted her, she had many a time assured herself, he might have lad her. Hut Harrison always caller her pretty, and hearing that her heart ached "and her lips grew mutinous. Harrison was specufating over her question. "Yes," he said, a! length, "I guess Lucy's a mighty pretty girl, fur as looks go. She's got black eyes an' - black hair an' a good skin, an' she's stiaight as an arrer. Yes, I guess there's no doubt hut what Lucy's pretty, (iol any pie ?" Theic was a custard pip, warm from the oveii.-.and Harrison addressed himsell to it with a fervour feminine beauty bad not challenge,: ,n him. Mirabel ate a little of the iirown skin on the top of her piece. "You sick .'" inquired Harrison, seeing it uiihtiishe.l on her plate. "No," she answered. "I ain't verv hungry."

"tine it m me, thru." He ate 'both pieces and rose Willi another jsisl'- liu; he came back frmu the jdoor. oil his way out again, hearing ! how .Mirabel's step lagged, beating! 'lack an.l lorlh irom table to painry. j "1 guess you ain't very rugged to|day," said Hairison. He piii a big hand on his shoulder and Miialiel brightukd. "I'd lay down a spell." Her spirits came yi.uk in a dencing tifjti). Her nee d.Miphd dilighlii:!ly. She bent her head .and dropped a kiss on liis sleeve. "No." sie said, -n.,. I ain't tired. 1 ami e'.er ti1..1, this wtatliei. OuIv 1 got tlinkin'." "Well." 51..1 li.ims.,ll, kindly, and went < n to the b.iin. The d.us when Mirabel go! thinking were not veiy iiii|in::l ; but h I was conscious ail the time tluit. sh • I did like Harrison to like her looks. At least, she long, d to know whither he diil or nut. It was partly hunger and partly curiosity, but bctwren them they consumed her. The nest day the fever was still upon hi r. end wli.n, in the morning, he lohl her he was going (o theiiier pasture nncir..', to l:e gone all day, she was glad. She could wash her Itng mi hair, and then coil it up decentiy, and l.y tin- lime 1 lie came home he ready 'to ii r„ t it and shake herself down into a new calmness. It »,is a sw.cl Apri; morning with the warmth of May. Harrison looked at In r almost regretfully as she ran out to give him his little packet of lunch, where he sat :n the dingle cart, ruelv to go. "I 'mo:,l wish \ou was couii'ii' teo." l.e mused. ■'JicM.c 'twould l.e

kind of damp, though, settiii' round outdoors all day long." "I've got lots to do," said Mirabel, gaily, "G<y.xl-by. I'll have something' for supper 'long about six." When the blue cart was bobbing away down under the old elm, she ceased to watch it, and ran indoors, because she meant to be so busy, and the outside sweetness templed her. She hurried through her tasks, with a lick and a promise, as old Aunt Mag used to say, and then got out the little keeler, and into a bath of warm suds let down her long thick hair. It was a hard task for one pair of hands, but in half an hour she was sitting out in the yard in the full .flood of sunlight with the hair falling over her shoulders, drying, and curling as it dried. She rubbed it, and played with it, and tossed it up to let the air blow through it, and when the bronze-red kinks, like growing things all alive, were clustering over her head. She still sa*t there, holding tip the ends of it to let the sunlight in again. "Good morning," said a voice. Mirabel gave a little cry. She dropped her hair, and parted the golden fleece to look at him. She knew him at once. He was the man who boarded two miles awav on the Sudleigh-road, and puf up "his umbrella in llv midst of the meadows, and sat there painting all day long. He was a short, stout man, with a greyish, pointed beard, and eyes set very far under straggly brows. He carried the umbrella closed, and other things she did not understand. "Good morning," he said again. "I jWanl to paint your hair." .Mirabel gathered it about her, this time like a mantle. She said nothing. He was opening a camp-stool a».-.| without looking at her, kept on talking. "I guess you can give me a silling, caul you .' Give me all the nine vou've got today. I'm going iway to-morrow. Wish I couM stay !' nger, /nit I sail Sjiturdav. 1 did not know I here was such hair witlin a hundred miles." She half rose from her seat, lie seeiiidl kind, ,in.l also irrestible, but j-he fell like flying into the house, .in,l doing her hair up light and lirm ind not looking at it all day long. "Come ! conie !" he said. '"I can't waste a minute. Infernal fools not to tell me there was hair like that' in " He slopped short his grumbling and smiled al her. At once Mirabel sat down In (he 'hair and limrdlv returned tlif uni;,"Why," he said, "you musii'l be afraid. You wouldn't l.v afraid tohave your photograph taken, now would you ''" "No," said Mirabel, almost inaudible.

"Well then ! I only waul lontak, a picture of your hair. Sit still like a gocil girl, and let me do it '' He was seated before her. She could i.ot flee. Hut her face quivered a lit tic She felt as if she were going I') cry. He had been dahvdng colors on his palette, anil how he 'eaind pack and looked at her his head on one side. She fell her chin trembling. "Thais right," he said. 'Tart il j little more away from your race I hat s fi( ,,„|. i v , ;lnl V(Jl| t() M ,., m |(| '*' looking through ii. There, that's exactly right." Then he began to work. Mirabel's chin shook more ne,| ; ""ic, Ult either he did not see it '>■' he did not seem to mind. Suddenly he beg.ui talking. It me V, have been to himself, though "it sound,d partly as if he were reading ironi a hook. "Once upon a time there was a little girl, and she had ad h.vr ttln !" he glancid at tier with a queer, surprise in his lifted eyebrows, "it was just like yours. Isii'i that' odd ' Well, she went to school with other girls, and none of them had red hair. None of the hovs had except one, nnd his was a 'real carroty red, and be was all freckles. On his bands, too." "I.csiler I'ritcha.ril !" ealli.il Mirabel. "HowNI you 'know.?'' Her ve|ee 'lou!| nSt<l ' l; ' r ' '' WBS S " S,lal ' P ailil bush* fyi ' S tW '" kl,M ''" lh,,il ' amrr"i-'"' "',, ff . irl kl ' llto " Slowing and Kiting till she couldn't grow a nv Iwtßcr. because she was grown up. And her hair kept growing and grow-aw-,v Sl '°^" 1 "' ,00 ' a '" lil could lit. Ii K 7 Umm ' if if wa '"«i '"" To,,,!''" ! , K " , . lh( ' "fihl length il Ihlur " " WaS alwa >' s ml (To lie Continued),