AU§, 7 
o 3 ur j&org-S^llqr. 
AN INNKEEPER’S DAUQHTER. 
The inn where iny heroine M as born and lived 
was the only one in the neighborhood of the 
town of Cardale. It stood about half a mile out 
of the town a id was a famous place of resort 
for the young people who wished to have rid- 
i nfr , shooting or fishing parties. Looking from 
the windows of the house you could fane}’, so 
wild and picturesque was thesoenery all round, 
THE HAPPY VILLAGE, against one of the pillars, began to sing. A 
- prima donna mtgbt have envied that young 
As often 1 pass the roadside, girl’s voice—it was clear and most melodious, 
When wearily falls the day, and e y er y note she warbled was true and full. 
I turn to look from the liill-top she ^ a very pretty picture , this little Min- 
At the mountains far away. nle , as ?Ue Btood there singing to her old father. 
The red sun through the forests The last rays of the settihg sun fell upon her 
Throws hither his darting beams, rich chestnut hair, her round, white shoulders 
And far lu the quiet valley and arms, and threw out the colors of her pretty, 
The happy village gleams. gay dres ^ which was short enough to give a 
There the lamp la lit In the cottage glimpse of a most dainty little foot cased In a 
As the husbandman’s labors cease, neat black boot. The long, green branches and 
And 1 think that all things are gathored bright flowers of a red rose twined round the 
And folded in twilight peace. pillar against whloh she leaned, and the whole 
effect was very charming. Tbero wore two peo- 
But the sound (it merry voices pj 0 w h 0 thought so ; one wits Joe hi mseif, as he 
1,1 theviuagestreet, lazily watched and listened; the other was a 
While pleased the grandame watches , . , . . 
The play of the llttlo feet. horseman, who had stopped his steed near the 
inn and, unperceived by the group on the porch. 
And at night to many a fireside was waiting a pause in the song to apeak to the 
The rosy children come; landlord. The rider was a young, handsome 
To tales of the bright-eyed fairies man, and evidently had an eye for beauty. 
They listen aud are dumb. 
“Now, Minnie, sing one of the songs you 
There sseros a Joy forever learned at the school.’’ said her father. 
To labor und to learn, “ Whew I” said the rider In an undertone, as 
F^r '°ve, wit > mi oy« ° magic, Minnie sang the first words of the cavatina, front 
is patient to discern. » La Somnambuia.” “ now for screeching.” 
And the father blesses the mother. No 8Uoh thSnK . 8|r Crttlc> Aa the lfist note 
And the children bless the sire d i ed young man Struck his 
And the cheer imd ,|oy of the. hearthstone . . * , .... it, 
IS a light from an altar «: e. har ’ dti together, cryingBravo i beg your 
pardon, be added, seeing the surprise his ap- 
0 . flowers of rarest beauty pearance occasioned. “ l have been here some 
In that green valley grow! time, but I could not make up my mind to in- 
terrupt „uch heavenly sounds.” 
Why shouldat thou care to know ? 
The landlord was up, bowing, and Minnie had 
Save that thy brow is troubled, vanished before this speech was half finished. 
Aud dim is thy helpmate’s eye. Giving h< horsfJ t tho hoatlor , and ordering a 
And graves are green in the valley, . ; .. , .. A . 
And stars are bright in the sky. prlvate , room, pen. Ink and paper, the traveler 
[Kane O’Donncl, in Scribner's. entered the Inn. After supper was served and 
eaten, be drew hla chair up to the table and 
-—-—- wrote the following letter; 
LV 1 . ..., Or' -It - M “ Heap Grouge Here I am at the ‘ Fox and 
fl^nr ?) l Hounds,’ as I told you 1 should be when 1 left 
v,y VV * ♦ yon. 1 arrived here about an hour ago, and dis¬ 
turbed at her song the most, lovely—but never 
■ mind now. Come down a» Boon as you can. 
The party from the squire's will be here to- 
AN TNNFFF.PER’S DAUCrilTER. morrow* *na then I shall present Lonl Adair’s 
H.1N llNlMIVJjJji Xjlt o UiiuvjiAXAiAV. reRMta for hla absence, and Introduce to their 
- notice. Yours, trujy, 
The inn where inyhoroiue was born and lived ,, _ HERUEftT GUARr. 
was the only one in the neighborhood of the J ° iIon ’ Geo> Savage. 
town of Cardale. It stood about half a mile out The next morning, quite early, the fishing 
of tho town aid was a famous place of resort party came down to the “Fox and Hounds." 
for t he young people who wished to have rid- Mr. Grout presented his letters of introduction 
ing, shooting or fishing parties. Looking from to the squire, and was politely requested to join 
the windows of the house you could fancy, so the party. 
wild and picturesque was thesoenery all round, “It must be nice to be rich and powerful," 
that you were miles away from any house; but thought Minnie, as she saw the deference with 
if you left the building and ____ 
climbed the hill directly east, of 
it, you could seo the town of Car- 
dale lying below you. 
Joseph Langdon, or as he was 
generally called, “ Old Joe Lang¬ 
don," had owned the inn since 
the death of ids father, • ho was 
the former landlord. Hera he 
had broughtbls wife home; here 
his only child, Minnie, wiis born ; 
hero ids wife had died and here 
he hoped himself to d.e. 
Just at the time my story opens 
there was not a happier man 
alive than Joe. His inn was in a 
flourishing condition with a now 
sign swinging from the door 
and the old mime, “ Fox and 
Hounds,’’ blazoned on it in let¬ 
ters an iucb long. His pretty 
daughter had completed tho ed¬ 
ucation he had given her In a 
boarding-school in Cardale and 
had returned homo to pet her 
old father to hta heart's content, 
and Joe, to complete his state of 
felicity, had just received notice 
that a party of young ladles and 
gentlemen from Oldfltld Hall 
were coming down next day to 
spend the day in riding and fish¬ 
ing and would stop at his house 
for both luncheon and dinner. 
“Now. Minnie, lass," said her 
father, “ are you sure all la in 
order for the Ashing party t 
“Yes, father," she replied. 
“You see, Minnie,this Is a line 
company. There is Squire Old¬ 
field’? son, Mr. Harry and his sis¬ 
ter, Miss Kate, and there aie 
more; and, to be sure, there is a 
lord among them, Lord Herbert 
Adatr, that they say is after Miss 
Kate.” 
“Well, father, all Is ready ; aud 
now coiue out under the porch 
and we can chat together. Who 
is Lord Adair?” 
“Why, he's a great lord. Min¬ 
nie, young and handsome and 
V6ryrich: and they say bis moth¬ 
er and Squire Oldfield’s lady were 
very intimate when they were 
young and they wanted Lord 
Herbert to marry Miss Kate. The 
young folks haven’t seen one an¬ 
other vet, hut his*lordship is to 
come down hr re to-morrow to 
meet them ; and as they are both 
young and handsome, why of 
course they will fall in love the 
first thing. Now, Minnie, sing to 
me while I smoke." 
Minnie stood up lif the - porch 
°1 the little inn and t leaning 
which Mr. Grant assisted Kate Oldfield from 
her saddle to the ground and marked the low 
bow with whloh he gave her his arm. “ Ho 
called me Minnie this morning, just aa if I were 
a servant,” was her next thought. “ How hand¬ 
some ho is, aud what a pleasant voice ho bad ! 
Minnie is a pretty name, as ho says it." 
“Minnie! Minnie! Where are you?" 
“ Coming, father 1” 
And the young girl hastened! down stairs to 
assist her father In waiti upon his guests. As 
sho was passing along she met Miss Oldfield, 
who had torn her habit, and was on her way up 
stairs to repair her mischief. 
“Here, my girl,” she said, rather haughtily, 
as Minnie passed her, “come with me and 
mend this rent.” 
Minnie followed the handsome brunette, who 
was evidently in a bad humor. She was still 
seated on tho low stool beside her, at work 
upon the habit, wheu Harry Oldfield, Miss 
Kate’s brother, joined them. 
“ Como, Kate, they are all waiting for you.” 
“ Let them wait,” returned Kato. 
“I tell you what it is, Kate,” said tho young 
man, “ I would not let them see how cross I 
was about Lord Adair's absence, if I were you. 
He has sent a very handsome substitute, and 
if his excuse Is true, why I am sure it is a good 
one.” 
“Important business! Fudge! As if bis 
agent could not transact his business. He will 
meet a cold reception when he does come.” 
“Caution, Kate. You may lose him alto¬ 
gether. Do lie agreeable to hta substitute, so 
that lie may carry hack a favorable report.’’ 
“ If he comes here us il spy, he had better re¬ 
turn," said Kate. “Doubtless he will be well 
paid for his news.” 
Why did Minnie's cheek flush and her fingers 
tremble ? Surely the girl's sneering, cold tone 
was nothing to her. 
The party started off on horseback in fine 
spirits. In about two hours they returned slow¬ 
ly and sadly as a funeral train. Minnie hasten¬ 
ed to the door. Upon a rude Utter, carried by 
four of the party, lay, apparently dead, the 
traveler who had tho night before come to the 
Inn. 
“ How did it happen ?” she asked. 
“Lent his own 'orse to another man,” said 
the hostler. “ and the borrowed one struck tho 
upper bar of the first gate, and throw him over. 
The 'orse was killed, Miss.” 
They carried him to the best room, sent for a 
surgeon, and Minnie lingered near the door 
while young Oldfield and another of the party 
tried to restore him to life. She hastened for 
THEl UE3A.K AND THE BICYYi.S.-[See Page 
any restorative they demanded, and at last 
when the surgeon arrived, crept into tho room 
to hear Ills verdict. 
When George Savage arrived, the next day, 
his friend was In a raying delirium. For days 
ho hovered between life and death, and in all 
that, time not emo of the gay fishing party again 
came to the poor artist. Minnie was his nurse. 
Her old aunt, who was very much interested in 
tho poor young man, directed her and Cleorge 
Savage in l heir treatment of the Invalid ; and 
when the young man was again out, of danger 
and his friend had returned to London Min¬ 
nie and her aunt were left to take care of the 
stranger. 
Young Grant, in his convalescence, made a 
study of Minnie. He was charmed with her 
gentle, touder care of him, and amazed at tho 
Hue, cultivated mind thesimplo country maiden 
possessed. When his friend Savage sent him 
any new hooks from town, and Minnie read 
them aloud to him, ho was delighted with tho 
depth of Information her remarks displayed. 
In snort, Air, Herbert. Grant, was In love. 
One morning Minnie was reading to him in 
her rich, molodious voice from Miss Landon’s 
poems: 
“ It is a fearful thing 
To love us 1 love thee; to feel the world— 
Tho bright, tho beautiful, joy-giving world- 
A blank without iheo. Nevormore to mo 
Cau hope, Joy. fear, weardlBfereut seeming Now 
t have no hope that does net dream for thee • 
I have no Joy that Is not shared by thee; 
I have no fear that does not dread for thee • 
Alt that I etiuo took pleasure In my | Ut „ 
Is only sweet when tt repeats t.hv name • 
My (lowers. 1 only gather them for the u - 
Tho book drops listless down. I oaunot’rcad 
Unless It l* to tbee.” 
“ Pshaw!’’ said Minnie, trying to laugh. “ Has 
not your friend sent you something more Inter 
esting than this?” ter 
” Minnie,” said Herbert, looking full into her 
large, dark eyes, “ I think It Is beautiful •- 
What a brilliant color the in keeper’s daugh¬ 
ter did possess! h 
H ;~ nw ow, ‘ 1 w «id 
A week or two later there was a very pathetic 
parting in the little room which Mr. Grant ( >e- 
”Good-night and good-by, Minnie ” tr 
row. I will writ., a tw „, 
turn to claim you, Minnie.” 
Tho next morning Minnie was up very ea, lv 
Had she not to get her father's breakfast be' 
fore be started to market ? fl„ t affor , lyr J®” 
- I; 1 !'!,'*? Why dld ah « '”>t return 
t0 * h « '"’"sc, instead of standing 
g===^-=?s *'*<» talking to the hostler, as 
--- ■ - - 10 f0< ! * n ' 1 stored Mr. Grant's 
' rt ! V!ls a bea uttfuJ horse, 
t-~ = and ^‘"'do evidently thought 
= ?° ’ f I ic wh >' rtl 'l aim stand strok 
- - ~ ' '"«■ k'* 'nunc, and patting it so 
5^ T -—I fonUhr? Mr. Grant was looking 
J out Of his Window, and there 
wa.s a pleased smile on his face 
'f' e, i noticed her. ij e came 
dnw’n a few moments afterwards 
booted and spurred, and, though 
MIHMe and rather weak, in high 
Minnie had a secret for her 
Sr "“*•*•* a. 
“ ' Veil ’ ,aS8 > if lie’ll prove lie’s 
areqieetablcmnn.andcansuV- 
i r m'" 1 ' 7 hy he 8 " •‘beral kind 
' 1 1 think, and I suppose 
r must lot you go.” U S ° 
Ami Minnie, seated beside him, 
mstled close into his arms and 
'ung her sweetest songs. 
In an elegant apartment in 
London young Herbert Grant 1 ■ 
-Jngrapidiynpanddowi.an 
’dderly lady, seated on a 8 ofn it 
talking to him. H ° fa ’ ,a 
" I Wish* UeVh * n '” -laying, 
I Wish you would listen to re -, 
<on. What will Kate say ?” 
“ Kate ! a cold - hearted gj r j 
wiio saw mo brought, dying, ap- 
parenUy to u house within half 
i mile of her, and never sent to 
know If f survived ,„y f.u. i 
was a follow creature, at least!” 
Gut, my dear-—” 
Mother," said Herbert, tuk- 
"* h0r ^“KLand seating him- 
, besid e Ler, “ you do not 
know Minnie. She is no coarse 
uneducated rustic. Any lady’ 
may be proud °f her beauty and 
aients-and, mother, 1 firmly 
h ai- m* 5 1* 11 had not been for 
Sled^ ^ Imrsln ^’ r shoukl bave 
. i i ou <Dd not send for me,” 
\ 3a id his mother. 
L 1 conscious 
y did not know where to 
«end,’’ he replied. “George 
came down by « former invita¬ 
tion, and I feared to tell you, !est, 
ln spUe ot your feehlo licalth, 
- \ you would Insist upon coming to 
n ' 0 ; Mother, you will consent to 
' ca, ‘ Minnie daughter?" 
_^ U , took more than one such 
oaxin « to win her; but Herhort 
- ii> was her ail in aU, and finall y she 
consented. 
