OGT. 23 
MOORE’S RURAL NEW-YORKER. 
273 
TIME OF NEED. 
IN olden days there lived a man. 
United to a simple wife, 
Who worked from early dawn till eve, 
And saved Ills earnings all his life. 
He kept his preclons hoard of wealth 
Safe In a bag, tied rouud and round. 
Until the store of coins had grown 
In weight to balance many a pound. 
And when his easy wife would ask 
" What good in so much care and greed ?” 
One answer always w»9 returned : 
" I’m keeping this for time of need.” 
And so through patient, toilsome years 
This was the burden of his song : 
“ Let others spend : but I will save. 
Till time of need shall come along.” 
The story traveled far and wide: 
And so it chanced a stranger came, 
Who entered at the humble door. 
Accosting thus the busy dame: 
*' Dear madam, I am Time of Need I 
I’ve journeyed over land and sea 
To claim the money your good man 
Has kept lu faithful charge for me.” 
“ Oh, deary me 1” the dame replied. 
“ My husband will be vexed, indeed. 
That he should be away from home, 
When you arrive. Sir Time of »Necd!” 
“ I cannot wait,” the stranger cried, 
“ For business calls me to depart." 
"Then I will got your own,” she said, 
And give It yon with all my heart.” 
She dragged the hidden treasure forth, 
With eager haste and arduous pull: 
While he exclaimed : " I had not thought 
To find my bag so large and full; 
" And fear I cannot take It all. 
Since I came hither on uiy feet.” 
“ Oh, ride tho bob-tniled horse,” she said, 
" And take the whole, I do entreat!" 
“ A lucky thought I And I’ll return 
The horse when next l pass this way.” 
So saying, mounted and enrlohed, 
The gentle stranger redo away. 
The dame was left rejoioing much 
That her good man from care was freed, 
And now at last could rest from work, 
And think no more of Time of Need I 
®ur ^lorg-Sjsltyr. 
EXCHANGING- RINGS. 
A. STORY FOR YOUNG! LADIES 
Prudence Holmes sat alone In the wide, 
shady kitchen, busily engaged in picking over 
whortleberries. Without the golden Bunshlne 
of an August afternoon bathed the green fields 
and the dusty road that wound away to the vil¬ 
lage, and touched with richer color the nas¬ 
turtiums, sweet peas, geraniums, and zinnias 
In the tiny garden, and the heavy Virginia 
creeper that climbed and blossomed above the 
door. Prudence made n pretty picture as she 
sat on a low cricket, with a big calico apron 
spread over her blue sprigged muslin dress to 
defend It from the stains that had soiled her 
little brown hands. She was a petite, daintily- 
rounded maiden of eighteen, with great dark 
eyes and glossy curls shading a fair brow and 
oheeks that had a touch of wild rose bloom 
upon them. The kitchen, too; such a pretty 
picture, with its well-scoured floor arid dresser, 
its asparagus-topped clock, Its shining stove, 
with bunches of herbs bung behind, and the 
great bouquet of vivid cardinal flowers set oil 
the snowy table. 
The kitchen was perfectly still, save the buzz 
of the flies and the click of the clock; and out¬ 
side t he cricket and the locusts alone disturbed 
the silence. Prudence believed that every one 
In the house was asleep but herself and yawned 
somewhat wearily as she tossed over the ber¬ 
ries, finishing the yawn with a bit of a soliloquy 
uttered half aloud : 
" Ob, dear t this having summer boarders Isn’t 
very nice "l 
“ Miss Prudence," said a voice in the doorway, 
so suddenly that Prudence nearly upset her ber¬ 
ries In her surprise. 
**0h, Mr. Weotwoith, Is it you?" she said, 
bashfully, bending down to pick up a few ber¬ 
ries that had rolled from her apron. 
“ J’il pick ’em up!" exclal med the new comer 
—a tall and rather arlatocratio-looklng youth 
of twenty-one, with merry blue eyes, short au¬ 
burn hair curling closely under a straw bat- 
diving for the missing berries with ungraceful 
dexterity. “Yes.lt is I, of course. Have you 
forgotten your promise to go after lilies with 
me this afternoon?" 
"Oh, but I didn’t say this afternoon, you 
know; only some afternoon this week," re¬ 
sponded Prudence, demurely. 
“Well, we'll call It this afternoon, won’t 
we 1" was the persuasive rejoinder, as the straw 
hat was tossed on a chair. 
“ 1 can’t; I've got these berries to pick over.” 
'‘I’ll help you. Lend me half that apron and 
we’ll have them done In a trice." 
"But I shall have supper to get. Mother’s 
away and there are biscuits to make,” Insisted 
Prudence, turning her faoe away to hide a smile 
that would curve her Ups. 
“Never mind that,” responded Mr. Abbott 
Wentworth, bringing a chair to her side. "Tea’s 
at six, isn't It? and it’s only half-past two. 
We’ll be back by five, without fall, and have 
time to get half the lilies in the river;” and he 
began to assort a handful of berries with tnuoh 
earnestness. 
“ W-e-1-1,” assented Prudence.” after a pause 
for consideration and a glance at the olock, “ I 
chased gold ring he held out to her, and then 
looked back at the water with nn innocent 
“Ob, I don't, think it w mid fit.” 
“Try It,” suggested her companion, softly. 
Prudence shook her bead but finally agreed, 
blushlngly, that it would do no harm to try, 
and slipped the ring on her forefinger. 
“ It’s a perfect fit!’’ cried Mr. Wentworth, 
delightedly. “ Nothing could be better. Why. 
“ Thank you, Miss Prudence," and departed 
to carry the oars to the barn, it was well he 
did not look back, for Miss Prudonco tossed 
the lilies aside with a petulant gesture and had 
a fit of dying with her bead on tho kitchen 
table. 
When Mr. Wentworth returned from the barn 
half an hour inter he did see a picture that com¬ 
forted him a llttlo through the hop-wreatlied 
pantry window. It was Prudence with her 
sleeves pinned up, molding biscuits with des¬ 
perate haste, whllo tho tears fell thickly on her 
high calico apron. This picture so amazed Mr. 
Wentworth that he retreated hastily behind a 
lilac bush to observe it, and lingered so long 
that he was late at tea. 
This was a model supper. There was the great 
dish of berries with snowy cream beside, llauked 
by cheese and raspberry Jam. There were two 
mountainous plates of snowy biscuit, contrast¬ 
ing with tho gold sponge cake and the richer 
gold of the butter. Mr. Wentworth, who had 
supposed he should never have an appetite 
again, felt quite revived by tho sight of this 
table and the memory of the picture. The rest 
of tho hoarders seemed to share the sensation, 
for tho group of muslin was very hilarious, aud 
tlio eatables disappeared rapidly. Prudence 
presiding between the pots, seemed rather out 
of spirits, but Farmer Holmes atoned for tier 
silence by unusual Jollity. 
When the biscuits wore passed a second time 
to Mr. Wentworth lie saw that only one was 
left, and would have refused decorously, but 
Hie hospitable farmer pressed it upon him. 
“Don’t bo afraid of it. There’s plenty more 
In tho kitchen— ain't there. Prudence ?’’ 
Thus pressed, Mr. Wentworth accepted the 
biscuit,and Prudence disappeared to replenish 
the plate. Mr. Wentworth divided tho biscuit, 
then dropped itsuddonly with an exclamation 
that bi’ought every eye upon him. There, im 
bedded in the light, white bread,laid Prudence's 
ruby ring. 
Such a shout of laughter arose that brought 
Prudence back from the kitchen in haste, just 
In time to see Mr. Wentworth coolly remove 
the ring from tho biscuit, amidst the merry 
chorus, and drop it lu his v alstcoat pocket, to 
“ bo kept till called for,” bo said, with a signifi¬ 
cant glance at her scarlet fuoe. 
Poor Prudence! there was no peace for her 
after that. A nanny of Jokes quite overwhelm¬ 
ed her protestations and disclaim logs, and she 
was thankful to beat a retreat to the kitchen 
when the meal was over. But oven there she 
was pursued by a laughing trio of the ladies 
harassed with questlona and wonderment and 
merriment until the last dish was set away and 
she had seized her hat, wit h t he excuse t hat she 
must go to tlic village fur letters. Instead of 
going to the village, however, she stole along 
the hedge, climbed tho wall and ran to the fur¬ 
thest end of thfl orchard, where Bbe flung her¬ 
self on the ground and cried as If her heart 
would break. 
She had, perhaps, cried half an hour wnen a 
step crushed the dry grass at her side, roused 
her, and the very voice she most dreaded to 
hear said: 
“I’vo oome to return your ring, Mias Pru¬ 
dence." 
Poor little Prudence sat up hastily and look 
the unfortunate ring with a faltering, “Thank 
OIVLA.HAHIGH SCHOOL —(See next page). you;" then Immediately hid her face again. 
can go for a little while, perhaps. Oh, don’t 
stain your coat, Mr. Wentworth.” 
But Mr. Wentworth was sublimely Indifferent 
to his ooat, and worked with such a good-wlJI 
that the berries wore Boon picked over, and 
Prudence and himself on their way to the river. 
Five minutes later Prudence, with her draperies 
daintily bestowed around her, was seated In the 
stern of a little boat which, propelled by Mr. 
Wentworth’s practiced hands, shot swiftly 
down stream. 
Although Mr. Wentworth said to Prudence 
five times within an hour that H was a lovely 
day, and although Prudence assented every 
time, I hardly think they appreciated the beauty 
around them, for Prudence was quite absorbed 
with the Hlles and the reflections in tho water, 
and Mr. Wentworth looked more at his com¬ 
panion than at the aspect of nature. They had 
gathered enough lilies to satisfy them, and Pru¬ 
dence was leaning backward and idly trailing 
one hand in the water, when she suddenly ut¬ 
tered a little scream and sat erect, with white 
checks, from which the color had been fright¬ 
ened. 
“ Oh, I almost lost it! How careless I am 1" 
she exclaimed, replacing an old-fashioned ring, 
set with a tiny circle of rubies on her finger. 
“ Did the water sweep It off your hand ?" 
“I suppose so. It's too large for me. I’m 
always losing It and finding it again. T wouldn’t 
lose it entirely for the world, beoause it used to 
be grandmother's. She gave It to me.” 
“What a ourlou6 old ring it is!" said Mr. 
Wentworth, with interest. “ May I look at It ? 
Don’t trouble yourself to take it off," he added, 
drawing his oars and leaning toward his com¬ 
panion. 
Prudence allowed her tiny brown hand to lie 
In hla aristocratic white one a moment, then 
coquettishly withdrew it. 
“ Isn't It pretty?” she inquired, archly. 
“ Very pretty. Shall I tell you how to guard 
against losing it in the future ?” 
“ Oh yes, If you please." 
“ Wear tills little ring of mine to guard It; or 
better yet, exchange with me. Give me yours 
and take this instead,” said the young man, 
daringly. 
Provoking Prudenoe looked at the heaviiy- 
Mlss Prudence, you surely don’t mean to give 
it back?” 
“ Of course I do,” was the saucy rejoinder. 
“Why not?” 
“Because,” said Mr. Wentworth, Bpeaktng 
vety earnestly and disregarding his oars alto¬ 
gether, while ho tried to get a glimpse of the 
face hidden by the flat hat, “because I meant 
to ask you to wear it always for my sake. I 
meant to ask you-’’ 
“ Oh, Mr. Wentworth,” cried his listener here, 
“do you see that lily on your left—won’t you 
get it for me?” 
“ I’ll get you that and twenty others, if you’ll 
listen to me first. Do you care for me, Pru¬ 
denoe? Will you marry me?” 
Prudence’s face was turned away and her 
head bent lower. A crimson flush stole over 
ears, neck and chin. 
“ Prudence I” 
No answer. Her companion leaned over and 
took her hand again, venturously. 
“ Prudence, will you wear the ring?” he ques¬ 
tioned, softly. 
But the hand was hastily drawn away ; a pair 
of saucy black eyes flashed into bis own, and 
Prudence's merry laugh rang over the water. 
“ I’d rather have grandma’s, please. I ought 
to go home, Mr. Wentworth, for I know it’s 
almost tea time.” 
Mr. Wentworth put his ring In his pocket and 
took up the oars egaln energetically, without a 
word. He was fresh from college and had held 
the stroke oar In many a race, but he never 
made better time than he made that afternoon 
in rowing up the river. The Jlghfc boat shot 
along with the rower'* brows knitted and bis 
teeth set. Not once did he look at Prudenoe, 
who sat In half-puzzled, half-alarmed silence, 
now and then stealing sidewise glances at the 
offended young Hercules from under her hat. 
Mr. Wentworth drew a breath of relief when 
the boat at last grated on the sand and, having 
assisted Prudence to land, and curtly offered to 
carry her lilies, ho shouldered the oars aud 
marched grimly toward home by her side. Pru¬ 
dence, somewhat bewildered and more angry, 
made no effort to break the silence, and studi¬ 
ously endeavored to keep from crying. When 
he at last left her at the door, with a coo; 
“ You needn’t thank mo. I should have 
brought it before, but I couldn't find you. I 
hope you’re not troubled about those ridiculous 
jokes,” he added, dlgniflodly. 
“ N-o,” responded Prudence, miserably, be¬ 
tween her sobs; “I—I thought you'd think. I 
did it on purpose.” 
“How oould I have thought so? It was a 
mere accident my getting that particular bis¬ 
cuit. I’m very sorry you’ve been so annoyed in 
this way. I'm going away to-morrow, Miss Pru¬ 
dence.” 
The sobs partially ceased, and Miss Prudence 
said, surprisingly, “Are you?” 
“ Won’t you bid me good-by?” 
Prudence said “Yes,’’ unsteadily, but did not 
raise hor head. 
“ You will shake hands, won’t you, Miss Pru¬ 
dence?" 
No answer. 
“ I can't go away while you are offended with 
me. Won’t you at least tell me why you aie 
crying?” 
“ Because T—I lost my grandmother’s ring,” 
sobbed Prudence, making a great effort for 
composure. 
Mr. Wentworth laughed in spite of himself. 
“ Why, it's safe on your Anger and not a whit 
the worse for Its baking. Is there no other 
reason ?” 
“N-no.” 
“But there Is. t soall never have another 
happy moment If I've offended you,” said Mr. 
Wentworth, tragically. “ I was a brute to treat 
you as I did this afternoon; but I’m going 
away, and I shan’t annoy you again. Won’t you 
forgtve me now, and shake hands?” 
Another long 6l)enoe. Mr. Wentworth turned 
away In despair, but was detained by n faltering 
voice. 
“ I—I’ll forgive you, if-” 
“Well?” was the breathless Interposition. 
“ You—won’t—go—away.” 
The more observant boarders noticed at break¬ 
fast the next morning that Mr. Abbott Went¬ 
worth wore the ring he had found in the biscuit 
outlie little finger of his left hand and that 
Prudence wore a heavily chased gold circle in 
the place of her lost ornament. To use the 
words of one of the before-named boarders, 
“ That tells the whole story.” 
