Alice Wilde: The Raftsman's Daughter. A Forest Romance

								

turned away, and without even going to the cabin-door to inquire of
Mr. Wilde as he had proposed, struck into the pine-woods back of the
garden-patch.

CHAPTER II.
PALLAS AND SATURN.

Supper was over, and David Wilde was cutting with his jack-knife the
strings of several packages which had accompanied him on his trip back
from Center City, where he had disposed of his raft. His guest sat upon
a wooden settle, as much interested as the others in the proceedings,
though his eyes were fixed mostly upon the happy girl, who, with
all of her sex's love of finery, was upon her knees on the floor,
assisting, with smiling eyes and eager fingers, at the pleasant task
of bringing forth the contents of these packages. A dark-blue dress
of the finest merino, a rich shawl, and some pretty laces for collars
and ruffles rewarded her search. There was another package which was
all her own, with which she was equally delighted; it was made up of a
dozen of books, whose titles she eagerly read before she continued her
explorations.
"Here's a dress Mr. Moore picked out for you," said the raftsman,
maliciously, unfolding a gorgeous red and yellow calico.
"But I hadn't seen you, you know," returned Philip coloring.
At this moment Pallas, who had an eye upon the bundles, came in on a
pretence of clearing off the table.
"Come and look at my beautiful presents, Pallas," cried her young
mistress.
"You've got little les'n an angel fer a fadder, my dear chile,"
ejaculated that personage, catching sight of the calico from the corner
of her eye while admiring the merino.
Alice looked up into the rough sun-burnt face of her father with a
smile; the idea of his being an angel was not so ludicrous to her as it
was to their guest.
"Here's somethin' to help you along with yer sewing," continued David,
taking a little box containing a gold thimble from his jacket-pocket.
"See if it fits," and he placed it on the little fair hand.
"It sets to your finger like a cup to an acorn," exclaimed Pallas.
"Thar's none like masser to tell per-cisely what a person wants and
is a wishin' fer," and again her covert glance sought the calico.
"Sartainly, old girl; no doubt," chuckled the raftsman. "If that's the
case, jist take them handkerchiefs and that dress-pattern and give
'em to Saturn. You can keep the vest and the tobacker and the boots
yerself, and especially the trowsers--you've allers worn 'em!"
"Laws, masser, ef I hadn't, things would a gone to rack and ruin long
ago. Dat nigger of mine no use, but to sleep hisself to deaf. He's
a great cross to me, Saturn is," and with a profusion of smiles and
thanks she carried off her booty to the kitchen, graciously dispensing
his share to her "ole man," and condescending to be unusually affable.
"Ef we only had a camp-meetin' to go to now," she said, spreading out
the new jacket and trowsers beside the calico. "It's four yeer, come
nex' monf, since we went to dat meetin' down de riber. I declar' it's