“Her, I tell you. I can’t stand here gablin’ all day.”
“But, my good friend, there is some error—these things were not sent to me,” persisted Rosalie, looking longingly at the hard, sweet-smelling butter, with the dew rising on it.
With no more ado, “Billy” marched up to the corner cupboard, seized a knife, passed it under the print of butter, and deftly turned the print out of the pan into a plate; next, he took up the pail and poured the milk into a pitcher; finally, he went back and seized his basket, and seeing nothing, to receive the vegetables, just turned it upside down and shook them out upon the floor—and potatoes, cucumbers, onions, tomatoes, &c., rolled in every direction. And “Billy” caught up his empty pan and pail and pitched them into the basket, and hitched the latter, with a jerk, upon his arm, and marched out of the door, exclaiming—
“Now, for the futur’, mind, you must come arter ’em every day, yourself—if they’re worth havin’ they’re worth comin’ for, an’ I’ve got ’nough to do for her, ’out trudgin’ over here every day for you. An’ I told her I wan’t agoin’ to do it, nuther,” &c., &c., &c.
For long after Billy was out of sight in the woods, Rosalie heard the retreating sound of his grumbling. Full of wonder, she set about to collect the fugitive potatoes, tomatoes, &c. She put them under the lower shelf of her cupboard, and drew the short white curtain before them; then she set the pitcher of rich milk and the plate of fresh butter upon the table, much pleased with the unexpected luxury, but more pleased to anticipate the surprise and pleasure of Mark. And all being ready, she took her sewing, and sat in the door to watch for his coming. She heard his footstep before she saw his form; and she closed the door and ran up the woodland path to meet him. And soon their merry voices and silvery laughter echoed through the forest, as they approached the cabin. Rosalie had said nothing of her new luxuries; and when they entered the cabin, and he threw a glance around, and dropped his eyes upon the table, first of all he caught and kissed Rose again for her affectionate care, and then, by his exclamations and questions, exhibited all the surprise and satisfaction that the most exacting little Rose could have desired. While they supped, Rosalie explained the mystery of the plums and raspberries, and, after relating the visit of Billy, requested an explanation of the other mystery, of the butter, milk, and vegetables, and expressed her fears that, after all, she had no right to them—that they were intended for some one else. Mark reassured her by giving his opinion that they were intended for herself, and no other; and that she would find out, the next day, probably, the kind neighbour who had sent them.
After supper was over and cleared away, and the young pair had rested awhile, and the moon had risen, they crossed the rill and went up the hill to enjoy the fine air and the extended view.
And thus closed their first day at the log cabin.
And the next morning Rosalie found out her kind neighbours.
CHAPTER XXIV.
DOMESTIC ARRANGEMENTS.
“They grow in the world’s approving eyes,