acres at her feet, she found it impossible to accept for her life's
companion a man whose soul was wrapped up in prize cattle and big
turnips.

Uncle Enos never could forgive her for this piece of folly, and
Christie plainly saw that one of three things would surely happen,
if she lived on there with no vent for her full heart and busy mind.
She would either marry Joe Butterfield in sheer desperation, and
become a farmer's household drudge; settle down into a sour
spinster, content to make butter, gossip, and lay up money all her
days; or do what poor Matty Stone had done, try to crush and curb
her needs and aspirations till the struggle grew too hard, and then
in a fit of despair end her life, and leave a tragic story to haunt
their quiet river.

To escape these fates but one way appeared; to break loose from this
narrow life, go out into the world and see what she could do for
herself. This idea was full of enchantment to the eager girl, and,
after much earnest thought, she had resolved to try it.

"If I fail, I can come back," she said to herself, even while she
scorned the thought of failure, for with all her shy pride she was
both brave and ardent, and her dreams were of the rosiest sort.

"I won't marry Joe; I won't wear myself out in a district-school for
the mean sum they give a woman; I won't delve away here where I'm
not wanted; and I won't end my life like a coward, because it is
dull and hard. I'll try my fate as mother did, and perhaps I may
succeed as well." And Christie's thoughts went wandering away into
the dim, sweet past when she, a happy child, lived with loving