Constantine republican. [volume] (Constantine, Mich.) 1836-1838, 1837-05-10

| PoSuiiuH VIII queer look al me.
"Then it must be for me-" said my
aunt: "two pence did you say?"
"I'll take your money, Miss Elspat,"
said he, "but the letters no. for you neither
your day for such missives is by"
"What do you mean, bodie 2" exclaim-
cd my aunt, my day is no. by for aught
that ken off; there was Kate Jameson
that met with a love disappointment at sew
enty, and scarcely recovered it for half a.
dozen years."
"Bess us all !" thought !, " can this let
ter be for mel" ] did not know where to
look, or what TO do nay, when saw my
father glance at the back, and then give me
one of his admonishing shake-of.the- head
sort of looks, knew so little what was
about, that my aunt-when she tells the
story-vows that | sat down the wrong
way to the wheel, and span at the rate OF
three threads to the pound.
Jenny" said my father, "there's two
pence thrown clean away. If James
Lorenzo had aught to say, wherefore did
he no. come and say itl But he must
show his learning, and put the whole
house in stir, and all TO get rid Of some
long words only to be found in the bottom
of an ink-horn, or dictionary that has all
words save those we daily use."
"Let me look at this same letter." said
my aunt, +" for love has grand language
of its own; it deals in none of your smear
sheep and buy-wool sort of words"
My spirit got up at this. al like to see
a lads thoughts in black and white," said
"words have wings and fly away when
only spoken; but when written down,
there they are, and one knows what's
what"
"Jenny has more sense than we have
both," exclaimed my aunt 81 allowed a
lad to blow III my lug for full! half year,
and what came of it the words were soft
and pleasant, but were forgotten had they
been in black & white, might have held him
to them, and no. been sitting here, to-day,
like neighborless SHOE" And she gave
her head prideful toss.
"What needs all this din p said my ia
Their: :" the letter is letter that no one can
be held TO; it is what they call poetry, and
all the world knows there is no sense in
that. What lightness could Jamie Lor-
ance see in my child, that he could write
to her in rhymes 7 The outside ofthe door
shall be his when he comes-remember
that, Elspat."
But should have told you, Maggie, that
all the while there was witness to this
Preside farce; and who was it but the
painter bodie Of whom / spoke before
He had seen what he called the interior of
our house, and desired to draw it, because
it was so pcturesque,-is that the right
word And it was really wonderful to
see what likenesses he had made Of our
clocking-hen; the cat washing her face in
the sun; the broth-pot boiling over, and my
aunt cooling 1t; not to speak of hanks oil
yarn and sheepskins hung up to dry, and
hams rcesting in the reek. Well, we see
while the grand controversy about the let.
ter lasted, thought saw this painter chap
looking whites at me, then at my aunt, syne
at my father, and fourthly at the postman
but then as he aye busted himself with his
} pencil and paper, had no suspicion thai
he was daubing us all down in black ant
blue, and red and green, and purple anc
, puce. Maggie, he has made highland
plaid of us; we are all the colors of the
rainbow. However, the postman was pait
his money; the painter took up his looms
, and left us /; | sat down to my wheel, ant
at the right side too; my aunt looked a
. herself in the glass, set her head-geal
r straight, and muttered, "As unlikely ;
lamb has found a MARKET" while my fathe
, grumbled audibly about the postage.
) "Two pence 2" heard him say, " ant
5 for foolish rhymes, too! was ever the lik'
/, heard Off
| had forgotten all about it, when it wa
}, recalled to my memory, and in way tina
: am not sure shall so easily forgive
: One morning the painter bodie came t
4 our house, with something in fine shining
n frame, which he placed against the wal
y saying, cay, that's the proper light"
!, saw my aunt hold up her hands and cry
d "No, but the like of that, now!" and
n heard my father say, "Indeed, man, bu
# We had little to do, when we wasted sue
9 rich colors on an old man, and older VIC
Q man, and still older house, and gidd
d lassie of seventeen,--and yo call this
e picture 70 | rose to look at this picture {
5, his. Well, | never knew what a pctul
was before any one may make pctur
&c if yon's one; he had done nothing more {
lr less than clink us all down, just as we al
peared in the grand scene of the letter.
b, There sat at my wheel, discomposed, I
S, doubt: there stood my aunt; her skim
Re finger in her purse, and her peaked chi
TO like the moon in her last agony, most Gu
to ting my fathers shoulder; there was N
e, father, with his fingers on the seal, his e.
IS on me, and a cloud of doubt on his brow
t. while the postman looked in ut the windo'
IS anxious for histwo pence, and with glan'
OF that said, al know all about it."
IN wish, Maggie. that ye could ma
heard and seen us ye never saw none
OF folk in such nutter. Do you mind no
" your hen and chickens raised their wing
to and screamed, and run round, when yo
Sc brother William set down q gorb of
4; hawk in the midst of theml Do "
IS mind how your lambs ran, startling, al
IN your calves cooked both tail and ear, VIII
sit a drum was beat, for the first time, in o
err valley these were but typical of o
20 looks and actions, when this painter boo
lg put down his picture amongst us.
It'll "Pll no say but that the house, and n
A brother, and my niece, and the dog. al
the old patched coat on the wall, are IKE
ny said my aunt, "but, preserve US wha'
lot sharp chin and skinny hand have cor
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