The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1859-01-08

old maxim to suit her own purpose, she
resolved both TO endure and to cure.
" What do you set about to-day 20
she asked, as Mr.. Ashton, having ex-
haustcd the paper, arose from the sofa
corner.
Visiting" replied Ills reverence, j."
must 90 up to old Mrs. Balcomb's and
see the Joneses, and try to prevail on
Phil Taegart to let his children come to
the Sunday School once more. Then l
have to see poor Maggy Carpenter, who
is much worse again, and if | have time,
| shall get into an omnibus and ride out
to the mills, to that girl, Miss Flower,
mentioned to me yesterday"
"What round :" exclaimed Chris
sey. =" You will never get home to din
ncr at two o'clock. think will put
it off till six, and run the risk of being
thought 'stuck up like poor cousin
Lily"
What do you mean!"
Why. you know they always dine at
SIX to suit the Doctors arrangemcnts.-
One day Lily called about some society
matter on lady who lives not a hundred
miles from her street, about five o'clock
in the afternoon. The lady herself came
to the door, and Lilly was about entering,
when she thought she perceived the
smell Of roast meat in the hall, and said
very politely, But, perhaps it is your
dinner hour !'''
" No indeed replied madam, with
Indignation. We don't dine at this
time Of day we are not so stuck up y"
Poor Lily !" exclaimed Mr.. Ashton,
laughing, what did she say!"
go! she did her GRAND, and retired,
of course. There was nothi ne to be
said
Mr.. Ashton turned to 60 into the
study, and as he did so, his foot caught
i'll the carpet, and he nearly fell down.
Chrisscy started in alarm, but he rccov-
cred himself, and said pcttishly enough
4" do wish you would have that car
pet nailed down. have stumbled over
it twenty times in the course of a week,
do believe"
81 thought Amy had fastened it,"
returned his wife, with perfect mildness.
&C am sure | saw her at work there
The door must pull it out Of place, |
Think
80 Of course there is some excellent
reason for lis being out of order. 1t
seems tome that, with all your ingenuity
you might lind some way Of making it
more secure"
lie turned into his study, shutting the
| Tow al,
force, and Mrs. Ashton returned to the
fire, and arranged her work-basl.ct for
the day, with something OF cloud on
her fair face. She was not left long
nndistUrbcd, for Mr.. Ashton's voice was
soon heard calling her in impatient tones.
She sighed, but arose and entered the
next room, whore she found Der husband
standing before his bureau partly dress
ed, and with shirts, crayats and hand
Scrchiels scattered about him like a new
kind Of snow, while his face bore an OK
precision OF melancholy reproach at once
painful and slightly lulicrous.
"What is the matter - shed asked.
go, the old story Not button
where it out to be not shirt ready to
wear do not mean to be unreasona-
bIc,' he continued, in an agitatcd voice,
as he tumbled over the things, to the
manifest discomposure Of the clean linen,
"but really, Chrissey, think you might
see that my clothes are in order. | am
sure l would do more than that for you ;
but here am delayed and put to the
greatest Inconvenience, because you cam
not sew on these buttons | should
really think that little Of the time you
spend in writing to George and Henry
might as well be bestowed on me-"
This address was delivered in tone
and manner Of mounrul distress, which
might have been justified, perhaps, if
Mrs. Ashton had picked his pocket as he
was going to church.
What is the matter with this shirt %
asked Chrisscy, quietly examining one
OF the discarded garments. 1t seems
to have all the buttons in their places !;
and this one, too, is quite perfect and
there is another. My dear husband,
how many shirts do you usually wear at
a time p
90! it is all very we'll for you to
smile, my love, but | do assure you
found several with no means at all of
fastening the wrist bands. We had
breakfast late, and now shall be de-
tanned half an hour, when ought to be
away. know you mean well, but if
you had served a years apprenticeship
with my mother before you were married,
it might have been all the better for your
housekeepiny.'
lit might have prevented it altogc-
ther," thought Chrissey but the thong ht
was depressed in moment. She picked
up and replaced the scattered apparel,
folded the snowy cravats, warmed her
husbands overshoes, and saw that the
beautiful little communion service, pre-
scented by lady of the parish, and con-
secrated to such sufferers as Maggy Car
penter, was in readiness. Before he left
the house, Mr.. Ashton had forgotten
both his fretfulness and its cause. He
kissed his wife, thanked her for her
trouble, proposed that she should send
for Lily to spend the day with her, and
strobe away with his usual elastic step
and pleasant face.
Chrissey watched him from the door
till he turned into the next street, and