Western Reserve chronicle. [volume] (Warren, Ohio) 1855-1921, 1859-11-09

plump in front of DR.. Hopkins every Sun
day, and listened to his searching and dis
eliminating sermons with broad, homes
smiles of satisfaction. Those keen dis
tinctions as to motives. those awful warn
ings and urgent expOstulatiOns, which mad
poor Deacon Twitchel weep, she listened II
r with great round. satisfied eyes, maxim!
= to all, and after all, the same remark, tha
it was good, and she liked it, and the Doc
tor was good man; and on the present
; occasion, she announced her pot of butter
as one fruit of her reflections after the las
discourse.
You sec,' she said, 'as was a-settin' il
the spring house, this mornin, a-workin
my butter, l says to Dinah,-I'm gOin' t.
carry pot of this down to Miss Scuddel
for the Doctor,S-I got so much good out oI
his Sundays sermon And Dinah she
says to me, says she,-'Laws, Miss Jones,
thought you was asleep, for sartin!' But
wasn't; only forgot to take any cara.
away-seed in the mornin.' and so l kinder
!, missed it; you know it 'livens one up. But
| never lost myself so but what l kinder
heerd him goin' on, sort o ike,-and it
sounded all sort o good; and so thought
of the Doctor to-day
We'll, I'm sure said Aunt Katy, this
will be treat we all know about your
butter, Mrs. Jones. l sha'n't think of put
ting any of mine on table tonight, I'm
sure
! Law, now don't!' said Mrs. Jones
Why. you reilly make me ashamed, Miss
Scudder. To be sure, folks does Ike our
butter, and it always fetches pretty good
pricc,-he's very proud ont. l tell him he
oughtn't to be,-we oughtn't to be proud
of anything
And now Mrs. Katy. giving look at
the old clock, told Mary it was time to set
the tea-table; and forthwith there was a
gentle movement of expectancy. The little
mahOgony tea-table Openened its brown
wings, and from drawer came forth the
snowy damask covering 1t was etiquette,
on such occasions, to compliment every az
ticle of the establishment successively, as it
appeared; so the Deacon's wife began at
the table-cloth.
Well, l do declare, Miss Scudder beats
us all in her table-cloths, she said, taking
up corner of the damask admiringly; and
Mrs. Jones forthwith jumped up and seized
the other corner.
why, this ere must have come from the
Old Country. It's mot the beauti6est
thing l ever see
Its my own spinning, replied Mrs. Ia
ty, with conscious dignity. There was an
Irish weaver came to Newport the year be-
fore Twas married, who wove beautifully,
just the Old-Country patterns,-and I'd
been spinning some uncommonly fine fax
then. l remember Mr. Scudder used to
read to me while l was spinning, and
Aunt Katy looked afar, as one whose
thoughts arc in the past, and dropped ont
the last words with little sigh, unconscious
ly, as if speaking to herself
We'll, now, must say said Mrs. Jones,
this goes quite beyond me. l thought I
could spin some; but l sha'n't never dare
to show mine.
I'm sure. Mrs. Jones. your towels that
you had out bleaching, this spring, were
wonderful said Aunt Katy. But don't
pretend to do much now,' she continued, |
Strengthening her trim figure. I'm getting
old, you know; We must let the young folks
take up these things. Mary spins better
now than l ever did. Mary. hand out !
those NAPKINS
And so Mary rapkins passed from hand
to hand.
We'll, WE'LL said Mrs. Twichel to Mary,
its easy to say that your linen-chest will
be pretty full by the time he comes along;
won't it. Miss Jones?'-and Mrs. Twichel
looked pleasantly facetious, as elderly Ia
dies generally do. when suggesting such
possibilities to younger ones.
Mary was vexed to feel the blood boil
up in her checks in most unexpected and
provoking way at the suggestion; whereat
Mrs. Twichel nodded knowingly at Mrs
Jones, and whispered something in a mys-
tcriOus aside, to which plump Mrs. Jones
answered,-'Well do tell! now neverl'
Its strange said Mrs Twiehel, taking
up her parable again, in such a plaintive
tone that all knew something pathetic was
coming what mistakes some folks will
make, a-fctchin' up girls Now there's
your Mary. Miss Scudder,-why, there
ant nothin' she can't do; but law, l was
down to Miss SINNERS, last week. a-watch-
in with her, and reilly it most broke my
heart to see her. Her mother was most
amazin' smart woman; but she brought
Suky up, for all the world, as if She d been
a wax doll. to be kept in the drawer,-and
sure enough, she was pretty creetur, and
now she's married, what is she? She han't
no more idec how to take hold than moth.
in The poor child means well enough,
and she works so hard she most kills her
self; but then she is in the suds from morn
in till night,-she's one the sort whose
works never done,-and poor George Skin
ner's clean discouraged
There's everything in kno,cing hoto.' /