Litchfield enquirer., 1861-01-03
THE DRAGONS DILEMMA
THE USE OF THE BEAUTIFUL.

IRE DEACON'S DlLEM M A
 THE USE OF THE BEAUTIFUL.
 BY MRS. HARRIET BEEcHER STOWE.
 Deacon Tiden had the squarsst, neatest white house that ever showed it's keen an. ges from the dusky clumps of old lilac bush es. In front of it stood, on each side of the doorway, two thrifty cherry-trees, which bore bushel each every season. Except ing the aforementioned llac-trees, there was not flower or shrub round the place. Rose bushes the Deacon thought routed the house. and the honeysuckle which his wife tried to train over the porch was torn down when the painters came, and on the whole, the Deacon said, what was the use of putting it up so long as it did not bear anything?
 By the side of the house was thrifty, well-kept garden, with plenty of currant bushes, gooseberry bushes, and quince trees and tine beets and carrots aud onions were the pride of the Deacon's heart; but as he often proudly said, everything was for use' -there was nothing fancy about it. His wife put in timorously ono season for flow er-bordcr-Mrs. Jenkyns had given her pe- tunia, and Mrs. Simpkins had brought her a package of flower-seeds from New New York and so bed was laid out. But the Dea- con soon found that the wedding of it took time that Mrs. Tilden might give to her dairy, or to making shirts, and knitting stockings, and so it really troubled his con science. The next spring he turned it into his corn field; and when his wife mildly iu- timated her disappointment, said pacidly, e. After all, 'twas thing of no use, and took tims"-and Mrs. TIdep, being meek wo- man, and one of the kind of saints who al- ways suppose themselves miserable sinners, specially confessed her sin of being inwardly vexed about the incident in her prayers that night, and prayed that her eyes might be turned of from beholding vanity, and that she might be quickcucd in the way of mind- ing her work.
 The front parlor of the Deacon's house was the most frigid asylum of neatness that ever discouraged the eyes and heart of vis- tor. The four blank walls were guitlcss of any engraving or painting, or of any adorn- ment but an ordinary wall paper and fram ed copy of the Declaration of Independence .on each of the three sides stood four chairs under the looking glass was shining ma hogany table, with a large Bible and au al- manac on it-and pair of cold, glittering brass andirons illustrated the fireplace. The mantel shelf above had pair of bright brass with pair of snuffers between and that was all The Deacon liked it-l it was plain and simplc-no nonsense about for use and nothing for show it suited him. His wife sometimes sighed and looked round it, when she was sewing, as if she wanted something, and then sung ia tue good old pslam-
 "From vanity turn off my eyes:
 Let no corrupt design . .
 Or covetous desires arise
 Within this heart of mine."
 The corrupt design to which this estima- ble matron had been tempted, had been the purchase of Partisan fower-vases whose beauty had struck to her heart when she went with her butter and eggs to the neigh boring city-but recolectine herself in time, she had resolutsly shut her eyes to the al- lursment, and spent the money usefully in buying loaf sugar.
 For it is to be remarked that the Deacon was fond of good eating, and prided himself on the bounties of bis wife's table. Few women knew better how to set one-and the snowy bread, golden butter, clear pre- serves and jellies, were themes of admi, ation at all the tea tables in the land. The Des' con didn't mind few cents on pound more for nicer ham, and would now and then bring in treat of oysters from the city when they were dearest. These were comforts he said-one must stretch point for the con- forts of life.
 The Deacon must not be mistaken Tor tyrannical man or bad husband. When he quietly put his wife's fower-patch into his corn-feid, he thought he had done her Q service by curing her of an absurd notion for things that took time and made trouble and were of no use; and she, dear soul, neyer had breathed dissent to any course of his loud enough to let him know she had one. He laughed in his sleeve often when he saw her so tranquilly knitting or sbirt-making all those times she had been wont to- give to her poor contrabapd pleasures. As for the aower-yases, they were repented of-and Mrs. Tilden put handful of spring anemones into cracked pitcher and set it on her kitch- on table, till the Deacon tossed them out of the window--"h he couldn't bear to see weeds growing round"
 The poor little woman had a kind of chron- lc heart-sickness like the pining of teeen. ing child, but she never knew exactly %hat -L. erhn