Prescott journal. [volume] (Prescott, Wis.) 1861-1871, 1864-06-11
AUNT HEPZIE's WARNING.


and hold this zephyr while wind, and I'll
tell you all about it,"
Aunt Hepzie had come over to take tea
with my mother, and the two were sitting,
in cheerful state, before the parlor fire
aunty was arrayed in her pontiicals, her best
alpaca gown and silk apron, with stiff cap,
which always came in box and went in
Oox, and during the interregnum lowered sub
timely upon its owners head.
as there any thing of interest in the viii
Iage 2" asked mother. Aunt HepZie was
from the village. We were suburbans.
"No' nOthin' partikelar that l know Of"
replied my aunt, cOnscientiously, at the same
time adjusting her knitting sheath. 6 | think
our church is in an awful condition"
"Why do you? =. thought they seemed
very united the last year." remarked mother
limited On dear yes, Deacon Hall he
saws we're all froze together. Oh, he talked
beautiful about it 1.-THE last Conference meet
in Said he wondered the storms that come
down on Sodomland GomOrrer didn't visit US.
oh, it's o. the Lords mercy that we amt con-
sumed, every one on US and aunty gave
a deep sigh.
"Why as to that, it's of Gods mercy we
have all our blessings, isn't it Hepzibah ?"
replied mother, with some energy. She new
errelished aunty's attacks upon times and peo-
pie; and she went on, i" As for thinking that
we are in an. danger of the fate of SOdOm, |
don't even think we are particularly deserv-
ing of it. No doubt we have all great reason
to be humble on account of our sins; but
what's the use of saying that We live in the
worst age, and among the worst people?
It's no such thing For my part, I'm thank
full my lines have fallen in such pleasant
places"
"Well, Susan, I'm glad eff you can take
such a cheerful view On'ti but that warn't
the was Deacon Hall talked An speakin' O.
him reminds me; they do say t Carissy
Halls RELY going to be married. They Dor
ried Miss Squire JOnes's cake tins this morn
in. Borryin' them cake tins alters means
Weddin'; right off too. An thai makes me
think "-aunty was fairly under way now. /
knew there would be no intermissiOn until
tea time.
"D'ye know that Squire Jones's nephew
had come up from New York to spend the
Summer?n
"No. We hadn't heard of it. What
nephew? ?" asked mother.
"Why, young Farley. You remember his
mother; she t was Lecty Jones. She mar
ried Farley, an they went off down country
sOmewheres to live, an this is her SON."
g All yes, L remember his mother perfect
ly. Well, this will be very pleasant for Mrs.
Jones'"
pleasant for the girls, you'd better say
Master hand he is for the girls, they TEL me,
an shouldn't wonder. Come up here for
his health, indeed Don't believe a word of
il. | see him to meetin' long O. Miss Jones,
an he looked well 'nOugh, 'cOrdin' to my way
o. thinkin'. All pink and white. Well,
know one thing Eff | was girl | wouldn't
speak 10 him with all his airs. The upstartl"
and aunty made an emphatic pause. There
was a silence broken only by the clicking of
two sets of knitting-needles. had a book,
reading with my eyes and hearing with my
ears, quite conscious that the present subject
was supposed to have bearings upon myself
81 tell you," began Aunt Hepzie again,
sturdily, "girls better be pretty careful. City
beaus is mighty Onsartain-mighty onsar-
tain" and she repeated the words to render
them still more impressive. "All they care
for country girls is TO kite about an hev
good time with 'em here, an when they get
back to the city they don't think no more
about 'em n they do about last years robins
not a whit more; so, LoiZy"-here she
sent shot from her black eyes over her
spectacles at me-"sO now you may take
warnin'."
'Thank you, aunty, but l don't think it
will be needed. Pink and white people aren't
just my style, you know" said
just out of the city there was a grand old
place, with bay windOws and balconies, foun-
tains and flowers. That was the Farley place.
Up on the hill there was brown house, with
low roof and uncovered porch. That was
our house. Philip Farley's father owned
ships on sea and blocks on shore Mine had
gone to sleep years ago, under the tangle of
wild brier and gOlden-rOd up in the church |
yard.
Six feet tall and broad-shouldered. with
blue eyes, light hair, and a beard golden and
silken like embroidery fOss-that's Philip.
You see how little and dark am; and my
hair, did you ever see it down? Look at me |
then when | take the combs out Black as
night, and nearly covers me, you see. "Vain |
OF 1t" you say? A trife, perhaps. Why |
not! know it's beautiful. If were pretty |
myself I'd own 1T all the same but I'm not |
you know. Wasn't it odd that a great mass |
of sunshine like Philip should fancy a little |
dusky bit of shadow like me? But he did. |
and | knew it, of course. woman always |
knows, l suppose. And / don't mind now |
telling you that Liz ed him from the first. In |
fact we were in love; l use the expression |
under protest, because it's the briefest way of |
putting it.
You know there is a class of our country |
people who, for some reason or other. are in |
imical toward their city brethren. You can |
easily imagine that my Aunt Hepzie was one |
of these. 1t was a few days after her tea |
drinking at our house that she was busting |
about one bright morning in her tidy kitchen, |
oy-the-by, you should see. From silver spoon |
down to brass kettle, everything shines. 1t |
would be work of superreogation to intro |
duee mirrors into that house, when one may
see ones face in every thing. But, as said, |
Aunt HepzIe was in the kitchen when she |
heard g skrimping noise" as she reported |
to me subsequently,, with vigor of direction /
peculiarly her own, and turning, she was /
aware OF figure standing in the doorway.
Mrs. Sinclair, think" said the stranger,
with bow
"fes, that is my name" replied auntie.
more concise than suave. "Wbat did he /
want to come TO the back door for ," she |
thought.
And mine is Farley" said the Young man
g think you used to know my mother, Mrs |
Sinclair; and / hope you'll let me come and |
see you sometimes for old acquaintance's |
sake"
I'd be very glad to see you, I'm sure"
SAID sunty, little less stif1y-the chivalrous |
hostess.
y aunt sent over this basket of roots
run her garden Perhaps you will allow me |
se1 mem Ior You IN your border" he said. |
on, I'm much obleeged! Won't you Just |
AND the young man crossed the kitchen
ninging MS brOad-brimmed straw hat upon
tne "hite table, tossing back his curls, and \
'ne - S SgiIing upon the doing cat: