Smyrna times., 1866-01-10
From the Home Journal.]
LISTEN.
BY DAISY HOWARD.


believe it. l kept Sandy in good humor
all last week, feeding him On roast beef and
pudding, lamb and mince pies This week he
has been as cross as a BEAR because | have gi-
ven him "a surteit of corned beet" as he
phrases it.
"COrned beef is very well in its place, Mrs
Jones, he said with exasperating politeness
" but it is apt to lie uneaSily upon ones stonl-
ach, if persisted in. Pray let us have change
to-day"
| AS soon as that man was cut of sight, Invent
down to the kitchen to examine the larder
There was corned beef enough in the house to
last at least three days about peck of pota-
toes, and some mince-ueat; but, alas q! no mo-
| ney.
The truth of it is to make clean breast of
it, Mr. Jones had gone to Philadelphia, to be
absent four days. and had returned, unexpect-
edly, on the morning Of the second. |, mean
while, coveting one Of those lovely" velvet
basQutnes had, with an eye to economy, pur-
chased corn beef enough to last the entire four
days This with the additional economy of
dispensing with vegetables and dessert, would
leave quite a helpful little sum to devote to the
| 6dSquine.
C9rned beef, as you all know, goes very
much farther than roast, and the children would
not miss the vegetables and dessert and, if
they did, being of very tender age wouldn t
know what allied them. You may imagine my
discOmpOsure when Sandy walked in!
My suit is deferred till next court, Patty, "
he said, adding, dolorously, Il have lost my
time and spent my money for naught. 1t will
throw me short this month. Perhaps you
| could let me have ten or fifteen dollars, Patty
| gave you rather more than usual this month
| for household expenditures.
gave him ten dollars. My last dollar Will
some tO ItS
You will now be enabled to understand why
Mr.. Jones's Pray let us have a change to-
| day" rang in my ears like the doom of Fate
| As | have said, stood examining the larder,
wishing for the belief of my childhood in fairy
gOdmothers, and that | could see suddenly a
fine pair of ribs or pair Of chickens, with a
basket of fresh vegetables, occupying their ac-
customed places.
What should L do for dinner? TO be sure
it was only ten o clock, and Sandy did not come
| home till seven; but the matter of hours would
avail me naught, for my purse was empty.
| a loud ring at the door-bell. Enter a ser
want with huge parcel. opened 1.-THE new
6aSqui,te, with the inevitable bill pinned to it
(Alas the money that toHs to have paid foI
the making OF it was, most probably, already
scattered far and wide, 1. e., cigars, billiard
rooms, club-room, DelmOnico' 81
felt as if the sky had fallen but said, non
chdlGatly : Let the boy tell Madame -
will lind time to try the garment on some tim,
during the day. | will then let her hear from
me" 81,
g breathed freer when I heard the stree
door close after the boy. | knew MADAME
+ would be angry but she would not dar
show her temper. Mrs. Patty Jones was
good customer. For the first time in my life
was ashamed of myself. That l, Patty Jones
the good daughter of a good mother shoul
Aoo III IL
, To do Sandy justice, he is always willing t
provide me with all necessary wearing appare
Indeed, after all, don't believe there is q be
i ter-tenlpered man in the world than Sandy
t ,ohen he isn't hungry!
/ But this GGSquine was not necessary, and
/ should never have thought Of one if Mrs. Skit
: der, over the way, had not purchased one, an
y kept continually inquiring in her mincing maj
q ner, Ii didn't intend to have Gdsqu0
d this Winter?"
# But that dinner Till twelve O clock I meC
h itated over it then the bell rang for lunch, an
!. l went down to" corned beefn'
n AT one and a half of the clock I stepped int
n a car, and, as rapidly as that vehicle could ca
u ry me, travelled to Thirty-fourth stree
Il where I made father-confessor of Aunt Patt
:, Ainslee, the "auntie' of our family, BONN
o my lips in the dust of humiliation.
|, :" / did not need it, Aunt Patty. I ha7
:, | done very wrong. -
il "Never mind, child. The sin is almost G,
r plated by the repentance you feel. But, Pa
h ty, child, what tempted you to this thingP
y never knew you welded to dress.
# What, indeed Not to please Sandy, for
d had q. warm, handsome cloak. Not to plea
10 Sandy, for he loves me just as well in pla
It cloth as in velvet.
Ie was obliged to answer, with flushed chez
d and unsteady lips, 8 | scarcely know, Au
N Patty. am afraid it was because all the re
g of nv friends had one. II is very poor re
G. son, auntie, but one which governs women tC
Or great degree. Women dress TO please, or
rs ther to excel each other--there is the trouble
at "And the san, childl Let this be lesson
e. you, Patty. Always, when you wear the &C
eted garment, remember the pain OF to-ds
he and you will never again yield to like temp
ne ton
ell / shall never wear it, auntie. | shall SC
ng it down to LIS, and have it sold cant
an bear the sight Of it. Il reminds me too Tor
N, bly, of my folly.
lal Aunt Patty gave me forty dollars.
nd went home, and sent that wretehed cC
,ht beet rouni to the washeFwOman, and order
or dinner. ,'Yfud-sY "a r.J---.o lfttr-
ere Then / paid Madame, ------ for making
err bdsquine, and sent it down to Is, with
ok request that he would "sell il for -"-j
es. what it cost me, minus the. anxious thong
bis Notifications, regrets, and lose OF sefrvsps