The state rights democrat. [volume] (Albany, Linn County, Oregon) 1865-1900, 1870-10-21

ny AMY RANDOLPH.

"I tell you it's all nonsense" sale
Uncle Peleg. ."Charity--benevolenc'
pity Its oil played outl You
big fairs may be all very nice, but poo
i pie don't come there because the,
pity the poor; they come because III
fashionablel
Horatia Mere shook her pretty head
"You see, child" said Uncle Peleg
taking snuff, you're on the wron.
platform ever to get peep behint
the curtain. You're On heiress, an,
you're very good looking, and have I
way that people like, and therefore th'
world puts it's best foot forward, 81
far as you are concerned. II you wer'
Mrs. Skies, the washerwoman. OIL
Betty, the orangewoman, you'd SCI
quite different aspect of things"
Nonsense, uncle" said Horatia
still unconvinced. BE good, darl
ing old Uncle Peleg, and let me hav'
the 1riomphe de Grande strawberries il
your south garden border for my re
freshment table. Remember, I'm Il
sell strawberries and cream, and
want my table to look the best in tn,
room.
"Who do you suppose will bu.
YOUR strawberries, at the outlaudisl
price you'll put upon them9" he de
manded, sourly. Everybody" Ho
ratia answered. saucily. Come
Uncle Peleg. be generous ant
graceful, and say shall have them!
Uncle Peleg took snuff.
"On one condition you can have
them"
Horatia clapped her white, ros,
hands.
"And that"
"Just wait until you hear, said thu
old man, drily. "You can't have IN,
fifty quarts Of Trionphe de Grand
Strawberries. each cne as big rs a pig
cons egg, until you have first sold ,
dozen quarts from door to door"
Horatia opened her brown, wonder
ing eyes like twin wells of hazel light
81, Uncle Peleg?"
"You niece Horatia! And I am te
specify the houses where you are tt
GO"
"It will be fun," cried Horatia
with gay laugh, "I'd just as soon de-
it as not"
Perhaps it will be fun. perhaps i
won't" said Uncle Peleg. "At al
events, want you to get one glimpse
ut least. of life through strawberr,
woman's eyes"
And l am to be disguised, Uncle
Peleg?'
"To be sure you are. Miss Hora
tia Mere would have no difficulty il
disposing of her wares; q friendles
girl is different"
"All the more delightful-n regular
tableau rirant" cried Horatia. merrily
well, Uncle where am to go?'
"I'll write down list of names fol
you, that shall be culled out of you,
dearest Mrs. Montague, Mrs
Dysart, Miss Ferrars and the like"
They will all buyw cried Horatia
We II see," Uncle Peleg said
care you willing to buy the Triomph'
de Grdnde at such price as this, Ho
ratia?"
'At any price," tho girl answered
gleefully.
"You don't know how disagreeahlt
you mny find it."
sit will be n perfect ndrenture!' =
said Horatia. recklessly.
bot mind, you're to keep it Sc
cret."
GAS the grave" his mischievous
niece answered, with mock solemnity
Miss Horatia Mere would scarcely
been recognized by her nearest friends
when she was dressed for the curious
part she was to play 'for one day only
as she declared. 4 calico dress; thicl
boots in her tiny feet felt unwontedly
clumsy; much-worn waterproof
cloak, borrowed from Mary Ann, the
cook, and worsted hood enveloped
in a faded black veil, and q basket
hanging over her arm-these were the
details of her costume.
Strawberries" she cried, raising
her sweet voice to G., above. "Oh,
Uncle Peleg, it will be such joke. >
And she tripped away, delighted O,
the prospect of playing at the reali
ties of life.
Uncle Peleg looked after her rather
doubtfully, as he resorted mechanic
ally to his unfailing panacea for al
human ills or perplexities, the SNUFF
box.
elm almost sorry I sent her or
such an unpalatable errand," he said
to himself; "but it's just as we'll she
should learn to see the world as it re.
ally is. Her life has been all couleu,
de rose, and no wonder. The straw.
berries will be a dear bargain after
allp
While these eccentric reflections
were passing through the old man &
brain, Horatia Mere had already
reached the first house on her list, in
habited by Mrs. Montague. lady
who had always the sweetest and mos.
saint-like character, whose voice was
soft and low, and who spoke in six
syllabled words of Websterian ele.
gance.
Mrs. Montague herself was in the
hall as Horatia rang the door-bell.
eff ye please ma'am," said Bridget
'it's girrel sellin' strawberries-will
we buy quartz?
Strawberries indeed! and at the
upper doorp shrilly cried Mrs. Monta.
que, in q voice that for an instant al
most compelled Horatia to DOUBT the
lady's identity. "Don't you know
better, girl, than to bring your trump
cry wares to the front door? What
do 'spose basement balls were made
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