The Tipton advertiser. [volume] (Tipton, Cedar Co., Iowa) 1856-1962, 1870-12-22
AGATHA'S FORTUNE.
A Story of old Newspapers.

Ihe yellow November sunshine was
doing its best to brighten the old farm.
house Kitchen; the yellow leaves b!otci,-
ed and stained with scarlet, which had
eddied down to the touch Of many u fit-
tul wind and midnight frost from the
big maple tree by the door stone, lay in
pools of shaded gold, stirred by every
gust, and the gnarled apple tree by the
well had long since been ri1led Of its
weight Of crimson-streakcd fruit.
~ do b'lieve the apple crop is the best
we've had this ten year, said Moses
Jefferson, as he strobe into the kitchen
with a bag Of seed corn over his shoul-
der.
Mrs Jefferson, a spare, wiry looking
woman, as different rs possible from her
burly, beaming husband, sat at the
Whitley ttCultd pine table,
shelling beans vigorously into pan.
Agatha, the only t.hiid, WAS c'nSo to che
window, her pretty profile outlnrd
against the blue cameo of the sky, intent
ly busted in the unromantic but useful
occupation of setti ng thrifty patch on
the elbow Of her fathers brown cloth
coat, with quick agile fingers, and nee
Ill. that glanced in and out like q flying
shaft ofsilver.
She was pretty girl with soft hazel
eyes, abundant brown hair, coiled pictur-
ssquejy round her head, and complex
ion which, albeit somewhat touched
with the too ardent finger of the sun,
was full Of delicate reds and whites.
Moses jefferson and Clarissa his wife
were, to use the formers expression las
humbly as hedge fences" without
graceful line or beautiful feature in
their whole composition; and how rr',-
ty Agatha ever came to be their daush-
ter was "a sincomprehensiblc riddle as
how the magnificent cactus blossom
with its leaves of flame and heart of
scarlet fire, should ever spring from he
wrinkled old stick by courtesy called a
plant" But so nature manages her
affairs, and as yet we humans have not
beer able to improve upon her.
Mother and daughter were earnestly
talking together as the farmer entered,
aud he could just catch Agatha's last
words.
Il wouldn't, mother; l Wouldn't
Wouldn't whato What is it you're
talking abou,?' And Moses Jefferson
looked dques,ioningly from one face to the
other"
"Why," said Agatha looking up with
flushed cheek, "mother wants. TO sci!
! the old pile of newspapers th:t belong te
Uncle Philemon, up in the store closet
and it don't seem hardly right to me-
The farmers countenance grew grave
he shifted the bag of corn OH to chair
and shook his head.
"Agatha's right about it, he said.
wouldn't sell 'em if was you, Clarissy.
You don't know nothing about il
Moses Jefferson" said his wife, in q
sharp, high pitched tone. "Havin' thu
best closet in the house all hampered
up with mess of old newspapers! Why
there's thousand Of 'em l do b'lieve.
"No there amt, Clarissy-now your
exaggeratin'. Uncle Philemon has beer
savin' 'em up for ten years, and ther'
aint't over tifty-two weeks in q year a
ever heard on.'
"WeIl, there's more'n I want lumber
in around, any how. 1t is all folly ant
nonse use. AS long as the old gentle
man was able to go pokin' about witt
his knotted stick, countin' on 'em 'an
straightenin' the edges, and foldin
down the crumpled corners, didn'
dare touch 'em. But HOW he's bedrid
den and tligh,y, apd won't know nothil
about it, I'm bound to sell emf
"But, mother" pleaded Agath'
breathless and eager, suppose h
, should want them brought up to hi
bed side?
ooh, he won't and if be does we canpl
him off with some excuse or other, III
; venture, easy enough. kiah Darwin
widow says paper is four cents a pount
| md 7 calculated I could get new set