Delaware gazette. [volume] (Delaware, Ohio) 1855-1886, 1870-11-11
AeATHA's FORTUNE.
a STORY OF OLD NEWSPAPERS.


A STORY OF OLD NEWSPAPERS.
The yellow November sunshine was
doing its best to brighten the old farm
house kitchen; the yellow leaves,
blotched and stained with scarlet
which had eddied down at the touch of
many ftful wind and midnight frost
from the big maple-tree by the door
stone, lay in pools of shaded gold, stir
red by every gust, and the gnarled
winter apple-tree by the well had long
since been rifed of its weight of Grim
SON. streaked fruit.
81 do believe the apple crop is the
best we've had this ten year, " said Mo-
ses Jefferson, as he strobe into the
kitchen with bag of seed-corn over
his shoulder.
Mrs. Jefferson, a spare, Wiry-looking
woman, as different as possible from
her burly, beaming husband, sat at the
whitley secured pine table, shelling
beans vigorously into pan. Agatha,
the only child, was close to the win
dow, her pretty profile outlined against
the blue cameo of the sky, intent1y
busted in the unromantic but useful
occupation of setting a thrifty patch
on the elbow of her fathers brown
cloth coat, with quick, agile fingers,
and needle that glanced in an out like
a flying shaft of silver.
She was pretty girl, with soft hazel
eyes, abundant brown hair, coi1ed pic
turesquely round her head, and com
plexiOn which, albeit somewhat touch
ed 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,
"as humly as hedge fences,' without
a graceful line or a beautiful feature in
their whole composition; and how
pretty Agatha ever came to be their
daughter was as incomprehensible a
riddle as it is how The magnificent
cactus blossom, with its leaves Of flame
and heart of scarlet fire, should ever
spring from the wrinkled old stick by
ture manages her affairs, and as yet we
humans have not been aoIe tOimprove
upon her.
Mother and daughter were earnestly
talking together as the farmer entered,
and he could just catch Agatha's last
words:
''I wouldn't, mother; wouldn't"
''Wouldn't gghat? What is it you're
talkin' about ?'' And Moses Jefferson
looked questioningly from one face to
the other.
why" said Agatha, looking up
with flushed cheek, ''mother wants
to sell the cid piles of newspapers that
belong to 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 seed-corn
on to a char, and shook his head.
'fAgatha's right about it." he said.
''I wouldn't sell 'em if I was you,
Clarissy."
'sYou don't know nothin' about it, Mo
ses Jefferson" )" said his wife, in a sharp
high pitched tone. Having the best
closet in the house all hampered up
with mess of old newspapers Why,
= q A6nr7car76 81
one, do b'lieve."
"No there amt CIarissy-now YOU'RE
exaggeratin'. Uncle Philemon has
been savin' 'em up for ten year, and
there amt over ffty-two weeks in a
year, as ever heerd on"
''WeIl, there's more'n I want lum-
berin' around, any how. 1t is all folly
and nonsense. As long as the old man
was able to go pOkin' about with his
knotted stick, countin' on 'em, and
straightenin' the edges, and foldin'
down the crumpled corners, didn't
ridden and highty, and won't know
nothin' about it, I'm bound to sell 'eml"
"Rut, mother" pleaded Agatha,
breathless and eager, suppose he were
10 want them brought up to his bed
side?"
ooh, he won't and if he does we can
put him off with some excuse or other,
III venture easy enough. Kiah Dar-
wins widow says paper is four cents a
pound, and 1 calculated l could get a
new set o. milk pans with the money.
Besides, Agatha wants the closet to
keep her clothes in, now that she's
home from the factory for good"
81 can get along without it just as
we'll, mother" said Agatha; 'and it
does seem wrong to go and sell all of
poor old Uncle Philemon's papers when
he is too i'll to know of it,
l.
tongue, said Mrs. Jefferson, shortly,
and with unmistaka able emphasis. "I've
made up my mind to sell 'em-and sell
'em I Will, if you and your father kept
on talkin' until the day of judgment !
Miss Darwin says there's a man comes
round with a sort o. hand-barrow, and
string O. jingliu' bells, once in a
while, and gives four cents pound for
old newspapers. So, if ye any of you
see him, stop him."
And Mrs. Jefferson having said her
say, f1ounced out of the room to see if
her pickles were nearly sealded. Hon
| est Moses, whistling melancholy
| psalm tune under his breath, uncon-
sciously thereby producing the effect
of high wind groaning down lugu-
brious chimney, went up to the garret
with his bag of seed-corn, there to de-
pOsit it with other agricultural treas
ures, and Agatha put on her little blue
| frilled sun-bonnet and gray shawl, and
] tripped across the russet fields, to tell
j Hugh Darwin, her sweetheart, how very
/ shabbily 'mOther was going to treat
Door old Uncle Philemon. ;" For troubles
/ ceased to be troubles when Agatha had
whispered them into the sympathetic
ear Of her true love.
Now Hugh Darwin and Agatha JEFF
ferson had been engaged for three
years, and were likely to be engaged
thirteen more; for they were both poor
hard working young people, without
five dollars ahead in the world, and
nothing to look to but their own skill
ful right hands and cheerful, hopeful
hearts. For even the truest Of true
lovers can't afford to be married unless
they have a roof over their heads, and
daily bread to eat, to say nothing of q
possible chance of the attendant butter
But, in spite of all this, they derive in
finite consolation from long twilight
walks, and snug hreside gossips, and
confidential talks over their respective
wIcket-gates, and looked forward with
patient hope to the far off ''some day
that was finally to crown their happi
ness.
Hugh listened to Agatha's story il
silence; he was sorting apples in heaps
on the barn floor, and when she haC
concluded he brought down his CLOSED
hand on the biggest bin with an energy
that would have abraded any less hor
ny cuticle.
ffTt's n shame ~ vvas borest HugI,1,