New Orleans Republican. [volume] (New Orleans, La) 1867-1878, 1870-10-23
STRATAGEM IN LOVE.

and her fingers in her ears.
Il like to hear thunder well enough;
don't know but what do. am not atraiC
of that. But | be some scarf of the light
ming" said she, starting as the heavens
blaZed over with a sheet of flame in instant
glory, with a crash and roar that found
its way through her fat fingers and through
two wads of pink cotton, bursting on heI
ear like the trump of doom.
| "Mercv on met shrieked Mrs. WoodcOck,
'.that struck. Now you may rely upon it,
as true as you are living creature, that
struck -
Mr. Spoffords old sorrel horse. the only
living creature in sight, made no reply, but
| kept on nbbling away at the white clover
| on the green before the door. He only
turned his back to the driving rain, that
flew from west to east so fast. and so heavy
| that it was more like black fog than NOV
| ing drops of water; and gave a passing
| shiver when the rainfall changed to hail,
and ratified down in stones as large as birds
eggs.
But Mrs. Woodcock was above the blind
| trust of the beast; so. pale and trembling,
| she pressed her hands tighter over her ears.
and looked at q spiders web in the darkest
| corner of the room as steadtastly as if she
were sitting for her photograph.
The thunder growled itself to sleep at
last the Lightning flashed itself away, and
l 4
babvs face. Still the unconscious Mrs.
Woodcock held ON to her ears and gazed at
| the spiders web. until the door was flung
| open, and the chore-boy shutiled in. He
| was a hempen-haired buttermilk-eyed lad
| of fifteen. who was either halfwItted or
| alf-crazed-prObably both.
"Ho! Aunt Prissy," he cried "what are
| you keeping independence for the day after
| the fourth 1t has all come off as clear as
npy
sitting there like statue. You better be
| mending my pantaloons.'
| As he spoke, sudden sunbeam darted
through the western window, and flashed
athwart the corner.
IF there isn't a cobweb right in nv
kitchenr' quoth Mrs. Woodcock. deliber-
ately putting Gown her fingers and her feet,
! and going for 4 wing-a gray goose wing
that hung by strip of red calico on nail
| behind the door.
oh Iou come. Orson: Where did it
| strike ," she continued, appearing to dis
| cover the grinning boy.
The hail struck everywhere, particular
| ~ on DR. Seacrest's grape vines. | haven't
| heard Is the thunder struck at all, not even
| on some folks ears" returned Orson, who
| was mainly composed of pair Ofovergrown
| bare feet. blue cotton frock and overalls, a
set of broad white teeth, and weather
| beaten hat with wide slouchnG brim.
You don't mean to say the Doctors
grape vines are hurt essentially. do you9'
queried Mrs. Woodcock, deaf to the imper-
Thence rs she had been to the thunder.
Don't know nothing about no essences"
replied Orson, who was fond of long words
but not clear as to their use. But l can
tell you one thing, though. You ought just
to see the Doctors new grape winery he sets
SO much by. The tendons and young
grapes are fairly chewed to bits. Yes,
IN. | don't expect five hundred dollars in
gold would put it back to where 1t was an
hour ago
How you talk gasped Mrs. Woodcock,
who liked to have things happen, and the
worse they happened the better she liked
it. She was a kind hearted SOUL but some
thing to talk over was worth as much as
her dinner.
but Is it so,' she continued doubtfullv.
Really and truly. Orson" Now speak
the truth just exactly as it is.
Orson had as much idea of the truth as
he had of geology
Yes M" SAID he. getting bolder "The
doctor said to me, 'Orson Larely,' said he. l
wouldn't have this management done to
my vintOnage not if you had offered me a
five hundred dollar bill right in nv hand
And then he looked as sober as anything
and walked straight into the house. | saw
Mrs. Seacrest through the oriole window,
and she was crying like fury. You ought
to take look at it yourself Aunt Prissy. if
you don't believe me" he concluded. in an
aggrieved tone.
Mrs. Woodcock did not believe him en-
tirely, to be sure, but yet there might be
something worth seeing: so, after a little
rejecting, she decided it would be handy to
have dose of salts and SIENNA in the house,
and she might as well step up to the doc
tors and get it then as anv time.
Tt,o,.
for Mrs Woodcock's chocolate and white
calico, guiltless of panier and innocent of
trail did not even brush the broad plan
tain leaves and the fairy speedweI bios
SONS bordering the well-trodden footpath
that led from her door step straight into the
world. And her heavy calfskin shoes
squeaked to scorn the idea of "wetting
through
SO she tied on her log-cabin sun-bonnet
that had pert calico bow prospecting from
the top, took her crooked-handled green
glngham umbrella, to act the double part of
supporter AMI protector. and set out-not to
seek her fortune, but to seek somebody's
misfortune.
The way to DR.. Seacrests was across the
green, away from the black cotton mills
down by the river: away from the street of
stiff white cottages, where the mill opera
tors lived; away from the COMMONPLACE
two-story dwellings clustering around the
church, the store, the blacksmith's shop and
the postotfice. to bit of level slightly re-
moved from The Hollow" by slopinS hill.
Here were scattered a group of houses
where the doctor the mill-Owner the minis
ter and two or three prosperous farmers
lived. Lived, so the Hollow people said,
''stuck up and apart from their neighbors.
But this aristOcratic isolation was all the
work of the Hollow, for, as Mrs. Woodcock
often said. hk'OlkS can choose their Ou-,,
place in the world If they have mind to
hold up their heads and be something and
somebody, they can be, or they can be no.
body and nothing-either one
Accordingly she held up her head and
made herself somebody, equally in the
kitchen of Mary Duffy, the Irish laundress,
in Speck Lane. at the lowest dip of the Hol-
low, and in the parlOrs of the spacious man
sion that crowned the brow Of equality
Hill"
So now she went up the wide, flower
bordered walk leading to DR.. Seacrest's
stately doorway, with the assurance of
welcome guest, and, tapping confidently on
the open door, stepped in with little nod
anu courtesy, as much of respect to her
self as of Difference to Mrs. Seacrest and her
daughter Miriam, sitting sewing and looking
tranquil, as though no storm had ever
passed over either vineyard or spirit.
=, Dear me! Is it you, Mrs. Woodcock?
How you startled me! Come in. We were
speaking Of you not half an hour ago. cried
Mrs. Seacrest, who was a lively, cordial
woman, as round and flushed as poppy,
and always sitting in the sunshine. no mat
ter what clouds there might be in the skv.
Mrs. WOodcOck came in. "Quite a shower
we have had" said she, dropping upon a