The Shasta courier., 1870-04-16
SH ASIA COURIER.
Mrs. Thompson's White Ware.
From the Argosy.

etS - 3OV2'
Mrs. Thompson stood by the kitchen table
pairing potatoes for dinner Something was
evidently wrong with the little lady, for there
was an unmistakable air If spite" in the
way she tossed the potatoes into the pan Of
cool spring water waiting there to receive
them. 1t was sultrv weather, and through
the open window came the sound of NOW.
ers whetting their scythes. blended with the
call of the robin, and the faint notes of the
cuck 90 in the shaded wood. But it only ir-
ritated Mrs. Thompson-indeed everything
irrtated her that day. Looking out from
the back door, might be seen lovely land
scape with broad reaches of meadow-land,
fringed with graceful belts of birch; and softly
heads to the white feecy clouds, that went
slowly sailing across the exquisite ether, fike
huge drifts of thistle down. But this also
irrtated her; everything could be beautiful
save her life, and that was cold, rude, and
barren. At least, Mrs. Thompson, in the
plentitude of her present unsatisfactory
mood. was telling herself that it was.
To begin at the beginning. Jane Law
renee bad been an unusually romantic girl,
and had gone for two years to q boarding
school. She bad always fancied she would
marry some famous artist or scholar, who
would take her TO Rome, and Venice, where
she ight live in perpetual dream of beauty.
She so loved beautiful things Perhaps all
women do; and that may be the reason so
many are found ready to barter love for
gold.
But, contrary to Mi her preconceived no.
tions, she married Robert Thompson, a plain,
& :.
in Italy. she went to live at the old home.
stead, which had been the abode of the
Thompsons for generations. Dreams and
reality are so very different, you see.
Robert Thompson was a working farmer
as well as practical man. and all his peo-
pie worked. His mother had worked in her
day. his sisters had worked, he expected his
wife to work. She took to it gleefully she
had not been brought up with high notions
by any means; and at first the work did not
seem much. But every experienced lady
knows how the labor seems to accumulate in
a plain farmers household as the years after
marriage 90 on. There were plenty of men
and boys about. but only one woman servant
was kept; and Mrs. Robert Thompson grew
to find she helped at nearly everything
save perhaps the toughest of the labor In
place of loungng in elegant foreign studios,
or gliding down famed canals and streams
in picturesque gondolos she had butter and
cheese TO make. and poultry to rear, and
dinners to cook in the long, low -ceied
kitchen, aud the thousand and one cares
upon her shoulders that make up a busy
household Quite con lst as must be ad
mitted
With things little different, she'd not
have minded the work so much could she
have had nice carpets and tasteful furniture.
and books, and picture or two, and flowers
The home was so very hard aud practical,
and its surroundings were getting so shabby
At first she had not noticed this, or cared
for it but every year. as the years went on,
made matters look dingier. Old Mrs. Thomp
son had not cared to be smart and nice; Rob
ert never thought about it. And what though
he had Pit is only natural for men to as.
sumo that what had dine for mother would
do for wife, In time Mrs. Robert Thomp-
son began to ask that some renovation should
take place at which Robert only stared
the house that had done without painting so
long could do yet and the old things in it
were good enough for them. She did not
venture to urge the point, but she did press
for some flowers. There was strip of ground
under the parlor windows where a shrub of
sweet-brier grew, and pinks, sweet-willams,
and marigolds blossomed in their season.
But they were old d-fashioned, common flowers;
and she pined for rare an elegant plants she
had seen in Conservatives and public gar.
dens. But Robert Thompson would as soon
have thought of buying the moon, as such
useless things as flowers. The garden, like
himself, was all practical, filed with cabba-
ges, onions, and sweet herbs. And so went
on her unlovely existence /; in which dissatis-
faction was becoming very nightmare.
Now and again, on those somewhat rare oc-
casiuns when she went ont to visit her neigh
bors, and saw how pretty many of them h ID
things, she came home more than ever out of
heart. The worst was Tor the best) there
was no real reason why little money should
not be spent in making the home prettier
and happier, for Robert Thompson was doing
well, and putting fairly by. But under
standing had not come into the man and
his wife was too meek, perhaps too constitu-
tionally timd to make trouble over it,
The matter to day-which had put her so
very much out-was this. A sewing club
had recently been established in the neigh
borhood. There was much distress amidst
the poor laborers' wives and families. aud
some ladies with time on their hands set up
q sewing club, to make few clothes for the
nearly naked children. The farmers wives
had joined it; Mrs. Thompson amidst others;
they met at stated intervals. taking the
different houses in rotation dining at home
at twelve, assembling at one O'Clock. and
working steadily for several hours. 1t was
surprising how much work got done how
many little peticoats and frocks were made
IN the long afternoons. To less than a month
it would be Mrs. Thompson's turn to receive
the company-for the first time-and she
naturally began to consider ways and means.
For they met for an entertainment as we'll
as Tor sewing; tea in the afternoon, grand
meal later when the stitching was over.
what was Mrs. Thompson to do? Their
STOCK OF plates and dishes consisted of few
odds and ends of cracked delf, that had once
been kind of mulberry color She had
long wanted some new white ware; she
wanted 1t more than ever now. Grover, the
keeper of the village crockery shop, had