Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1871-01-26
Gales aud Sketehes.
MRS. THOMPSOy's WHITE WARE.

thing was evidently wrong with the little
lady, for their was an unmistakable air of
"spite" in the way she tossed the pota-
toes in the pan of cool spring water, wait
ing there to receive them. 1t was sultry
weather; and through the open window
came the sound of mowers whetting their
scythes, blended with the call of the robin,
and the faint notes of the cuckoo in the
shaded wood. But it only irritated Mrs.
Thompson; indeed everything irrritated
her that day Looking out from the back
door, might be seen lovely landscape,
with broad reaches of meadow land, firing
ed with graceful belts of birch and softly
rounded mountains lifting their velvety
foreheads to the white fleecy clouds, that
went slowly sailing across the exquisite
ether, like huge drifts of thistle-down.
But this also irritated her; everything
coulA be beautiful save her life, and that
was cold. and rude, and barren. At least,
Mrs. Thompson, in the plenitude of her
present unsatisfactory mood, was telling
herself that it was.
To begin at the beginning, Jane Law
renee had been an unusually romantic
girl. and had gone for two years to a
boarding school. She had always fancied
she would marry some famous artist or
scholar, who would take her to Rome and
Venice, where she might live in a per-
petual 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 leve for gold.
| But, contrary to all her preconcieved
notions, she married Robert Thompson, a
plain, practical farmer; and instead of
touring in Italy, she went to live at the
abode of the Thompsons for generations.
Dreams and reality are so very different,
you see.
Robert Thompson was working farm
er as we'll as practical man, and all his
people worked. His mother had worked
in her day, his sisters had worked, he ex-
pected his wife to work. She took to it
gleefully; she had not beeen brought up
with high notions, by any means; and at
first the work did not seem SO much.
But every experienced lady knows how
the labor seems to accumulate in plain
| farmers household as years after, marriage
go 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 every
thing, save perhaps the very roughest of
the labor In place OF lounging in ele-
giant foreign studios, or gliding down
famed canals and streams in picturesque
gondolas, she had butter and cheese to
make, and poultry to rear, and dinners to
cook in the long, low-ceiled kitchen, and
the thousand and one cares upon her
shoulders that make up busy household.
Quite contrast, it must be admitted.
With things a little different she'd not
have minded the work so much; could
she have had nice carpets and tastful
furniture, and books, and picture or two,
and flowers. The home was so very hard
and 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 rolled on, made matters
look dingier. Old Mrs. Thompson had
not cared to be smart and nice; Robert
never thought about it. And what though
he had? 1t is only natural for men to as
sumo that what had done for a mother
would do for wife.
The matter to-day, which had put her
so very much out, was this A sewing
club had recently been established in the
neighborhood. There was much distress
among the poor laborers' wives and fami-
lies, and some ladies, with time on their
hands, set up sewing-club, to make
few clothes for the nearly naked children.
The farmers wives had joined it-Mrs.
Thompson among others. They met at
stated intervals. taking the different houses
in rotation; dining at home at twelve, as
sembling at one o'clock and working
steadily for several hours. 1t was sur
prising how much work got done; how
many little petticoats and frocks were
made in the long afternoons. In lesss
than n month it would be Mrs Thomp-
sons turn to receive the company-for the
first time-and she naturally began to con-
slider the ways and means. For they met
for an entertainment as well as for sew
ing; tea in the afternoon; grand meal
later, when the sticking was over.
What was Mrs. Thompson to doa Their
stock of plates and dishes consisted of a
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 it more than ever now
Grover, the keeper of the village crock
cry shop, had lovely set for sale-white,
with delicate sprig of conyolvuli and
fuchsias looking every bit as good as real
china. Mrs. Thompson had set her heart
on the set, and that morning had broached
the subject to her husband
whats the matter with the old ones?"
he asked.
Look at them," she answered. They
are frightfully old and shabby"
Il dare say the food will taste as well
of them as off Growers set of white
ware"
"But there is not half enough. We
have as good as none LETT
Mother had some best china. Where
is it2
That's nearly all gone. We couldn't
put the two on the table together"
why not'"
"Oh, Robert, look at this. 1t is the
shabbiest old lot ever SEEN"
"'Twas good enough for mother"
Mrs. Robert Thompson disdained to
make comment.
You'd not have thought of this but foi
the sewing circle having to come here. il
they can't come and eat from such dishes
as we've got, they are welcome to stay
away"
There were tears in Mrs. Thompson's
eyes, but she crowded them bravely back