Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1871-10-10
Selett Storp.
ALMOST LOST.

The more she thought of it The more
the purpose grew upon her. Pco-
pie would think she WAS crazy. per.
haps. and may be She was /; ran in the
family. some said
What does John care Tor me ?" she
cried under her breath. rinsing the little
red edged white apron up and down in
the clear water.
"lt's slave life. anyhow | wouldn't
have believed it before married To be
sure. there's baby" she TUNED aud look.
ed yea ningIy upon the wicker cradle.
over whose top WAS thrown quaint lace
veil. yellow with age. wrought long ago
by the fingers OF her great grandmother,
The lace underneath. dimpled, exquis-
ite in coloring, was beautiful enough to
have satisfied any mothers heart.
She's girl, she mul;ercd. Only
girl. and John dont .iNc girls. at least.
babies :" AMI her lips curIed again lie
can 20 over to Bessie Bright's though.
and stay by the hour.
The last frock was rin>cd aud wrung
out Hannah Wells stretched the line,
AMI pulled The knots with an angry jerk
He might at leas, have done this Tor
me. she said - she went moodily TO and
fro, What TO her WAS the glorious sun
shine, pouring its living gold over the
short thick grass in which her teet sank
so softly, as she pinned The snow. white
garments to the long lines. aSd then lit.
ed them with forked sticks into the upper
air where they Auticred. and were kissed
into dryuess and fragrance by the sun
and the wind
ITS miserable dogs life; that's what
it is. and I've mind to get rid of it al
together"
This was what she said. guing back
into the large, pleasant kitchen, and look
ing about her with a glance Of indiffer-
ence. Then she turned and went hur.
riedly up stairs, still with that vague, un-
decided look. In her room the sunshine
poured and the old familiar furniture
glistened on every side. The pretty,
light quilts she had made long ago, rest
ed on chairs; and all things bore IN i'm
preston of taste and cleanliness, though
the usual mornings work had been left
till now.
Hannah walked with pre- occupied
glance and hesilated footsteps, to the
bureau. and listlessly opening the draw.
ers, one after another, and as listlessly
shutting them again 1t was plainly TO
be seen tha. some great griet marked its
gloomy agony upon her face, 1t was no
ordinary suffering that had turned lips so
white. ard eyes so stony.
Presently Hannah came upon a little
box. and from that she took u small vial,
lingering it nervously, holding it up 20
the light. Her eyes kindled with
strange fire as she shook it and toyed
with it. and then let the sun shine thro'
its dull crimson.
Suddenly she stopped, and in the
strong light looked at herself in the
glass. A long, persistent, unhappy
glance it was. that took in every line, ev-
cry touch OF dcfaeing time, every sign Of
frost upon the rich, brown hair.
For Hannah had been beautiful. In all
the country round she had been noted for
her rare lOyelineSs. al Il that WAS only ten
years before.
"She need not have married \ poor
man." the village sossips said 'but on,
she was willful girl, and John Wells,
though he was dreamer. was as hand
some IS Hannah-but then it was pity,
you know" And so there was much