The Columbia herald. [volume] (Columbia, Tenn.) 1850-1873, 1872-10-11
earn your SALT What did you say

your name was ?"
Mary Smith. And indeed IL you
try me for week, am sure you will
you'll keep me till the seasons over"
Mrs. Clements looked out of the
window at the great clouds that were
piling gloomily up; and then the
wind gave a great wailing shrek
around the corners of the house.
You can cook, can you? ? or shake
up feather beds-good big ones, forty
pounders."
A gleeful little laugh came from
Mary's little lips.
"Indeed 1 can. I may not cook to
suit you, but / can learn.n
Mrs. Clements walked out to the
huge open fireplace in the kitchen
where the deacon was shelling corn.
"What dye say, deacon; keep her
or not?g kind ollike her looks, and
the dear knows it 'ud be a good lift
while we're killin', il she couldn't do
more'ntet the table or make mush for
the breSk.n
''Take her of course, Hannah. You
are hard driv' know. Let her stop a
week or SO anyhew."
So Mrs. Clements came slowly back
and s1edown again.
"You can't get away tonight, any
how; there's snow-storm been brew
in these three days, and it's on us
now, sure enough. See them 'ere
flakes, fine and thick. You may as
well take your things up stairs to the
west garret, and then come down and
help me get supper"
Then followed directions to the west
garret; and when she had gone, Mrs.
Clements turned to the deacon: II
never saw a girl before I'd trust up
stairs alone. But such as her don't
steal !; can tell you that if nothing
else.u
Directly she came down in q purple
print dress and white apon her hair
brushed off from her face into a net |;
a narrow linen collar, fastened with a
sailors loop of narrow black ribbon.
1t seemed as if she had life, too, SO
handily she fitted in and out of the
big pantry and then down the cellar.
Then after the meal, she gathered the
dishes in neat, silent way, that was
perfect bliss to Mrs. Clements ears.
"She's determined to earn her bread,
anyhow; and like her turn too"
And the deacon had "taken shine"
to Mary Smith. One by one the days
wore on; the hog killing was over and
done; long strings of sausages hung in
fantastic rings, arranged:by Mary's deft
fingers; sweet hams and shoulders
were piled away in true housewifely
manner, and now Mary and Mrs.
Clements were sitting in the sunny
dining room, darning, patching, and
mending.
81 don't know what I am going to
do without you. Mary; dread to see
you pack up your clothes"
A blush of pleasure overspread
Mary's face.
II am SO glad you have been suited
with my work. Indeed, have tried"
''It amt the work altogether, though
goodness knows, you're the smartest
gal I've seen this many day.. AS 1
say, it amt the work-it's you, Mary.
Pve got to thinking heap of you-me
and the deacon"
Mary's voice trembled at the kind
ness of the old lady's tone, but she
sewed rapidly on.
at is so uncommon lonesome since
the boy left the farm; but it's worse
since he got married. 1t seems like
deserving us altogether"
"Haye you son? You never men,
toned him."
"No; George has gone his way and
we must go ours. Yes-he married
one of those crack headed boarding
school people, who can't tell the diff
ference between a rolling-pin and a
milk-pan."
But despite her scorn, Mrs. Clements
dashed off the tears with her brown
fist.
SIS his wife pretty? 1 suppose you
love her dearly"
"I don't know anything about her,
and never want to know. He's left us
for her, and us old folks will leave him
for her too. Mary, just turu them
cakes around; seems as if they're
burning"
When Mary had turned the cakes,
Mrs. Clements was leaning on the arm
of her chair.
"Mary, supposin' you stop on with
us another month yet, anyhow. The
deacon will make it all right"
at isn't the money l care for, Mrs.
Clements; I only wish 1 might stay
always. You don't know how much
L love yOu."
Glove us! do you? Bless your
heart. If poor George had only picked
you out, what a comfort it would be to
us all But it can't be helped now"
She sighed wearily, then glanced out
of the window, looked moment, and
then threw down her work.
"Bless my soul, if there amt our
son George coming up the lane! Dea-
can! deacon! George is coming!
And all her mOther-love rushing to
her heart, she hurried out to meet him.
Oh, the welcoming, the reproaches,
the caresses, the determination to love
him still, despite poor innocent little
Marion! Then when the table had
been set in the next room by Mary's
deft fingers, and she had returned to
her "west garrett" Mrs. Clements
opened her heart.
"There's no use talkin' George; this
fine, fancy lady o. yours III never suit
me. Give me smart girl like Mary
Smith, and I'll ask nc mere. Come
in 10 supper now. Mary, Mary"
She raised her voice to call the girl,
when a low voice near surprised her.
"Oh, you dressed up in honor o. my
boy. Well, / must confess 1 never
knew you had such handsome dress,
and YOU look like picture with your
net off, and them short, bobbin' curls
George, this is Mary Smith, my"-
George came through the door, and
glanced carelessly at the corner where
the young woman stood. Then, with
a cry, sprang with outstretched arms
to meet the little figure that sprang
into them. The deacon and Mrs.
Clements stood in speechless amaze
ment. Then Marion, all bushes and
fearful smiles, went over to the old
pair and shook their hands.
II am Georges wife. was so afraid
You would never love me, so l came
determined TO win you if / could.
Mother, father, may l be your daugh-
ter?n
And happier family, when they
had exhausted their powers of surprise.
amazement and pride in the beautiful
Marion, never gave thanks over a sup
per table.
Social Happiness
The Sun sends down his golden
smile; every star in the the heavens
beams or wrinkles with delight; all
nature is full of the songs of birds ;
the very flowers we weave into fragrant
boquets are arrsyed in gala robes OF
beauty and gsiety, and myriads OF
g. raan.o o.<l r;xvor. and r;v,,lofo cinO