Iowa voter. [volume] (Knoxville, Iowa) 1867-1874, 1873-08-14
AN ANTIQUE VASE.
BY MAMIE A. HEPwoRTH.

"MY dear it exceeds anything / ever
knew in the way of extravaganza. If Mr..
Rogers is allowed to do so, he will as
suredly lose his influence; it is so incon-
sistent, and minister should be especial
" careful of his reputation. l called at
Mrs Pratts on my way home, and when
I told her about it, she suggested writing
him an anonymous letter. You know
she's president of our sewing society, and
saws she won't make her eyes ache stitch
ing for any parson or his family while he
can afford to spend money like that! she
thinks he'd better hire seamstress why,
it will be the talk of the town! I've a
mind to see two or three of the ladies, just
to get their opinion about the matter"
and Mrs. John Lester paused for breath
while she handed her husband cup of
tea that looked most inviting served in
the delicate china which had been her
last Christmas gift.
The evening was warm. but through the
open windows came the fresh country air,
sweet with the fragrance of the clematis
that shaded the west end of the piazza.
Every surrounding of the supper-room
spoke Of ease and luxury. Mr.. Lester for
got the close business office; forgot the
dust and filth and noise of the city when
he drove into the little village where he
had made his summer residence. Hard
work had brought him fortune, and
when he married his partners handsome
and wealthy daughter, the world counted
him as one of the happiest of men. Yet
the worlds judgment is often wrong, and
well for some of us that its standard of
happiness lies beyond our reach, else we
might labor to catch the glittering bauble,
and after heart and hands and feet were
bruised and bleeding in the search, grasp
it but a moment, to find it only-gold.
John Lester was man in the highest
sense of the word. He held his influence
in the village, for he was generous of man
ner as well as means, and rich and poor
alike respected him. He who seeth not as
man seeth, who looketh not on the out
ward appearance, judged which was the
noble act--the donation Of thousand dol
lars toward the new church, or the hearty
"Good evening, Tony" which always
made the coachman's dark face Tighten
with smile. Tony had a sunstroke one
season. When the fever was raging, and
Eunice, his young muatto wife, could not
control the strong, excited frame, Mr..
Lester staid all night by the coachman's
bedside. Did Tony ever forget That?
Mrs Lester was an estimable lady. Her
husband loved her, for he was too honest a
man to have married for any other cause.
She, too, had a power among the village
folks, but it was the power which money
gains. She was courted and quoted; and
perhaps lame Teddy, the washerwoman' s
boy, gave the correct reason for it when he
questioned, mamma, isn't Mrs. Testers
teapot full Of pennies?"
Poor Teddy! On the top shelf of their
one closet stood a useless teapot, the re-
ceptacle of each occasional spare cent
The childs acme of happiness centered in
a chair which he could wheel himself
and his faith in the teapot increased with
every addition to its contents. 1t took a
long time to cover the bottom, and the
coins did not yet bel in to reach the hole
where the spout ought to have been
There was something most touching.in his
wanting the one five cent piece given
him by his old grandmother changed into
pennies, because they would 'help fill up
sooner. And Teddy lay back on the
lounge as the Lester barouche passed by
the tenement house, and wondered if il
would not seem just like Heaven to rest
against those soft cushions and look right
up into the blue sky instead Of getting a
peep of it through the small window, for
the poor boy spent many wearisome day
alone.
Mr.. Lester had been glancing over the
evening paper, and dropping it to take
his tea. became conscious that his wife
had been addressing him.
.'What is it, Edith? You are extrava-
giant, and everybody is saying So"
IL extravagant Mr.. Lester! and I've
only had two silks this summer! BY the
way, don't forget my check for two hun
dred in the morning; Pm going in to the
city. What was talking about! just
this! called at the parsonage this after.
noon; one of the ladies tries to go in every
day to look round trifie. Mrs. Rogers Is
young and needs advice, though she won't
always take it Why, she had her shades
drawn up to the top of the sash when Mrs.
Hill was there the other morning, and
when demonstrated with upon the plea
that sun would fade her new Brussels, &C
tually said she must have light, whether
carpets grew dingy or not; and, my dear,
the shades have been up exactly the same
every day since. Very good sense you