Mineral Point tribune. (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1869-1938, 1873-09-04
Miscellany.
OLD As THE HILLS.
BY KATE W. HAMILTON.

By KATE w. HAMILTON.
ONLY the story in general; Mrs Martha
was not so ancient, neither was she very
Young, though she did remind one of Il
fresh new barber-pole as she leaned from
tac window, her head bound up in green
veil to protect it from the imaginary dust
Of an utterly supertluous sweeping, and
hcT straight form arrayed in the brightest
81 striped prints The hair under the
green veil was too faded for youth, and
over her face was a network of lines, the
footprints of countless worries, that spell
cl out her name of Martha as plainly as
letters could have done The whole world
Of human affairs was great machine TO
her She fancied that her foot upon the
trcadle was all that kept it running, and a
single false movement or slip of her toes
would send everything back to chaos
Such a responsibility of poking up, oil
ing, screwing, and experimenting was
enough to tattoo any face with care
marks
The small kitchen Of the cottage did
not look altogether like the center of the
universe, but that mattered nothing so
long as ii was that to her; and the partic-
ullr peryerse little cog that seemed to be
ont of order this morning was Master
hour before, been trying to perch on the
chickcn.roost rs his tavorite bantam did,
and had endangered his bones and dam
aged his brown linen suit by a fall; but
NOW he was engaged in some mysterious
agricultural enterprise that quite battled
Mrs. Martha's diScernment. There had
been deal of digging with her carefully
polished fire-shovel which she had not
discovered in time 10 prevent; she had
only witnessed the completion of the
p!dnting-a great stamping down of earth
with Pauls small feet around a highly
c5lorcd, yariegated and altogether singu-
lriooIling cluster of foliage. But the
final ceremony Of his appearing with a
watcring-pot, and plentitully sprinkling
both his plant and himself, SO far aroused
her anxious curiosity as to draw her TO
the scene of action.
II needed no very near approach to as
tanish and hnirity her. Her best feather
duster kept sacredly for parlor use, was
buried handle downwards only few
inches Of the soft, brilliant tips remaining
above ground, and they torIorn and drag
glcd from the refreshing shower bestowed
wnon them.
Paul Rivers, what on earth have you
ls.tn about noWy'
Paul leaned back, with two small mud
dy hands thrust into his pockets, and sur
yeyed his work with heaming satlStac
ton.
Il thposc IN raithe thome bi,dth OF
paradithe," he explained.
Birds of destruction, and you're o
them YOURSELF | wish your father would
stop showing you pictures and telling yOt
stories of every flying beast and creeping
10 NJ,
Martha, wrathfullv. Heres my bes
,luStcr Just ruined. p"
Don't YOU mind, Cousin Martha
Inspect can pick enough featherth from
my birdth to make you' a thouthant
dusthcrS." /" urged Paul, consolingly:
But Mrs Martha would none of sucl
comfort She rooted up her brush witt
indignant alacrity, and walked toward tn
house with it, shaking out the sand ant
Strengthening the dropping feathers y.
the way. Paul followed her, remarkins
rather despondently.
Il don't thee how nobody can raith
anything if they can't have nothing 70
heed"
v(ghat is the trouble nov, Paul ;" ques
toned a face from the Vine-Shadtd piazza
and a face looked out from under tn
sWaying tendrils-a manly face, bearde,
and mustached, but with high brow an
deep, dark eyes so like the child's that tn
relation was apparent.
Trouble? its nothing but trouble a
day long with him!" responded Mr.
Martha, promptly entering upon reclta
Of this last atfiiction But her listener
laugh was by no means soothing-hoN
could he appreciate the value ef duster
and the exceeding gentleness of his rebuk
10 the little culprit, and the obliging read
lness with which he began 10 explai
various processes of bird-raising and tam
lng exhausted the good housewives Ia:
atom Of patience.
For PHYS sake, don't fill his hea