The true northerner., 1873-01-03
BETSY PATRIDGE,S NEW YEARS


Likely as not" said Betsy, as she
surveyed herself from top to toe, as well
as she could in the little foot.square
mirror; surrounded by tarnished gilt
frame, the design of which might have
been of Mayhower date" likely as
not, there is somebody here to-day ~
s Taking into consideration that Betsy
had uttered this same pleasant little
remark to herself for the last ten years,
and that she lived in the heart of the
country, good four miles from the
nearest neighbor's, and that during
said decade not soul had crossed her
threshold on the first Of January, the
most of us would undoubtedly make up
our minds that Betsy was not only try.
ing TO keep up the delusion, we'll awar /,
by this time that nothing would come
Of it.
Not so. When Betsy said, " Likely
as not, she meant every word of it !;
but had you asked the dear soul whom
she expected, scarcely know what she
would have answered.
Betsy was thirty.fve years old, and
never had married; consequently, ac.
cordlng TO ancient and modern par
lance, she was Enthusiastically an old
maid.
Some women could not have endured
this lonely country.life; but this very
home and surroundings had been hers
ever since babyhood; and, for fifteen
long years, Betsy had been sole proprie.
tress of the estate and establishment
her parents having died that length Of
time ago, and within six months Of each
other.
To be sure, she had not always been
thus desolate, for Betsy had had a
brother and sister whom she loved
dearly-and, once on time, she had
had lover; but something happened,
no one knew what, and the engagement
Was broken Oft. Betsy's sister married,
and went into the wilds of the West
and her brother was lost at sea-at least,
she believed him lost, as noaidings had
reached her for years. SO Betsy was
all alone in the world. Still, Betsy had
a family; and this family consisted of
a dog, cat, poll parrot, a hun.
dred or more hens and chickens, and a
COW.
This last animal the little woman
milked with her own hands, and with
the cream which she made into butter.
and the eggs which she sold to folks in
the village, bought all the clothes she
wore.
wish ] could give an idea of Betsy's
personal appearance. She was not one
of your angular old maids, with a sharp
nose, sharp elbows, and sharp voice.
She was short, and plump, and fair, and
her voice was as full of melody and
pathos as the quiver of an Eolian harp.
Her hair was brown, and rippled back
from her face in truly artistic man.
ner; and then the three tiny curs at
the back of her ears, although, perhaps,
trtle old maidish, were, nevertheless,
immensely becoming. To crown all,
Betsy had two of the loveliest dimples
ones eyes ever rested upon, making de-
hghttul little indentations in each cheek
when she laughed and then her hands
were plump. shapely and white, as the
most fastidious could desire, notwith-
standing the hard work which Betsy did
almost every day of her life.
Your back hair isn't as thick as it
used to be, Betsy Partridge she con.
tAhuCHt nPO9tiOIhlLIuB nerben III lHe
little mirror. And if you won't tell
anybody, found two or three struggling
gray hairs-whicn have no business in
your head at your time of life. But
never mind, Betsy, this is the first of
January, and there should be no growl.
ing TO. day"
So saying, she smoothed back once
more the glossy hair; tied ruff d
white apron over the plain brown meri-
no tucked little blue bow to the neck
of her dress, and proceeded to the
kitchen. Here, everything was in APP
ple-pie order.
A rag-carpet, into which a preponder.
ance OF gay colors were woven, covered
the floor a cooking stove, polished to
the last degree of glossiness, stood on
the hearth. From the oven, which was
just ajar, issued the savory odor of fowls
roasting. At the side of the stove, on
wooden rug, reclined a large gray cat
right in front dozed Brutus, an animal
Of the canine species Of Newfoundland