Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1873-06-27

pulously neat and exact housekeeper, who
loved hard work for its own sake, and
"didn't want any one bothering round"
At one time Sue had quite mania for
cooking, but Mrs. Whitaker, after witness
ing her awkward Struggles with the bread
dough, said: "Come, let me take 1t. It's
easier for me to do it myself than see you.
If you'll keep the sitting room in order,
and take care of your own room, it's all
I'll ask"
And now Mrs. Whitaker thought Susan
so delicate she relieved her of even these
light duties, but left her with nothing to do
but realize, in her own experience, the
truth of the saying:
II they have thing else to grind they must them
| selves be ground"
September came, and yet Susan remain
ed in state of discouraging about-the-
samoness. Mrs. Whitaker thought she
would drive over and consult Aunt Deb
bic Dunbar.
Aunt Debbie was a woman of vast expe-
rience in sickness. She had brought a
large family of her own successfully through
all the mumps and measles, and other ills
infant flesh Is heir to, and was now exper-
imenting on a yearly increasing circle of
grandchildren, besides acting as adviser
general for the whole neighborhood. What
Aunt Debbe didn't know about doctoring
was generally considered not worth know
ing at all.
AS Mrs. Whitaker drove up she deserted
Aunt Debbie's ample form out in the gar
den, bending over the sage bed. At the
sound of wheels, she Strengthened up,
pushed her sun bonnet back and peered
sharply through her spectacles to see who
was going by.
"Well, l never y she exclaimed, as Mrs.
Whitaker drove into the yard. "If it amt
you, Mrs. Whitaker! | was jest thinkin'
about you. How dew ye do? Seems as if
/ hadn't seen you for an age. Cum right
along in, and Kiah'll put up your horse"
"Thank you, but I've only come for a
call 4; cannot stop long"
"Well, how dye all do at home ?" ask ed
Aunt Debbie, after she had ushered her
visitor into the sitting room, rolled up her
green paper curtain, and settled down with
| Hcl hilt iiHE Woih III htI
"Pretty well, thank you, except Susan.
1 came over partly 10 see you about her.
She don't seem to be getting along as
should like to see her,
Miss Haskell was tellin' me- last Sunday,
how ailin Susan's ben all summer, and
from what she said 1 should think she's a
good deal as my Hepsy was five years ago.
/ cured her with boneset."
"Susan's been taking that, more or less,
all summer
''Does she cough any?"
| "No."
"Because, if she did, colt-foot tea is a
grand thing. Amt she bilious?'
II shouldn't wonder If she was" :
"Well, now if she was my girl I'd give
her g ood dose of blue pill to begin with,
and follow it out with smart course of
| castor oil or salts. l should keep right on
the boneset three times a day-'tis very
strengthenn'-and I'd have her take raw
| egg in half glass of cider every morning
| before break fast. That's one of the best
things know of for weakly folks. Is she
nervous about sleepn'?'
"Yes, she is, rather"
"Tbere is nothing so good for narvous-
ness as hop tea. Give her some every
night, the last thing before she goes to bed,
and make her hop pillow. guess if you
| follow her up thoroughly you'll bring her
out all right. There's nothin' like bein'
tho rough" said Aunt Debbie, with the
emphatic air of long experience.
After much further advice, Mrs. Whita-
ker set out for home, burning with zeal TO
"follow up" Susan with all of Aunt Deb
| bie's prescriptions. What the consequence
wo uld have been 10 poor Susan, one shud-
deis to think. Fortunately, fate kindly
interposed in her behalf.
1t seems "A clear case of one "born in the
woods 10 be scared at an OWL" that the old
| Whitaker horse should take ii into his an
| cient head to be frightened at moving
| machine. But such was actually the fact.
| AS he was jogging along. head down, ap-
parently lost in memories of his far away
| youth, he came suddenly upon Deacon
Fosketrs rattling, Gathering moving ma
| chine. Up went his head, one snort, one
jump sideways, and away he plunged down
the hill, twitching the reins from Mrs.
Whitaker's hand by the suddenness of this
unexpected start. A big rut at the foot of
the hill-over goes the wagon on top of
Mrs. Whitaker-and Deacon Foskett and
his hired man ran down the hill to find
Mrs. Whitaker with one leg broken, a
spraned shoulder, and any amount of
bruises and wrenchings.
What was to become of the Whtakers
now that the main spoke in the domestic
wheel was usel SIS? They hire a girl of
| course, suggests the intelligent reader
But hiring girl in Tully was no such lri-
fling matter. A small factory in the viii
lago absorbed all the American girls of the
vicinity, who would otherwise have work.
cd in families, and there being no Catholic
church within 10 miles, the Irish girl who
could be induced to live on farm was a
rdrd dUis, indeed.
Mr.. Whitaker devoted week to driving
around in different directions In pursuit of
various myths of possible girls that van
ished into thin air on closer inspection.
Now Mrs. Haskell had heard of very
nice girl over in Benham, Franklin Les
ter's wiles sister, who was anxious to Sc
cure place. BY the time Mr.. Whitaker
had reached Benham the nice girl had en-
gagged to teach a school. Arriving home he
found Florence Goodman had sung the
praises of certain "widow woman" on
Stony Hill. So away he hies to Stony Hill
to find the widow gone to keep house for
her brother.
81 declare" said Mr.. Whitaker to Su-
san, as he returned girlless and displrited,
| from his long drive, 81 believe if want
ed wife could get six easier than can
get one girl''