The Elk County advocate. [volume] (Ridgway, Pa.) 1868-1883, 1873-02-27

asked Aunt Debbie, after she had ushered
her visitor into the sitting-room, rolled up
one green paper curtain, and settled down
to her knitting. Aunt Debbie could al
ways talk easier with her knitting-work
in hand.
Pretty well. thank you, except Su-
san. | came over partly to see you about
her. She don't seem to get along as l
should like to have her."
Miss Haskell was tellin' me, last Sun
day, how ailin' Susan's ben, this summer.
From what Miss Haskell said 1 should
think she's good deal as my Melissa was
five years ago. cured Melissa with bone
set."
"Susan's been taking that, more or less,
all summer"
''Does she cough anye'
"No."
"Because if she did, colt-foot tea is a
| grand thing. Amt she bilious ?''
| VI shouldn't wonder if she was"
"Well, now if she was my girl, should
give her good dose of blue pill to begin
with, and follow it out with a smart
course of castor lie or salts. | should
keep right on with the boneset three times
a day-'tis very strengthenin'-and I'd
have her take raw egg in half glass of
cider every mornin' before breakfast.
That's one of the best things l know of
for weakly folks. Is she narvous aboat
| sleepn' ?'
yes, she is, rather"
"There is nothin' 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 nothn'
like bein' horough,' 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 Aunt Deb
bie's prescriptions. What the conse-
quences would have been to poor Susan,
one shudders to think. Fortunately fate
kindly interposed in her behalf.
1t seems a clear case of one "born
in the woods to be scared at an owl"
that the old Whitaker horse should take
into his ancient head to be frightened
at moving machine. But such
was actually the fact. AS he was jogging
along, head down, apparently lost in
memories of his far-away youth, he came
suddenly upon Deacon Foskett's rattling,
gathering moving machine. Un 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 his unexpect-
ed 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 run down the hill to find Mrs.
Whitaker with one leg broken, sprained
shoulder, and any amount of bruises and
wrenchings.
What was to become of the Whitakers,
now that the main spoke of the domestic
wheel was useless? They hire a girl, of
course, suggests the intelligent reader.
But hiring girl in Tully was no such
trifling matter. A small factory in the
village ahsnrhed all the American girls of
the vicinity, who would otherwise have
worked in families. and there being no
Catholic church within 10 miles, the Irish
girl who could be induced to live on
farm was rara avis, indeed.
Mr.. Whitaker devoted week to driv-
ing over the hills in different directions
in pursuit of various myths of possible
girls that vanished into thin air on
closer inspection. Now Mr.. Haskell had
heard of very nice girl over in Benham,
Franklin Lester's wife's sister, whJ was
anxious to secure a place. By the time
Mr.. Whitaker had reached Benham the
nice girl had engaged to teach district
school. Arrived at home he found Mrs.
Goodman had sung to Susan the praises
of certain 'widow-woman" on Stony
Hill. Mr.. Whitaker HES him 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 dispirit-
ed, from his long drive, 4" believe if
wanted wife ! could get six easier than
| can one grill"
Don't try any more. father" said
Susan. "We can get along somehow.
| Ned and | can do the work -
That's soi' said Ned. "We'n make
bully team"
"Don't be so low, Ned" said Susan,
who had undertaken the somewhat dis
couraging task of "elevating" Ned. Boys
resent 'elevating," especially by their
own sisters, and accordingly Ned rather
exerted himself to be slangy in Susan's
| presence.
But now feeble wall was heard from
the bedroom where poor Mrs. Whitaker
lay, fevered and helpless, on her restless
couch.
"You must get girl, father" she re-
monstrated. ''Susan can't do the work.
1t will kill her. She isn't strong enough,
and besides she don't know how. Oh
dear. if could only get up and take hold
myself! | can't be recOnciled to lying
here when there's so much to do!''
TO soothe his wife, Mr.. Whitaker
promised to try once more, and finally
one night drove into the yard in triumph,
seated on a small, hair trunk, the owner
of the trunk, an actual "girl" in propria
persona, handbook in hand, sitting in state
on the seat behind him.
The new girls name was Luna, "pale
Luna" Ned called her. She was tall and
bony, wore her hair cut short in the neck,
and rejoiced in a bass voice that was per-
petual surprise to the family. Luna soon
developed ways, that, if not "dark" were
decidedly uncomfortable. Ned always
declined pie, after he once saw Luna, as
she cut each piece, drawing the knife,
blade through her mouth, to "cleanse''
it. No matter what she had previously
been doing, she stirred Mrs. Whitaker's
beef-tea with her finger without going
through the ceremony of washing her
hands, and tasted it freely with the same
spoon soon offered the invalid. She told
Susan she 'liked to make bread, it takes
the grind of your hands so NICE" I'm.
der her administration, the appetites OF
the Whitakers dwindled alarmingly. Su-
san, who saw the most of Luna's cookery
lived entirely on crackers.
When Mrs. Whitaker heard that Luna
prepared the potatoes for dinner in the
wash-hand basin, and put the best tea
knives soaking in the bottom of the par
while she did the other dishes, tea knives
whose glossy handles were Mrs. Whita
ker's pride, her indignation knew NJ
bounds.
81 won't have her in the house another
minute can't sleep till she is out o
| it! The idea My best tea-knives I'v,
been so particular never to damp thu
handles, and always kept them put away
| in hau utrar