Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1873-05-22
NO. l21..
A NOVEL SPOILED.

The heroine was not beautiful, to begin
with, not queenly, not in any wise remark
able. She was just plump, winsome lit
tie maiden. and she stood at the garden
gate, that moonlit Sunday evening, with
an air the very reverse Of stateliness and
composurc, pulling leaves from the rose
bush near by with nervous, futtering fin
gers that did not even know when the
thorns pricked them. Outside the gate
was a tall figure, a face bronzed and
bearded, and low voice uttering words
half pleading, half resentful. There was
moments pause, then the voice ques-
toned, with a dash of bitterness -
"Shall go, Maggie ?r
''Just as you please, Mr.. Clifford :"
whereupon the questioner turned sudden
ly about and strobe rapidly down the
country road, crushing the glittering sand
under his feet, while Maggie sped into the
house, up to her room, and bolted her
door as if afraid of being pursued. She
peeped through window, from behind
the curtain, until the lonely pedestrians
on the quiet road had vanished from sight !;
then she assured herself that '.if Tom
choose to act so-so-she didn't care !"
and proved her utter indifference by bury
ing her face in her pillow with burst OF
sobs, and entire forgetfuncss Of the pan
sizes on her pretty hat e
They had quarrelled about nothing
at least she couldn't remember what it be-
gan with,-but of course it was all over
between them now, and he would 60
away as he had said. She wondered, as
she lay with her flushed, fearful face
turned toward the stars, how it would seem
to die that night, and go away from it ALL
Wouldn't somebody be sorry then? She
almost wished she could do it,-not quite,
because one don't like to stop in the mid
die of story, even, if it is ones own !;
| and, besides, what good would his re.
morse do her if she never could know any
thing about it:o
Tom, on his homeward walk. discourscd
furiously 70 himself upon the fickleness
and pervisity of all woman-kind. "Not
one of the whole race worth breaking
fellows heart for" he remarked savagely.
though with queer little quiver about his
lips the while. One thing was certain, he
would not stay moping there. The world
was wide, and there was nothing now to
hold him back. He would resign his place
in the village store, and join the party for
Arizona. Yes, he would take the first
morning traiu for the city and tell Golfer
he would go; there was fortunately time
enough for that yet, and if it left brief
space for preparation, so much the better
He should not wait for people to change
their opinion, he thought, fancying that
by ''people" he meant Miss Maggie, but,
in reality, fearing more a faltering of pur-
pose in a nearer party.
Let Sunday night be what ii may Monday
morning follows it all the same, Maggie
was glad it was Monday morning, since it
left her at liberty to sit with her sewing
in quiet corner by window, unques-
toned and undisturbed. while busy Aunt
Polly, who would allow no inexperienced
fingers to intermeddle in her washing, and
lame Aunt Becky. who would always STAY
where Polly was, were in the kitchen adj
joining. No ordinary kitchen was this,
stcaming, soapy, and disconsolate, but
large, pleasant, tidy room. where
Aunt Becky could enjoy her armchair
and her knitting together with Aunt
Polly's discourse. The latter lady
was unusually talkative on wash-day
Possibly being surrounded by tubs and
piles of linen suggested vaguely pulpit
or speakers stand, perhaps having ali Sun
day to think in, her opinions needed shak-
ing out and smoothing before they were
laid away ior the week. At any rate Miss
Polly had a way of doing up the world
and her washing together.
Most through, Polly?" questioned Miss
Becky, as she always did every half-hour.
Cant say that am," responded Miss
Polly with snap that shook out pair OF
wet hose and her words at the same time
mot unless view my washin' the same
way these new style poets do the robe OF
righteousness, and think a mighty little is
the whole ont. One clean stockin' is
enough 'cordin' to them. No matter how
much mud body has gone into, so he's
managed to keep one foot ont don't
believe no such"'
| why, of course; to be sure !" admit
ted Miss Becky, with mild indefiniteness.
Curious what kinds of folks this world
does hold anyhow pursued Miss Polly.
gazing meditatively into the depths OF her
tub. There S them that has health on the
brain, now-not that their brains is so par
lieular healthy neither. that know of; but
they are always talking about it. You
must do this, and you mustn't do t'other.
for fear you'll spoil your constitution and
all your bylaws Some of 'em says it is
sin to be sick" Pears to me, If that's
50, the slcker you get tne Wlckeder you
must be, and dyin' would seem filter to
send folks to the penitentsry than to
Heaven. 1t makes things look considers
bly, mixed"
There's the railroad snlash-ups, Polly.
suggested Miss Becky, alleviatingly.
.IIumph Well, l should think there
was But everybody can't expect to get
killed that way though the companies OF.
fer great inducements muttered Miss
Polly
Say, Aunt Polly. cant sail ships in
your tub ?" interposed small voice and
pair of blue eyes and u head of tangled
yellow curls appeared in the door way.
But Miss Polly was too busy to notice
even when the little navigator took silence
for consent, and plunged into her rinse
water with his treasures. In this general
straightening-up of her mental pantry, she
had just found another article to be label.
ed and put away. aaaealM
"!All sorts to make world! 1 should
think so There's them reformin' women
what go about lecturin' and wantin' laws
fixed. and men to give 'em their rights.
i GA saE ,kx, .i