Iowa voter. [volume] (Knoxville, Iowa) 1867-1874, 1873-09-11
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 a
fresh new barber-pole as she leaned from
the window, her head bound up in a green
veil to protect it from the imaginary dust
If AN utterly superfluous sweeping, and
her straight form arrayed in the brightest
of striped prints. The hair under the
green veil was too faded for youth, and
over her face was network of lines, the
footprints of countless worries, that SPELL
ed ont 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
treadle 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 it was that to her; and the partic-
ular perverse little cog that seemed to be
out of order this morning was Master
Paul That young naturalist had, half
hour before, been trying to perch on the
chicken.roost as his iavorite bantam did,
and had endangered his bones and DAM
aged his brown linen suit by fall; but
now he was engaged in some mysterious
agricultural enterprise that quite baffied
Mrs. Martha's discernment. There had
been a deal of digging with her carefully
polished fireshovel, which she had not
discovered in time to prevent; she had
only witnessed the completion Of the
planting great stamping down of earth
with Paul's small feet around highly
colored, variegated, and altogether singu-
lar.looking cluster of foliage. But the
final ceremony of his appearing with
watering-pot, and plentifully sprinkling
both his plant and himself, so far aroused
her anxious curiosity as to draw her to
the scene of action.
1t needed no very near approach to as
tonish and horrify her. Her best feather
buster, kept sacredly for parlor use, was
buried handle downwards, only few
inches of the soft, brilliant tips remaining
above-ground, and they forlorn and drag.
gled from the refreshing shower bestowed
upon them.
paul Rivers, what on earth have you
been about now?"
Paul leaned back, with two small mud
dy hands thrust into his pockets, and sur
veyed his work with beaming satlsfac.
ton.
81 Impose I'll raithe thome birdth OF
paradithe," he explained.
Birds of destruction! and you're OF
them yourself! wish your father would
stop showing you pictures and telling you
stories of every flying beast and creeping
fowl, that's what i dor muttered Mrs
Martha, wrathfully. Here's my best
buster just ruined"
Don't you mind, Cousin Martha.
Inspect can pick enough featherth from
my birdth to make you a thouthand
dusthers," urged Paul, consolingly:
But Mrs. Martha would none OF such
comfort. She rooted up her brush with
indignant alacrity, and walked toward the
house with it, shaking out the sand and
Strengthening the dropping feathers by
the way. Paul followed her, remarking
rather despondently.
II don't thee how nobody can raitht
anything if they can't have nothing fol
theed."
"What is the trouble now, Paul?" ques
toned face from the vineshaded piazza
and a face looked out from under the
swaying tendrils-a manly face, bearded
and mustached, but with high brow and
deep, dark eyes SO like the child's that thu
relation was apparent. :,
Trouble? It's nothing but trouble al
day long with him!" responded Mrs
Martha. promptly entering upon rectal
of this last affliction. But her listeners
laugh was by no means soothing-how
could he appreciate the value OF buster
and the exceeding gentleness of his rebukt
to the little culprit, and the Obliging read
mess with which he began to explain
various processes of Embarrassing and tam
ing exhausted the good housewives las
atom Of patience.
"For PHYS sake, don't fill his head
with any more such stuff" she burst In
upon Paul's eager questioning. you'll
have him trying to build nest in the top.
OF the trees next, or butting his head OF
against the fence to see If he can't be {
wood-pecker. It's all very fine to tel
him such nonsense and call 1t natural his
tory, but it's another thing to have ths
bother of looking after him and keeping
him from breaking his neck with it, car
tell you'll"
You must be good boy, Paul. I sus
pect you are a great trial to Cousin Mar
tha," admonished Mr.. Rivers, shaking hi.
head at the child. but if she hadn'
you she would be equally distressed Ovel
something else. She couldn't be happy
unless she had something to be miserable
about" he added To himself as he turned
away and assembled the stairs-a smile
urking in his eyes and about his lips q!