The Fremont weekly journal. [volume] (Fremont, Sandusky County, Ohio) 1867-1877, 1874-12-11

The lady seated herself at the head OF
the table, giving Betty an appreciative
smile as she took In, with one sweeping
glance, the exquisite neatness and order
(which prevailed on every side.
''Why, Betty" said she, with smile,
''what In the world is this? Pumpkin
pie for tea! That is an innovation. ."
''Well, now, Mrs. Harcourt, that pie
would come on the table anyhow.
tried two or three times to make it un-
derstand that 'tain't the proper thing to
do; but, you see, hain't baked but two
fact was, tomorrow being ThanksgiV-
ing, I felt unusual particular, and
Thought I'd lust like to have you all ex-
press your opinion about 'em, and then,
you see, 1 can bake the rest Of the stuff
Tomorrow in a jifyl"
''Betty desires an opinion expressed
about her pumpkin-pies, Belle, - laughed
Mrs. Harc0urt, asher daughters entered.
''Oh, Betty, I can eat a whole one my
Iself, replied Belle, STOPPING over the
|artistically Drowned affair, as if about to
prove her words by Immediately dispos-
ing Of it.
S'Why, Belle" exclaimed her sister
Grace, chow can you behave in such a
ihoydenish manner!"
S'Hoydenish, IS it, to admire this rich
golden brownl Hoydenish to have an
appetite? Mother, l never thought of it
before, but there is a certain poetic
charm about pumpkin-pies. The shade
and the shape-in short, the whole artis-
tic makeup, from the fence Of faky
crust to the yellow pulp which Betty un-
derstands so well to bring together, is an
exquisite piece of poetry. Help me,
mother, quicklyl Don't you see 1 am
starving2"
Mrs. Harcourt smiled at her daughter S
enthusiasm.
Grace silently slipped her tea, evident
" a good deal bored, and Just then pater
IfanniIias entered, and the bright tea-room
grew several shades brighter as he drew
up to the table.
Everybody loved Judge Harcourt, Just
as everybody respected his wife. No
two individuals could be more mike in
character than this pair, who had walked
harmoniously side by side for twenty-five
long years. Outside of their domestic
life there was hardly subject concern
ing which they cherished similar ideas.
Mrs. Harcourt was rigid Presbyte-
rian-tle Judge the broadest eelecti-
cism; and the strangest part of all was
that in this matter of ereeds they both
agreed to disagree so perfectly that there
never was the slightest pereeptible rip
ple on these two totally dissimilar theo-
logical surfaces.
ssWhere is William?" asked the Judge,
noticing the vacant place at his wife's
right hand.
''I'm sure I don't know, " replied Mrs.
Harcourt. 'sDidn't hear him talking
with you, Betty, short time ago?"
'TYes'm," answered Betty; "and l
guess he's over to the 'Squire's. At any
Irate, I saw him go down the road"
81 believe our VIII is bewitched, "
broke In Belle, poising a piece of pump
in-pie on her fork, and holding it OF a
way to admire.
dWhy, Belief said Grace, with lit
tie sludder.
This time Mrs. Harcourt echoed the
'EWhy Belle" which seemed TO afford
the young lady considerable amusement,
for, with a merry laugh she turned to
her father and said:
''Why don't you say, why Belief
father 1t only needed an exclamation
point from your lips to make my happi-
ness complete. 7"
"Why do you think your brother VIII
is bewitched?" asked her father, without
appearing to notice her last remark.
F'You know as well as do, pa. Hasn't
he spent half his vacation over to the
Seymours', and isn't the attraction there
that vain, deceitful, hard-hearted, braz
en-, idiotic-"
''Belle, stop right where you arei'
broke In her mother, the very picture OF
CONSERVATION.
s'Maude Flanders, finished Belle.
This time the Judge was almost as
much disconnected as his wife.
Belle had always been a plain-spoken
young lady, but for such a string Of op-
probious adjectives from his daughters
lips he was entirely unprepared.
''This is the second seige of Miss
Flanders for my brother VIII I'm in
clined to think she'll fetch him this
time, continued the vixen, entirely re
gardless Of the black looks cast upon
her. '"There IS more real genuine wo-
manhood In one drop of Elsie Gorham's
blood than there Is IN an ocean full OF
such stuff as runs through the veins of
that creature.
''Have you lost your senses, Belle
Hrcourt2 Are you really nsanei" said
Mrs. Harcourt, in unfeigned distress.
''That name, you know, is never to be-
mentioned Ii my presence, or by one OF
my family. Your dreadful words about
Miss Flanders are bad enough and Un-
lady-like enough, but your temerity, in
speaking of that abandoned girl IS un-i
bearable. %
The Judge was mute with surprise.
Never in her life had Belle so asserted
herself, and there wasn't the least sign
of fiinching as she answered;
'eNo, my dear mother, I am not IN
sane; but l am very much Disguised with
certain shams which an compelled toi
meet. every day of my life. l have
winked at them about long enough; now
I intend to defy them by speaking my
honest thought on every occasion.
Such a course viii make you very
popular young Lady, Belle" broke in her
sister, disdainfully.
To this harmless remark Belle vouch-
safed 10 answer.
The Judge asked in kindly manner,
with Just the least shadeof protest IN his
voice;
''You haven't heard anything recently