The true northerner. [volume] (Paw Paw, Mich.) 1855-1920, 1875-11-26


and well favored contests of the pastry.
81 wanted her to send some of her cook
cry to the county fair-you know they
offered premiums for the best bread and
pies-but she wouldn't"
"Why nota" queried Ben, earnestly.
eff you hadn't wanted to go, could a.
taken 'em along jest as well as not.
They might a had as good luck as my
Berkshires did. You know got the
premium for 'em9" to Susy.
Eyes, yes.
1t was Father Harris who answered.
and as he spoke he rose rather hurriedly
from the table, anxious to remove the
guests for time from under Susy's crit
ical eyes, while he trusted to his own wit
and shrewdness to lead the conversation
into some more edifying and congenial
channel by the time that she would be
ready to join it again.
The table was cleared and everything
III its place only too soou, and Susy re-
moved, with sigh, her wide check
apron, and with slow and reluctant steps
sought the parlor where her visitors were
seated in solitary state, for her father
had been obliged to absent himself for
an hour to attend to some of his farm
duties, and the mother and son had nee
essarily been left to find what entertain
ment they could in each others society
not very lively entertainment, Susy
thought, as, on entering the room, she
caught sight of the old lady fast asleep
in the easy chair, while her hopeful son,
evidently exhausted with his trencher
duties, lay sprawled out upon the sofa,
his clumsy heels in the air, and his well
creased head resting upon the pretty
embroidered sofa pillow that she had
spent so many precious hours in fashion
ing.
"The boor1' she thought, with a
glance of intense disgust at the recum-
bent figure, asleep, as she supposed, but
as she passed he gave her dress a sud
den pull, and as she paused with look
of angry establishment in her eyes, he
whispered, with a significant nod in the
direction of his sleeping parent:
Set down, jest minute, Susy. L
want to tell you something-clos't up,
so't ma am won't hear what say"
Susy gave her dress an angry jerk,
and seating herself beyond the reach of
his arm, she said, with freshness that
would have silenced more observant
and less conceited lover
eff you have anything to say, you
have no occasion to whisper it. / don't
imagine your mother will mind having
her nap disturbed"
But before she had finished speaking
he was at her side.
GIVE had my eye Oh you this long
xxhsla - ha caf1 in, tnno fhof mt
to be tender, "and I've made up my
mind to" he paused, sudden paleness
overspread his face and he grasped at a
chair-back for support.
CT believe I'm sick !" he gasped,
and falling back upon the sofa, he
groaned heavily.
"What's the matter-what ais you,
Beniis9" and Mrs. Toothacre reused
from her nap, hurried to her sons side.
Is it your head?" questioned Susy,
frightened and trembling at the dreadful
pallor of his face, while visions of sud
den apoplexy, hereditary, perhaps, rose
in horrible array before her.
"Oh, no., moaned the sufferer, feebly,
"it's my-my stomach-ough !"
And Susy ran for wash-basin.
She understood it all now" the fool
had overeaten himself" she thought,
with sudden diminution of sympathy,
and there was more of ridicule than pity
in her tones as she recommended her
fathers favorite remedy for all diseases
of the digestive organs, good dose of
lobelia.
"It won't hurt you" she said, trying
hard to smother laugh at The ridiculous
appropriateness of the scene and place,
the doleful air of the sufferer and his
mothers distre ssful sympathy, "and it
may do you good. Father has great
faith in it."
But the patient shook his head decid-
eddy, and his mother whispered, under
her breath
He don't believe in any kind of hot
drop medicines, and he'll feel better
when he gets that load off of his stom-
ach.
But the hopeful prophecy seemed slow
of fulfillment, for the sick man grew
worse instead of better, until even Susy
began to look frightened and glance anx-
iously from the window, hoping 80 catch
sight of her father, whose experience in
sickness had made him quite an au-
thority, both in the neighborhood AMI
his own family.
There he is :" and, running to meet
him, she told him of their guests sud
den attack, winding up with the half
frightened declaration
"I'm afraid this is something more
than a common attack of Indigestion.
You don't suppose" catching at her
fathers arm, as he was about to enter
the door, and speaking in terrified
whisper, that he could have been poi
soned 2"
Nonsense, child I" and he coughed,
not ill-pleased to see, as he thought,
some traces of tender anxiety in his
daughters words and tones, but his
face grew grave and there was a marked
uneasiness in his manner as he watched
the painful retchings of his patient.
"I'm afraid there's something more
than we understand in this, Susy," he
whispered. 1t does look" with
glance at the distressed face, Gas if he
had taken something besides wholesome
food into his stomach. I think I'd bet
ter go for the doctor-and, if he'll take
it, perhaps you'd better fix little lobe
liza for him. It'll warm his stomach, an
perhapa furp his qickpooc -