The weekly clarion. [volume] (Jackson, Miss.) 1863-1882, 1875-08-18

:, GU must, to have such a nice hous
as that Is going to be. But there
$. shouldn't know what to do with it. and
l. don't envy you bit"
a ooh, you needn't" saws she. a-twitcI
,. ing her shoulder; 81 expect to hay
:. trouble enough with it, /"
:. Not, says III don't mean that JiI
: isn't steady. He's as steady as clock
/ at that old fiddle of his. But sometime
: 1 do wish he loved his regular trade q
: well, or else that that soas his trade, he
!, want to be wood-carving all the time"
why don't you speak TO him." say
she, Seriously"
j. . Well you can't, says /. "He's 8
sweet and good natured and pleasant tina
when I've got my mind made up to Civ
him sound talking to, he makes me Xix
him SO, and sets me to laughing, an
plays such a twirling, twittering tun
that l can't do it to save my life"
You see, I'd got to talking rather fire.
with her, because she listened so, ant
seemed interested, and kept looking at m,
in wondering way, and at last took SUI
up in her lap and gave her her rings t,
play with. Such rings! My gracious
one of them flashed with stones all round
just like the Milky Way. | SHOULD
think it would have shone through hel
glove.
"But," says he, you should tell him
that his children will be growing up pres
emily, and"
"Oh, do that" says 1. "And he
says, well, he'll do for the bad example
they're to take warning by; and, at any
rate, it's no use worrying before the time
comes, and when they do grow up they
can take care of themselves Just the way
we do"
F'And are you contented to leave it so %
says she:
"Well, I'm contented enough. That is,
in general. But | do wish sometimes that
Jim would go down to his work regular
every day, with his tin pail in his hand,
like other men, and come back at night,
and have good round sum of money in
hand at once, instead of working long
enough to get some -four and fish and
pork and potatoes and sugar, and then
not so much as lifting his finger again till
that all gives out; its such hand-to-
month way of living, says [. "And, of
course, we can't get things together, such
as a rocking-chair, and sofa, and good
sized looking-glass, and an eight-day
clock. Not that | care much only when
lady like you happens in I'd like
to give her a seat that's softer. And
there's a bureau. Now you wouldn't
believe it, but I've never owned
a bureau"
'Indeed, says she.
eyes. l don't think its good manners
to be always apologizing about the looks
of a place; and so | don't say anything
about the boxes and bundles l have to
keep my things in, that do give littery
look but | am always meaning to have a
bureau to put them it, if I can compass it
ever. You see, it's hard getting so much
money in pile; and if l happen to, why
then there's something | must have, like
Jim's boots, or flannel and yarn cloth, or
a little bed-because you can't sleep with
more than two children in one bed. And
50, somehow, never get the bureau. But
then | don't give it up. oh, suppose you
think my notions dreadful extravagant,"
says |, for she was looking at me perfect
ly amazed really, just as if l was a little
monster, and she'd never seen the like.
d" And perhaps they are. But people
must have something to ambition them,
and it seems as though, if [ ever could
get bureau, | should most feel as if I'd
got house
"Well, l declare says she drawing
of long breath.
81 did come precious near it last fall,
SAYS I-'' for / wanted her to see that it
wasn't altogether an impossibility, and |
wasn't wasting my time in vapors-''w when
Jim was at work up here, helping lay out
the garden. He was paid by the day,
you know; DIR. Mulgrave paid him, and
he was paid here, and | had the handling
of the money; and | said to myself,
Now. or never for that bureau!' But,
dear me, l had to turn that money over
so many times to get the things | couldn't
do without at all, that before | got round
to the bureau it was every cent gone
g Yes" says she, " it's apt to be SO. l
know if / don't get the expensive thing
when | have the money in my purse, the
money is filtered away and I've nothing
to show for it..
"That's just the way it is with me,
saws I. But somehow | can't seem to
do without the shoes and flannel, and all
that. Oh, here's your husband That's
a powerful horse of his. But l should be
afraid he'd break my neck if | was behind
him."
&c Not when my husbands driving"
saws She s. And she bids me good-day,
and kisses Sue, and springs into the wa
gon, and is off like bird, with her veil
and feathers and her ribbons and stream
ers all flying"
Well, so far so good. Thinks [ TO
myself: ''Shell be very pleasant neigh
Dor. If she's ever so fine, she don't put
on airs. And it does you good once in
while to have somebody listen when
YOU went to run on about yourself.
And maybe she'll have odd chores that
can turn my hand to-plain sewing, or
clear-starching, or an extra help when
company comes. | shouldn't wonder if
we were quite mutual advantage. And
so l told Jim, and he said he shouldn't
wonder too.
Well, that evening, just at sunset
now I'm telling you the real truth, and II
YOU don't believe me, there it is to speak
for itself-Jim was APPLYING "Roslln
Castle" and was a-putting Sue to sleep,
when l happened to look out of the win
dow, and there was job-wagon coming
straight up the hill, with something in it
that had great canvass hanging over it.
'tIts a queer time o day" says l to my
self, g to be bringing furniture into Mr..
Mulgrave's house, and it not half done,
either. But its none of my business.
Maybe its refrigerator to be set In the
celler." And / went on patting Sue,
when all at once Jim's fiddle stopped
short, as if it broke, and | heard grutf
voice saving, Wherell you have it !?
Here, you, Sir, lend a hand. Aud L
dropped Sue on the bed and ran to the