The tribune. [volume] (Beaufort, S.C.) 1874-1876, 1876-05-17
THAT HOMEMADE ice CREAM.

GOOD gracious, mar I" said Angelica
Crane to her overworked parent, at
nlghtfall Of memorable day-a day
that marked the beginning of the young
squlre's Christmas holidays at home, and
every minute of it crammed and crowd
ed with labor for tho entertainment in
his honor at the Crane homestead
"good grucious you amt going to
have some home made cream, surely ?"
The young lady's nose, which was ex-
csedingly retrousse already, was perched
high i'll the alr with disdain. eff there's
any thing L can't abide" she said. it's
frozen corn starch and that's all Won
can make OF homemade cream, any way
you fix itl''
"Hold yonr tongue, Angy," said her
mother; "you're the most onfeelin'
creetur ever see. You'd hev me har-
ness up the team and drive away to
town and pay out a mint of money,
when kin jest as we'll hev it for nothin'.
Ham we got a prime new freezer, and
cream aud eggs and ice, without it's cost
in a cent? What more do you want 2"
:" A prime new freezer I" scornfully
echoed Angy: "You'll want half a
dozen of 'eml"
Well, can't 1 borry 'em2" said her
prudent parent.
"And who's going to hang over 'em 2"
snt the young lady. whose stay at
boarding school had not obliterated the
home dialect. They need to be turned
and turned. and everybodys worn out.
Its nearly time to dress now, and you
want little coolin' off yourself. You're
as red as beet"
"I'll stay if can be of any service"
said voice in the doorway.
"Why, Sally" said Mrs. Crane.
"youn want to run home and dress,
won't you?"
ooh, I'd rather not," said the voice,
this time trembling little. "I don't
feel fit for any fun, Mrs. Crane. 1t
don't seem to me ever will again."
:" s'pose not, deary," said the farm
er's wife, with an expression of pity
mingled with relief. eth be dreadful
convenient to hev you stay, Sally, if you
kin. There's a power to do vet, and
only one pair O. hands to do it. L s'pose
you wouldn't keer to go up in the par
lor; but the freezers'n be in the cellar,
and the heater keeps it nice and warm
down there; and while you're a-makin'
the cream, you kin listen to the music.
and hear the noise and all. It'll come
kind O. nice to you that way, won't it,
"Good life. mari" laughed the viva
clous daughter; " is that what you Call
nice 2 1t reminds ms OF the little hun
CRY boy who went to smell the steam
at the pastry cooks !''
"You don't know nothin' about the
way Sally feels" said Mrs. Crane, "nor
don't think you could if you tried. I
believe you'd dance and whsle about
before the grass took root over your
pappy's grave; but Sally loved herp.
poor child, and she can't help thinkin'
OF the poor schoolmaster lyin' out there
In the snow, when here he was. only n
bit ago, as click and smart as ANYBODY.
It's no KNOWN whose turn it'll be
next"
Whether the good woman had any
reason of her own for thus dwelling
upon melancholy subject, it decided
poor little Sally's aversion for the merry
making and put to flight the gay Angel
lca, who was In no humor for red eyes
and poses, when the young squire would
ortly come, and it behooved these fea-
lures to be at their best.
But Sally fell to sobbine outright. not
givlng thought to the deleterious effect
OF Tears npon her beauty, although once
upon Time 1t was bright and bonny
enough to ensnare the young SQUIRE
to school on his handsome sled he made
many stumble over the ice i'm LOOKING
back upon the sweet face under it's scar,
let hood, the little cheeks all aglow. and
the yellow curls wantoning about with
the brisk wintry air. Sally's was ALWAYS
the biggest apple from the finest tree in
the orchard; the most luscious grapes
from the grapery found their way to
Saly's desk; and in the intervals of his
possessing a penknife young Master
Randall left no blunt pencil in Sally s
sachel.
When it became necessary that he
should be snnt to place of instruction
pentting his station in life, and the fiat
had gone forth that the dear old days at
the village school should become part
and parcel of the past; when he must
bid goodbye to his romps in the now
mown hay, his races with the young
colts in the ten-acre field, his Deriving
and .picnicking, his coasting down the
glorious old hill; when he must part
with his dog Lancer and hiseun and his
pony-above all, with Sally-it was a
heartreDding time. Whatever grown mn
folks may think of these childish griefs.
they are as tough to bear as the heavier
ones that come later, and they leave