Litchfield enquirer., 1876-06-01


 iUf popn1ar fashion. and 1t was clearly difficult to forget her successes Htrto ct was careful reproduction of the last mode, and profusely trimmed. but the materials were trashy. her ornaments only simulations Her somewhat pincheil cheeks still bore tw6' spots of brilliant carmine, not artificial. and her faded eyes kept sparkle that might be shrew- ishness or vivacity, according to circum- stances. Most men would have called her a fine little woman still, and women, mo- ting her toil-worn hands. and her resolute air of putting the best foot forw ard, W ould have been mercifnl to her vanity, juvenil- ity. and make-shifts.
 In the opposite corner sat the chron icler, myself,-a young woman whose fathers, grandfathers, and upward have d cit or been known in Sehannet since the days when it's worn out pastures waved with the forest priineyal.
 Only greetings had been exchanged while we were on the deafening pavement, but the instant the chatter died away into the pleasant sound of crunching through reluctant sand, Mrs. Hawkins began, in a tremendously snbterranean, husky voice, that was constantly losing itself in a Wheeze.-
 ''There! Thank goodness, that's the last O them pesky pavementsi When I'm away from home I'm never fairly easy till I'm headed for our bare old hills ag'in, an the very m1nnit we jounce off the cob ble stones, kind O consate that I begin to smell our pines and hemlocks! And so you've got back at last, Fanny" (to mel ''Schoolin's done now, ant it? You can talk their lingo with all the furriners now, I expect. I needn't ast if youre we'll, but do tell me how yer maris. I've charged Jubal three weeks. every time he come into the city, to be sure an. stop at yer par's office and asst after Mis- Latham, but iaw!-a man! Show Jubal horse t he could make good trade for. II tell him he'd forgit t order me coffin f lay in the house a month waitin' to be Suried :! But how is yer mar, n how'd she bear the voyage home?"
 l explained.
 "Sho, now! you don't say SO! And got to start ag'in next month Wal, Florida ant so fur off as where she has ben, but it's hard for 8 woman with all that house. ful of boys an girls to see to. But I'm real glad to hear she's better'n she was, n l suppose yer aunt Marian can make the young folks gee pretty we'll? Yer aunt don't like Sehannet s wells the rest O your folks. She's he'd the children off down the bay the two summers you've ben gene, n it looked lonesome to see your house most all shet mp, n none on ye drivln' through the village, but knew you'd come and take a look at the old places soon's you got back. We shall be lookin for you over, tomorrow. or next day. My cake pail's full O seed cakes and them sugar jumbles you used to like, n I guess M'nervy'll Aev batch O pumpkin pies ready by this time. Jubai's been maxim wine this year out O pretty nigh everything that grows. You'll hev to taste all the kinds, n he'll expect you to say that they don't make nothin in fur rin parts to come mp to his elder-b berry stuff Sonnet he made two years ago is pretty good with hot water n sugar of cold night, but the critters so sot up about it that won't praise it mite
 ''But talkin' of eatin' reminds met I've got some capsheafs in my bag: always want somethin' t gnaw upon in the stage; t kinder gets the time over." And the good sonl had presently supplied each one Tn the stage with two or three of her fat, smooth, brown-skinned,b butter-feshed pears, and no one would have disputed that gnawing upon them did while away the time agreeably. The little woman, my neighbor. as she threw back her veil and smiled her thanks for her portion, dis closed feature that held me as did the eye of the Ancient Mariner his auditor; so ample. so fully exposed an array of false teeth, square-cut, blue-white, glitteling, glaring. that the menacing prophecy, ''There shall be weeping and walling and rpV1n of %no H. and grim realism to me. They were dreadful to look upon, and I could not look away! Who ever beheld such a color? And what broad grooves they cut in the firm pears! l gazed and gazed, for we were, and was somehow back in the the terrible tragedy. "0h, grandma better to eat you with, my dear!'' fell on my inner ear so clearly that I jumped to avoid olfish spring and clutch, and woke up to wrench away my fascinated eyes and turn my back upon my neighbor until her fruit was disposed of, and the teeth, as she did not speak at all, quiet and hidden.
 By this time the three other occupants of the stage had embarked upon a swift stream of talk, Mrs. Burdick questioning the places. the people she re- who was married, who was dead, how so and-so had given his proper ty, what so-and-so was worth. Suddenly she leaned from her window te look at farmer who had passed us, seated on hls wagon load of vegetables.
 ''Wal, I declare fort" she exclaimed, drawing back her head, eff that want iC1,s I1 couldn't grow no homelier, but he has. though he don't look as if he'd given up to be an old man yet. You'd think, to look at his team and his whole rig, that he want worth ten dollars in the world, bull know whoever's lost money't ant Deacon 'Lish' Manchester! Is poor Mis- Manchester a-livin' yetq"
 ''Not the one you knowed," replied Aunt Nabby. ''The Lord must ha thought she'd suffered enough, even for a woman, to be let out of this world. She died last March-very unexpected at the last. Her daTters can't seem to git reconciled to 1t, no way. They say they can't but be thankful she'd gone but they can't forgit how she suffered, how hard her life was, and that she never had, since they can any of them remember, 6 single well or happy day. The gals all sot everything by their mother. and their father carried sail so when she died, and has gone on ever since, sayin' an doin' the cuttin' est things, that they think it an t no use to be close mouthed over their feelin's an troubles They re determined the neighbors shall know what their mother had to endure"
 Everybody always knew that Deacon Manchester was hard man, near as the bark to a tree, and dreadful pompous.' returned Mrs. Burdlck. "and they pitied Mis- Manchester because she was always sick; but she never went anywhere, or in- vited company to her own house. and i'll my time folks used to think she was rath- or stand-offish, and odd "
 Why. bless you. Senath Burdick,' burst out Aunt Nabby. with unsual heat, ssthe poor woman could,st go nowhere A great deal of the time. for years, she want fit to be out Of her bed, and would nt ha' ben. only there was all that farm work to be done, aud nobody else to do it ahile she could crawl An she had to crawl to do 1t, sometimes. One of the neighbOrs, a man, told mo himself that he