Essex County herald. [volume] (Guildhall, Vt.) 1873-1964, 1876-05-06
THAT HOMEMADE Tee CREAM.

"Good gracious, mari" said Angelica
Crane to her overworked parent, at
nightfall of a memorable day-a day
that marked the beginning of the young
squire's Christmas holidays at home, and
every minute of it crammed and crowd
ed with labor for the entertainment in
his honor at the Crane homestead
"good gracious you amt going to
have some homemade cream, surely ?"
The young lady's nose, which was ex-
ceedingly retrouSSe already, was perched
high in the air with disdain. elf there's
any thing [ can't abide," she said, "i it's
frozen corn starch ; and that's all you
can make of homemade cream, any way
you fix It'll"
"Hold your 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 mint of money,
when kin jest as we'll hev it for nothin'..
Haint we got prime new freezer, and
cream and eggs and ice, without it's cost
in cent? What more do you want 2"
ga prime new freezer I" scornfully
echoed Angy. "Youll want half a
dozen of 'em 70
"Well, can't borry 'em9" said her
prudent parent.
"And who's going to hang over 'em 2"
said 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.
It's nearly time to dress now, and you
want little coolin' off yourself. You're
as red as a beet"
"Ill stay if 1 can be of any service, 4"
said voice in the doorway.
"Why, Sally" said Mrs. Crane,
"you'll want to run home and dress,
won't you q ....
"Oh, 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."
I s'pose not. deary," said the farm
er's wife, with an expression of pity
mingled with relief. "It'll be dreadful
convenient to hev you stay, Sally, if you
kin. There's power to do yet, and
only one pair O. hands to do it. 1 s'pose
you wouldn't keer to go up in the par
lor; but the freezersll 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,
Sally ?"
"Good life, mari" laughed the viva
cious daughter; " is that what you Call
nice 1t reminds me oil the little hun
CRY boy who went to smell the steam
at the pastry cooks p
"You don't know nothin' about the
way Sally feels" said Mrs. Crane, "nor
l don't think you could if you tried. /
believe you'd dance and whsle about
before the grass took root over your
pappy's grave; but Sally loved hern,
poor child, and she can't help thinkin
of the poor schoolmaster lyin' out there
in the snow, when here ne was, only 6
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 a melancholy subject, it decided
poor little Sally's aversion for the merry
making, and put to flight the gay Angel
lea, who was in no humor for red eyes
and poses, when the young squire would
8 ortly come, and it behooved these fea
lures to be at their best.
But Sally fell to sobbing outright, moi
giving a thought to the deleterions effec
OF tears upon her beauty, although once
upon q time it was bright and bonny
enough to ensnare the young squire
himself. Long ago, when he drew hel
to school on his handsome sled, he mad,
many stumble over the ice in looking
back upon the sweet face under its scar
let hood, the little cheeks all aglow, anC
the yellow curls wantoning about will
the brisk wintry air. Sally's was Away
the biggest apple from the finest tree il
the orchard; the most luscious grape,
from the grapery found their way tx
Sally's desk; and in the intervals of hi
possessing penknife young Maste
Randall left no blunt pencil in Sally
sachel. -
When it became necessary that b.
should be sent to place of instruction
beftting his station in life, and the fla
had gone forth that the dear old days q
the village school should become par
and parcel of the past; when he mus
bid goodbye to his rcmps in the new
mown hay, his races with the youn
colts in the ten-acre field, his berryin
and picnicking, his coasting down tn
glorious old hill; when he must pa1
with his dog Lancer and hisgun and hi
pony-above all, with Sally-it was
heartrending time. Whatever grown u
folks may think of.these childish grieff
they are as tough to bear as the heavie
ones that come later, and they leav
great ugly scars that are sometimes onl
half healed over.
When Will Randall cut Sally's nam
and his own deep into the bark of th
old walnut tree at the foot or the lane
it seemed to him that the knife wer
into his heart with every turn of the le
ters in her precious name. Tears role
out of his eyes in spite of his manly ei
deavor to choke them down; as for Sail,
she had given way long ago, and, wit
her sunbonnet tight down over her fac
was watering the gray old moss at IL
foot of the tree with floods of childis
woe.
At last it was done; there were I'll
initials linked together deep Ia u