The weekly clarion. [volume] (Jackson, Miss.) 1863-1882, 1877-09-19
How | Became Mrs. Patty Frost.
BY SYLVESTER c. DUNNING.
From New York Mercury

From New York Mercury
''Miss Frost, where's that ere soap to
be put, and is the eggs to be got now,
and amt that ere puddin' most done"
screamed the bound-girl from the wash
house, quite regardless of commas.
Il say, mother, | can't find single
shirt !" bawled Tommy, the socouu son
of Reu5en and Rachel Frost.
"Ma, tell Susie to let me be !" scream
ed six-year old Mary from an inner
room.
'Rachel, where on earth have you
locked up them ere tools?" queried the
farmer himself, filling the doorway sud-
denly with his substantial form.
Mrs Frost who was dashing about
her kitchen like wild northeaster, in cap
and petticoats, brought herself up short
by the dresser and put down the pitcher
in her hands with an emphasis that
made the tins and pudding dishes
dance.
Good gracious! is everybody gone
mad or do they want to make me so?
Soap, eggs, pudding, shirt, Susie, tools !!
Any one would think there was only one
pair of hands and eyes in the house, and
them was mine. Yell, yell, yell after
me wherever l go. l can't have mo-
ments restl | declare to goodness, # /
don't have somebody here to help me be
fore next week, Reuben Frost, | won't
be worried and drove to death-there
Mrs. Frost talked but little, seldom
scolded, and only on great occasions,
''declared to goodness" When she did,
the matter was settled. So, in due time,
came "help," in the shape of the widow
Patty. Now, the excellent Rachel, upon
writing to her sister in the city on the
subject, had stipulated expressly for a
widow. "Girls," she said, "were for
ever giggling and would all the time be
sticking up their heads when George
was round; and thsdear knew she'd had
trouble enough already about him and
that poor, proud, stuckup soft-sawder of
Lucy Ellis to make her sick of billing
and cooling for the rest of her life and
she didn't want no old maids, because
they was always so desperit-they might
marry George in spite of himself; but if
Ann could find her widow, nova re
spectacle sort of person, and the more
forlorn the better, because then she'd be
contented to stay, perhaps"
But not one syllable had Mrs. Frost
breathed on the item of Cooks" and
Patty, though a widow, was abominably
pretty. Rosy and soft-eyed, with black
hair that continually reVeled in waver
and ripples, and here and there mutinied
into an actual curl, spite Of combs and a
widows cap, and lovely, pouting lips,
that occasionally parted as if to show the
word what handsome teeth there could
be in a woman's mouth.
+ must be confessed that Mrs. Frost
looked aghast, as with the long, cool
shadows of evening, and the fresh rip
pling breeze; and the dying glow in the
sky, and all the other good things of twi-
light Father Daniels ratified up i'll his
patrarchal carryall, and set down on her
doorstep this trim, smiling, self-pos-
sesssd importation, just as if she had
been a barrel Of sugar, or bag Of corn,
or a frkin of butter, instead of the unde.
veloped motive power that was to over
turn and annihilate those venerable in
stitutions, the family prejudices.
Mercy! What could Ann have been
thinking about" parenthesized Rachel
to her husband. "Why, she's worse
than a dozen old maids. | know she's
artful as Delilah herself"
"You might be civil to to the woman,
anyhow" growled the farmer, as the
Yankee Delilah stood in the door, hest
tatilg, and looking uncomfortable as II
butterfly would coming out in January
| always supposing butterfly capable of
such an indiscretion.
Rachel bridled till her very cap-a
triumph and wonder of clear starching
seemed to initiate itself, aud be filed
with doubt about those rebellious little
crrls in the doorway.
"Walk in, num-" said Rachel.
Probably you are the widow PattyY
The curls assented with a timid nod,
as if half-doubtful whether it were not a
sin to be that individual.
take off your hat, mum, went on
the cap. 81 s'pose you know what
you're to do? Jest make yourself handy
lbout the house. Dear knows there's
reed of somebody's being handy"
| Alas! for the memorable and bristling
virtue of clear -starched cap, with a
handsome son Alas for those muffin
Gus rippIes and ringlets that, being on a
lead at once poor and widowed, should
| lave been straight, and were not. Faith
er and children stood aghast as they heard
Rachel Frost-one Of the kindest women
mat ever made buildings or darned
stockings-tell that poor, little, scared,
weary woman to take off her hat and
make herself handy about the house!
Patty herself, in whose mind was still
! fro.h G1sfar mn, varba1 oboSnnraph ~
| her new home, was halfinclined to cry;
only that three years of matrimonY had
| taught her tears can't mend spoiled
dinner, torn clothes, or brute of hus-
band; and, as they brought nothing but
red eyes, swelIed nose, and head ache,
we're luxuries to be sparingly INDUCED
IN. Besides, she was pIucky little
soul, and not disposed to cry ''quarter'
even to clear-starched cap. So, while
Intying her bonnet-string, she took an
observation. Due north-that is to say,
exactly in front of the 6re-sat father and
George, both in a state of temporary
idiocy from excess of establishment at the
unaccountable gyrations Of s'mother, =
Rho, since her dignifed reception of the
help" was revolving around the kitch,
en-, very red in the face, and in an aim
less way that half-distracted the bound
girl, who was trying to set the table-ar
operation that bid fair never to be &C
complished, as that unfortunate young
female, what from natural reluctance
to consider George and his father al
hearth-stones, and step on them to the
rescue Of the tea kettle, what from near
ly dislocating her neck to have apeeP al