The weekly herald. [volume] (Cleveland, Tenn.) 1876-1888, 1877-07-05

hard 20 think no more OF Harry, though
/ had made up my mind-minds are
easily made up at seventeen-tO live
unmarried, for his sake. Thus the
Summer wore away, the harvest passed.
and the dull days of November came on.
1 had got accustomed to the ways OF
the house. Though good it was an old
one. There was the best parlor and the
best kitchen opening from it; numbers
! of pantries, closets, and cupbOards, and
stair behind the old dresser, leading
right up to Mrs. Williams own room.
1t was over the porch, and had windows
on three sides, which gave her view
of all who came or went. Her accounts
were kept there in an Old-fashiOned
ash desk, so were her choice recipes, and
she had them for making everything.
There was a cupboard set in the thick
walls, its doors not to be distinguished
from the rest of the wainscOt, in which
Mrs. Williams kept the most rare and
curious of her stores. was once per-
mitted TO see them as great privilege,
for she never trusted the key to any
hand but her own. There were spices
and essences, costly at the time of my
story, but not common yet, old China
which had been brought by the first
India Company's ships; mixtures for
taking out stains, powder for destroying
moths, and a poison for rats invented
long ago by some of the Cornish people,
and of terrible nature. So Mrs.
Williams told me, and l can remember
now that the poison resembled nothing
| ever saw but red pepper, which was
an expensive luxury at that time and
kept in the cupboard also.
1t may be believed that 1 was in great
favor for not only were her treasures
shown to me, but | had tea with Mrs.
Williams In the porch-room every even
ing. She took kindly to me from the
first, because | exerted myself to learn
housekeeping, which my mother said
was the principal thing for young
woman expecting to have home of
her own, and still more because | kept
quiet and sober, and had no looks Of
levity. Nothing of that kind would
have been allowed at the Golden Sheaf,
inn though it was, the house being kept
with the greatest propriety. There, were
no jokes, and very little gOssiping,
plenty of work, for almost everything
was made at home, and great deal of
coming and going. Our quietest time
was about the middle of November, just
before the winter fairly begun. Then
Mrs. Williams got her cattle killed, and
her meat salted, and most of the SER
wants were busy about the work in the
yard and buttery.
One close, cloudy day, such as come
so often at the Martinmas time, was
sitting in the best kitchen, close by the
window, doing some needlework, and
Mrs. Williams was in her own room
settling the accounts, for it was In the
afternoon. The sound ofa horses hoof
upon the road made me look out, and
there was gentleman handsomely
mounted, with a servant after him, as
gentlemen did in those days. They
looked as if they had travelled far, and
were coming to rest at the inn.
When the gentleman alighted, saw
he was tall, handsome, somewhere
about thirty-tive, and had a jOvlal, good
natured look, like one who was well
pleased with himself and everything
about him. He walked in not at all
strange-llke, and asked me in the most
civil and courteous manner, if Mrs.
Williams lived here, and if he and his
servant could have dinner. The first
question was in low tone, the second
in louder key before | could answer
it Mrs. Williams came down. Judging
from her look he was quite new conner.
/ thought the gentleman glanced curl
ously at her at first, and, then seeming
satisfied that all was right, repeated
his question about the dinner, saying
shat he was a stranger in that part of
the country, but that he had heard so
much of the Golden Sheaf that he wished
to stop and dine at the house.
never saw Mrs. Williams receive
any gentleman with more respect and
ceremony. She curtesied him into her
best parlor, called her hostlers to help
his servant with the horses, took his
orders for his dinner, and set about
cooking 1t herself, for the cook was hard
at work in the buttery. My first notion
was that she had discovered him to be
some great person travelling in Disguise,
and | half expected to be told of it.
Mrs. Williams used to talk to me good
deal when we were alone on quiet after
moons; but now she went on cooking
and making things ready without say
ing word, and there was n queer, fixed
look in her face which could not
understand, but 1t kept me from talking.
laid down my work and rose to make
the eel-sOup; it was one of the things
for which the house was famous-a
Cornwall dish, believe; and | had been
trusted with the making Of 1t of late to
my great exultation, but now she
stopped me. "No, Mary; finish your
sewing; those linens will be wanted.
I'll make the soup myself"
sewed away, wondering who the
gentleman could be, and what had got
over Mrs. Williams, till happening to
look up, missed her out of the kitchen.
She had gone up to her own room, but
she came back in minute with paper
| In her hand, which she shook into the