The Forest Republican. [volume] (Tionesta, Pa.) 1869-1952, 1878-12-11


we've glued it, and I'm afraid it's not
quite safe. This one is better"
While Lisbeth, hiding her face in her
apron, murmurs to herself, els there no
end to our humiliations /? Is our world
always to be full of glue and patches,
and mends and make-shifts ?"
Lisbeth," said Polly, returning,
Ego and call papa"
It's another missionary, I'm sure, !"
said Lisbeth, unwittingly pulling down
the sleeves Of her brown calico dress.
"And I know he'll stay to dinner, and
he's got hungry glare in his eyes, and
there's nothing for dinner but barley
soup and cabbage. Oh dear - with a
grimace which made Polly laugh in
spite of herself, "I wish the race of
missionaries was extinct"
The country parson looked mildly up
from the second paragraph of his
"Thirdly" as Lisbeth came in, smelling
of wild grapes, with an aureole of yellow
hair about her face.
"Papa," said she, "there's gentle
man in the parlor to see you, with a
carpet-bag and white necktie
All - said the clergyman. GA
visitor, I suppose. He is most welcome.
But am just at present deep in the
thread of complicated polemic theory.
Make my compliments to the gentleman,
Lisbeth, and beg his indulgence for a
quarter of an hour or 30" And the
parson dipped his pen into the time
stained wooden standish, as ii he was
determined to settle the subject at once.
But, papa P' Lisbeth had caught at
his coat cuff to reclaim him temporarily
from the abysses of theological argu-
ment.
"Yes, my DEAR" looking absently at
her.
"Do you think he'll stay to dinner P''
"l shall invite him, my dear, most
assuredly."
Lisbeths countenance fell. But
papa" faltered she, "there's nothing
but barley soup"
"We will serve it with good old
fashioned sauce of welcome, my dear, "
said the Reverend Mr.. Fem, with a
grave, sweet smile, "and [ doubt not
it will suffice"
Lisbeth hounced out of the room
with heightened color and quick, i'm
patient breath. "Papa's an angel,
said she to herself, "but angels never
were adapted to get along in this work
a-day world" She put her golden head
into the parlor door for an instant.
"Papa is very busy with his Thirdly"
said she, with a roguish twinkle in the
ieep hazel eyes, "and he begs you'll
be good enough to wait until he's
through"
The stranger bowed, and looked more
1No,r ha .
"Oh, certainly, certainly. I am in no
haste whatever"
And Lisbeth went back to her sister.
"Polly," said she, "what will we do.
Company to dinner, and nothing to give
them"
"But we must have something" said
Polly. " Put on your things, Lisbeth.
Go out and buy fowl, and a. agart ,oi
potatoes, and loaf of bread lapI
at Mr.. Dakin's for an ounce ot'shfs best
tea and quarter of pound of butter. u
Lisbeth opened her eyes very wide al
this extravagant order.
"Oh, you reckless Pollyp said she
"and where are all the funds ito come
from ?"
Polly sighed softly. ''I shall have
to take the dried-cherry money" sale
she, "that was saving up for my fal
hat and gloves. But it isn't much mat
ter. 1 dare say 1 can manage very vel
with the old ones for little while
longer"
cts a shame - cried Lisbeth, We.
hemently. "And to think how yor
toiled all those hot summer days to picl
and dry those black ox-hearts."
M ho1Yo Gov 1aor - :,
Polly, gently. SECT your hat on quicl
there's no time to lose.
But it isn't fair, ;" protested Lisbeth
"Why should all the travelling preach
ers and book agents and mission collec
tors come here and eat us out of hous
and homel Why don't they go to MI
OrocusP ?"
Polly smiled. Because Mr.. Crocu
doesn't make them welcome, and pap
does, said she.
"I do wonder" cried Lisbeth, i'm
petuously, "it there is any other rae
of men imposed upon as country min
listers are9 Mark my words, Polly,
never, never, will marry a.
But by this time Polly had tied o
! her sisters straw fiat, and twisted
muslin scarf across her shoulders.
j "Do make haste, DEAR" said she, i
accents of gentle entreaty, as she poin
, ed upward to the clock.
3 Scarcely fifteen minutes had elapse
when Lisbeth came flying back, wit
. yellow tresses streaming behind, an
: market basket in her hand.
a "There, Polly" cried she, in I'll
b clear, light voice Of girlhood, as she d,
posted plump chicken on the tabl
= "there's your new hat and there" {
d she laid down a packet of grocerie
= "are your gloves and here, rattlir
Q out the potatoes, sis my last chance fl
new blue neck-tie And 1 do hop
+ Polly, that they'll give the missional
!, the worst kind of dyspepsia. "
|, Lisbeth
"Well, but do" saucily retortt
Is the girl, as she turned to put away h