Macon beacon. [volume] (Macon, Miss.) 1859-1995, 1878-04-13

behind them took my engagement RIM
from my finger and flung it upon tn,
ground, and | actually, am ashamed u
tell it, but ! did-made my hand into
fist and shook it at my promised husband
What would mamma, the dear, meel
darling | don't get my temper from her
! have said if she had seen me?
AS for Anthony, he wasn't the least BIZ
frightened, but caught the fat, and shut
it up in his strong right hand like some
thing in box.
"I hate you" / cried. "Nobody
ever treated me so before"
"But how many have you treated 50 ??
he asked, with smile; and | couldn't
help thinking how handsome he looked
In the silver moonlight.
Everybody has always done whatever
l wanted them to do" | went on,
stamping my foot.
And consequently spoiled you," said
What did you love me for, if I'm
not-nOt nice ?"
because | knew the moment / saw
you, you wee thing, you we're my fate.
| thought you were nice then and wanted
to take you in my arms the moment you
smiled on me-"
"And now?"
"And now | think you bad tempered,
selfish, willful, unreasonable girl"
"lndeed !" and wrenched my hand
away, but not before he had kissed it
with the most provoking coolness. "Then
we'll part, unless you change your opinion
Immediately, and promise never TO speak
to Meta Broake again.
i shall make no silly promise, Bar
bara." Good gracious the idea of his
calling me Barbara! "I have promised
to drive her to the depot tomorrow"
You return to the city together ?"
We return by the same train, as we
have done dozen times before"
CO." said l, almost beside myself
with rage. 81 never want to see you
again."
" Are you sure, Barbara ?" he asked
"quite sure? | think you had better
wait for day or two before you Danish
me. If by the day after tomorrow
your birthday-you still hate me, send
me word to that effect, and / will, the
moment your note is read, accept posi-.
tion offered me this morning, and start
for home beyond the sea. Goodnight,
Miss Darling"
"Good night, Mr.. Ditto"
And be strobe away up the road, and
| picked up my ring and stole into the
house, and cried as though my heart
would break. 1t was 50 cruel of him to
be unkind to poor little thing like me.
The next morning, as sat on the front
porch darning the childrens stockings
dear me it seems to me every time
stocking darning time comes around that
there never could be another family with
so many legs as ours--Anthony drove
past with Meta Brooke by his side.
hid behind the stocking basket until
they were out OF sight, and then flew
to my desk and wrote as bitter a note as
a woman twice my size could have writ
ten, and sent it to our village postoffice
that very evening by our little servant,
maid.
Our little servant-maid is a pretty
little maid, with large honest gray eyes,
a small red mouth, bright chestnut hair,
a pleasant smile, a neat, plump figure,
and a remarkably cheerful disposition.
And clever little maid she is, too-can
wash and iron and cook, and do a hand
red other things; but she possesses one
taste which interleres sadly with the
performance of her domestic duties-the
most insatiate hunger for literature,
which she gratifies whenever she finds an
opportunity, in season or out of season,
morn, noon or night.
Potatoes and stews are burned, bread,
cakes and pies baked to cinders, doors
lett open all night, breakfasts delayed,
lunches forgotten, dinners served too
early or too late-all on account of this
love of reading which characterizes our
little servant,maid.
She nearly drowned baby once, while
giving her her bath, by letting the
darling's head slip under the water, while
she devoured story in Harpers
Weekly she had taken from a table near
by. She let my canary escape while she
removed his empty seed cup with one
hand and Helen's babies in the other,
her eyes being fixed on the book. She
spilled the soup one dinner-time over
papa's immaculate white vest while try.
ing to peep at the magazine he was
glancing over. She set the hot fat-iron
on our best damask tabie.cloth, and left
it there to indelibly imprint its triangular
portrait, while she hastily read a murder
case in the morning paper.
She could be scarcely got out of bed
mornings, because she was tired and
sleepy from reading the book she had
distracted from the bookcase the night
before, and when she did get up she
actually sat before the dreary looking
stove for half an hour or so, intently
perusing the various scraps of newspaper
while she should be lighting the fire.
In short, if she had not been the most
devoted, sunny, unselfsh, tond.ot-us.all
little creature, it would have been utterly
impossible for us to have stood the many
mishaps and disasters that sprang from
our servant>maid sdevotion to literature
AS it was, papa said to her when she
drenched him with soup: "Another
occurrence of this nature, and you CO."
And mamma said to her when she nearly
drowned the baby; "Really, Eleanor,
ii anything as dreadful as this happens
again, we must part" And said to
her when she freed my song-bird: "The
very next thing you do while reading"
and | made significant pause and
looked.
Yes, miss" said Nellie, meekly, with
the tears in her gray eyes, which didn't
prevent her, as soon as she reached the
kitchen, bursting out with "Why, why,
why didst thou leave mel" to tune
mace up of a strange combination Of
"Old Dan Tucker and "The Russian
Hymn"
But with the exception of a turkey
nicely roasted and sent to table retaining
its crop and one or two other superfluous
appendages TO turkey when roasted, on
account Of "Red as Rose is She," and
forgetting to put the yeast in the bread
one night because East Lynne" lay
beside the bread bowl, Nellie had got
into no trouble for several months, and
had gladly said to me the morning of the
very day | sent that horrid letter: $50,
| II. L. A. -