Watertown republican. [volume] (Watertown, Wis.) 1860-1906, 1878-11-27

Carpet-bag ana White neCk-tle!
"Ah!" said the clergyman. ga WIS.,
itor, suppose. He is most welcome.
But am just at present deep in the
thread of a complicated po]emic theory.
Make my compliments to the gentle
man, Lisbeth, and beg his indulgence
for quarter of an hour Or So" And
the parson dipped his pen resolutely
into the time-stained wooden standish
as if he was determined to settle the
subject at once.
"But, papa" Lisbeth had caught at
his coat cuff to reclaim him temporarily
from the abysses of theological argu-
ment.
eyes, my dears," looking absently at
her
"Do you think he'll stay to din
ner?"
Il shall invite him, my dear, most as
surcdly"
Lisbeth's countenance fell. "But,
papa," faltered she, ''there's nothing
but barley soup"
1--WE will serve it with the 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, inn
patient breath. "Papa's an angel" SAID
she to herself, ''but angels never were
adapted to get alongin 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 rcgulsh twinkle IN the deep hazel
eyes, -"and he begs you'll be good
enough to wait until he's through"
The stranger bowed, and looked more
embarrassed than ever, as she answered.:
ooh, certainly, certainly. | am in no
haste whatever"
And Lisbeth went back to her sister
Polly" said she, "what shall we do ?
Company to dinner, and nothing to give
them"
But we must hare something" said
Polly. Put on your things, Lisbeth
Go out and buy a fowl, and a quart of
potatoes, and loaf of bread. And stop
at Mr.. Darkin's for n ounce of his best
tea and quarter of a pound of but
ter"
Lisbeth opened her eyes very wide at
this eXtravagant order.
ooh, you reckless Polly" said she;
sand where are all the funds to come
from?
Polly sighed softly. 81 shall have to
take the dried cherry money" said she,
that was saving up for my fall hat
and gloves. But it isn't much matter.
| dare say | can manage very well with
the old ones for a little while longer"
Its shamew cried Lisbeth, vehem-
emily. And think how you toiled all
those hot summer days to pick and dry
those black ox-hearts."
There's no help for it, DEAR" said
Polly, gently. "Get your hat on Quick
there's no time to lose"
"Why should all the travelling preachers
and book agents and mission collectors
come here and eat us out of house and
home? Why don't they they go to Mr.
Crocus?
Polly smiled. because Mr.. Crocus
doesn't make them welcome, and papa
does," said she.
81 do WONDER" cried Lisbeth, i'm
petuously, eff there is any other race
of men imposed upon as country min
listers are? Mark my words, Polly, l
7oeUer, will mary "a"
But by this time Polly had tied on
her sisters straw hat, and twisted q
muslin scarf across her shoulders.
"Do make haste, DEAR" said she, in
accents of gentle entreaty, as she point
ed upward to the clock.
Scarcely fifteen minutes had elapsed
when Lisbeth came flying back, with
yellow tresses streaming behind, and
market-basket in her hand
"There, Polly" cried she, in the clear,
light voice of girlhood, as she deposited
a plump chicken on the table, "there's
your new hat; and there" as she laid
down a packet Of groceries, are your
gloves; and here" rafting out the po-
tatoes, els my last chance for a new
blue neck-tie! And [ do hope, Polly,
that they'll give the missionary the worst
kind of dyspepsia"
Lisbeth!''
Swell, but do" saucily retorted the
girl, as she turned to put away her hat.
".And- Oh, Pokly!"
Polly turned around with start, at
the changed tenor of her sisters voice.
ill.,"
Lisbeth, with glowing face, pointed
to the little wooden cupboard in the
wall, which, extending through from
parlor to kitchen, in buffers pantry
fashion, was used as general reposi-
tory for books and papers. And then,
for the first time, Polly perceived that
both doors were slightly ajar.
"Polly,;' mutter ed the girl, hoarsely,
he has heard every word! He couldn't
help it, And finging ner hat in one
direction, and her scarf in another,
Lisbeth fled up the narrow wooden
stairs to her own room, and threw her.
self, sobbing Historically, upon the bed.
cts my tongue" sobbed Lisbeth,
"my wretched, chattering tongue. Papa
always warned me against giving loose
rein to it; Polly always told me it would
get me into trouble. On, dear, dear, what
must he think? how can [ ever look him
in the face?" And with this doleful
resume, Lisbeth buried her hot face in
the pillows, and cried harder than ever.