The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932, 1879-12-04

with pepper and vinegar, as my poor,
| high tempered Polly seasoned her pies.
1t had flashed through Polly's head
what perhaps she had done; but to hare
| it insinuated that she lid it on purpose
was too much, and with a choke in her
throat, which she was afraid would break
out in a sob, Polly left the room.
| Miss Phoebe had never loved her Or
phan niece; nay, more, she had always
disliked her; but since the advent of the
minister in the village society she had
seemed to hate her with all to venom of
an embittered nature She had fed and
clothed her since infancy because she
had promised her dying brother she
would do SO, and ''duty" was Miss Phoe
be's watchword. The little little lonely
thing had won no place in her heart, be-
cause from the first it had turned from
her and called her ugly and cross. Miss
Phoebe asserted-though upon what
! foundat on was questionable-th but
for this incumbrance she would now be
the wife of wealthy farmer in neigh
boring county.
So all that had been done for the child
had been done grudgingly, but, notwith-
standing, she grew up beautiful and
bright. The townspeople, with whom
Miss Phoebe was no favorite, whispered
that she would never forgive Polly for
being SO pretty-it was continual cross
to her. And perhaps this was SO, for at
one time Miss Phoebes eyes were cast
on the minister, but finding that there
was not the shadow Of q chance for her,
she determined, to use her own express
sion, that Polly should not entrap him."
and she set to work accordingly.
Mr.. Thompson Jones, in other words
Tom Jones, and his young wife inhabit-
Twenty fifth street. The street lamps
were lighted and glistening with frost.
1t was dusk of a snowy night in the lat
ter part of November. In fact, it was
the eve of Thanksgiving day.
Mr.. Jones and his wife chatted and
laughed over cosy tea table.
''How do you like your new girl dear q"
queried Tom; 'I never saw better
cooked steak; must be good cook"
"Good," echoed Mrs. Jones; 81 think
she is; she is jewel; treasure. And,
Tom," she continued enthusiastically,
"have you seen her? She is a perfect
beauty"
Eyes" said Tom, absently, ''but she
only struck me as looking too young to
know much. BY the way, I heard from
Frank to day; he will take Thanksgiving
dinner with us tomorrow. By Jove
won't 1 be happy man A new house
paid for,) a pretty wife, a good cook,
and dear old Frank to sit at my board.
Do you know he has had call here"
"Of course he will accept it p inter-
rupted Mrs. Jones. cit is shame for
man of his talent to bury himself in an
obscure village"
"Of course he will. 1 wrote to him
that [ would show him perfect house
to morrow, Mrs. Jones. So be prepared
for explorations of all your premises;
every water pipe will be examined. Of
course they are always spotlessly clean,
but I thought I would warn you-and-
keep your pretty cook out of the way,
for [ want Frank to think Mrs Jones the
prettiest woman in the house, at any
rate"
Another Thanksgiving had dawned
bright and clear.
Polly looked wistfully out of the case
ment window of the house in Twenty
fifth street. She would have liked to
join the throng of richly dressed people
crowding to hear the new minister, called
to the church around the corner.
The dinner hour was 5, so she could
have found time to go, but since she had
been serving in her new capacity it was
only by great effort that she compelled
herself to go out to bny necessary cloth
ing. She watched little Mrs. Jones trail
down the steps in an elegant velvet
walking suit, leaning on her husbands
arm. Polly wiped mist from her eyes,
and concluding the front window was
not good for her, she went back to the
kitchen and warbled a little song to
cheer herself. And the canary 1n- his |
cage took up the song, and no harsh |
voice silenced him. The poor child al |
ways comforted herself with the thought |
that her present menial position was
only temporary; she only assumed it |
until she could find some other way to |
make living. Mrs Jones was very
sweet and kind, kinder than any one she |
had lived with during the year. She |
really had something to be thankful for
Feeling that she must not indulge in
repining on such day, Polly summoned
her brightest thoughts, and even dim
pie or two peeped out as she thought of
that happy morning over the pies, and
her absurd mistake.
81 suppose he and Melissa are married
long since. Oh if I could only hear
him speak once more"
The morning slipped away, and Polly |
was surprised when she heard them COM
ing home from church.
Again she was making pumpkin pies. |
Mrs. Jones had said: sob do you |
make good old fashioned pumpkin pies |
Mr.. Jones thinks there is nothing more |
delicious, and I know he would like to /
have some on Thanksgiving day."
So now the cook stood beside the Ia
bic with her curls tucked under a some |
what coquettish little cap, a long, de-