St. Landry democrat., 1879-06-21
$toriss &or the j irssias.
" MAKING OUT"

You needn't cry, Roxie. It seems to
you worse than it is. I am happy, truly
am. I wouldn't ask to be happier if
it wasn't for the thought of him. And
sometimes Pm at peace even about him
While there's one poor heart like mine
to follow him with prayers, I can't think
the Lord of all grace is going to forget
him-can you?
Now you are crying more than be-
fore. Do not take it so hard, Roxie. It
seems harder to you than to me, because
we are 80 unlike. I'm used to making
out, you know Do you remember
when we were little girls how you used
to hate your patchwork. You hated it
30 fiercely l never quite dared to tell
you how much | liked it for fear of pro>
voklng you. But liked putting the
odds and ends together to see what they
would make. Once you came into our
house when mother had set me to max.
ing myself an apron out of her old calico
dress. You said you'd never make an
apron for yourself if you couldn't have
new cloth to make it of. But did not
wish for new cloth at all. I really liked
the other best because it was old and
soft, and had grown familiar with it,
seeing it ON mother.
And don't you remember when we
were apprentieed to Miss Cumnor, the
dress-maker, how it wasg It wasn't
long before she'd trust you with the
very best goods that came in, you were
80 sure and thrifty with them. You
liked to cut out of whole cloth, and no.
body could do it better than you. You
said you could see your way then from
the beginning to the end and you never
failed In what you undertook. But she
never gave you the cid dresses that were
to be re.made to rip up and look over,
they vexed you SO. She brought them
all to me. | would rather have them
than the whole cloth; was afraid of
the responsibility when I handled it. I |
liked to take the old things and feel INV
way to the good that might be got out |
o. them BY the good that was left in |
them And you and Miss Cumnor said |
it was witchcraft-the pretty suits / |
could get out of old goods. I liked to do |
it, Roxie. It was my genius, you know |
And it isn't 30 hard for me to make ont |
now, dear, though you think my life has |
been 30 badly cut up.
You never fairly understood the diff |
ference between US. How could you ? |
For you always spoke your mind out |
plain, and ] never could tell you much
in words, 7 wasso cowardly and 30 afraid |
OF making you impatient. I wanted to
tell you long ago how 1t was about
Robert and me, but I couldn't. knew
all the time how disgusted you must be
with me, and yet I couldn't speak, not
even the night when you warned me.
But now you have come back and are 80
kind, and sit there cryingsfor me, want
to tell you how 1t was.
You know / had scarcely ever spoken
to you about him. But noticed him
. great deal. I had . great sympathy
with you both in your happiness. Even
lngs when We came trem the shop and
ne Joined You, ] used to drop behind and
watch you as you walked along. I was
proud OF you; I thought you were SO
Rell-matched, both SO tall and handsome
md full Of life. Robert talked the most.
but il was you who led him and settled
plans and opinions between you.
And when the cloud came that L didn't
understand at first, and / saw your face ,
yetting more stern and moody eyery !
lay, was as much panied and troubled, :
soxis, - if I'd been your mother.l ET .