The Brookhaven ledger. (Brookhaven, Miss.) 1875-1883, 1880-09-30
literary.
SUCH is LIFE.

reality. An old brick school
house, formerly a church, with it
broad doors and great arched win,
Idows, their buff curtains hutterin:
lazily in the breeze. forms the prin
cipal feature. A background o
! hazy. purple-green hills, and jus
to the right a grove of grand old
walnuts, where daily we held our
noon plcnics, and wove wonderful
garlands to decorate the yellowed
walls of the old school-room, and
in front the great gaping ditch,
which in NEUTRALITY-SUSPICIOUS. space
of time would swallow up the whole
school after the bell tapped for re-
cess; but to me the dearest feature
of all was the broad old Mississippi
in the distance, rolling along In ma
jestic grandeur, its sparkling wave.
Flets catching the suns brightest
beams, and throwing them into the
old school-house- with redoa bled
brilliancy. From my seat near the
window I think / never tired lef
watching it's bright waves glimmer
and CLEAN through the swaying
green trees. Here, gentle reader, Il
was that l first knew Ethel Ray.
mond, tiny, fair,haired girl oi
perhaps my own age, always clad in
the same pure-vhite dress withTits
marvellous number of tucks, and
blue silk waist, With low neck and
short sleeves setting off her fair
childish beauty, though sadly out
| of place IN the. dusty old school,
room, as was the general opinion
from the numerous upturned noses
and suppressed litter Of the little
calico clad damsels whose manners
were not nearly so respectable as
their somewhat faded garments,
How long it seemed till recess that
first morning, and when it game
how we all bounded off to 'soui
grove" as we called the walnuts, tc
surround Mat Bronson, who, with
an air of superior knowledge, had
Informed us that the newcomers
lived '.just down by her house.
consequently was supposed to know
all about them.
81 s'pects they must be awful
rich to dress so fine at school," tim
idly suggested little Kitty Edwards
as soon as we were settled.
"Rich, indeed! shifted Mat;
"poor as Jobs turkey; live in an
old shanty just down below our
house; amt got anything in 1t but
two or three old chairs, q table and
stove; awful stuck up, too. My
ma went over there, the other day
| lust to to see whatskiad of people
they were, and, my land! Mrs. Ray
mond was SO nigh and mighty she
hardly asked her to sit down. She
said under the circumstances she
couldn't be very sociable, which
means she's too poor; amt going to
send her boy to school, with hel
present arrangements she can t.
which means he amt got anything
to wear, you know. Pity he cant
wear the family" white, with about
half the tucks ripped out; it would
be just long enough for him; with
all, you know, it makes very styl
lish Sunday dress for the mothers"
"Well, I'd be ashamed, Mat
Bronson, to tell such stuff as that, u
interrupted one of the girls.
"Well, you know Pm never
ASHAMED to tell the truth, and
lthis is solemn fact; she's got one
of these sewing machines. You
lust pull the thread and away
goes the tucks; its got a draw
string in the waist, and when its
washed and done up who knows
the difference? Now, my dear school
mates, don't look so hOrror-struck
tell you all this as a secret, won't
tell everybody for anything; as
there are only about forty of you
of course it will never get out, '
giving her curls wicked toss.
Mat Bronson was the acknowledg
ed leader, and / tear the new scholar
would have been sadly neglected
but for the ever-thoughtful kind
ness of our teacher, who seemed new
er to weary in his efforts to enter
tain and amusaAer during the long
recess time. L can see the m yet
his dark boyish beauty contrasting
with hers so fair and child-like
Earnest Emerson, our teacher, had
come to us from a neighboring ac-
ademy, and, though scarcely more
than a boy, had won his way botf
among parents and pupils.
Ethers mother, a delicate, fragil.
little woman, seldom went out. Mis-
sing Ethel from school severa
weeks of the commencement of tn,
fall term, l begged permission to g
and see what was the matter. Thi:
I readily obtained; and, as it was
the day before Thanksgiving, alst
permission to invite my little frien(
to spend the morrow with me. TIL,
dead November grass may have
writhed and cracked under my fly
ing feet. but you may be assured
none grew as sped to Ethel. How
the bright eyes shone when I tolt
her! though speedily followed by ,
shade of disappointment as sh'
said:
"Oh!is I only could, but / can't
Mamma is sick and, anyhow, I hav'
not anything to wear"
"Oh, we'll soon fix that. Yo'
know that red polka dot of. mine
III Just hate it because l can
breathe but what a hook flies of
and I believe it will just fit you, be
cause you amt as fat as I am, ant
II know mamma is tired Of sewing
on hooks, and will be ever so glat
for me to give it away, SO you're al
right there"
"Oh, but, you know; she's rea
sick! She just coughs all night
and is so hot. Sometimes / wax
lup and hear her moan. Then al
most scream, I'm so 'fraid she's 60
ing to die!" and the great eyes di
lated with horror. 3slf
/ "Oh, Ethel; YOU always ge
scared SO easy. Everybody get
sick sometimes, you know. Yo
come tomorrow, and when every
body's gone I'll get my mamma t
come over and see her and brin
her something nice-a Thanksgi,
ing dinner, you know. Won't tbs
be nice? Now run and ask her;
must go. Remember, the dress
come tonight" !" e Sei4
The next morning, among tn