Sharp County record., 1880-09-09

| Tor him. BetSey must know the real
ginewine truth of livin', and / shall see
to it that she does" she added, as she
set the cake tins, now filled with the
delicious compound, on the broad man
tel-piece in readiness for the oven and,
lighting a candle, went with emphasis
in her tread down the cellar stairs.
Betsey had pressed the last fold into
the handsome homemade damaSk and
opened drawer near Aunt Polly to de-
post the ironing sheet and holder, Civ
ing her the while such woeful glance
as greatly touched the old lady, who
was fain to comfort her.
Don't say too much" she murmur-
ed, "your mas as sot as stun boat
and as quick as rate day. Only be pa
tient and it all may turn out bettern'
you think"
Betsey's determined little face grew
scarlet even to her hair, and hearing
her mothers returning footsteps she
fitted into the buttery to avoid her
searching gaze.
Widow Remington's buttery was of
the ideal New England order. Secured
shelves, Spotless and white; rows of
milk pans, in which the cream had set
in rich yellow folds; host of jugs and
jars ranged round the lower shelf, the
cookey crock; the artichoke and cucum-
Der keg; the picked peppers; the round
OF dried beef; the high shelf of cheese,
flanked at one end with honey and the
other with Jelly and preserves and the
handy and humble corner f0r cold
victuals.
AS Mrs. Remington came in and de-
posted the pitcher of currant wine for
the pies in progress, BetSey stood at the
cupboard at its far end, apparently alb
sorbed in reviewing and wiping the
china plates, while her thoughts went
wandering out into the unknown world
in search of beloved form and face.
And so the long morning went by in
the pleasant, thrifty kitchen till the
household affairs reached a most happy
| climax. The kitchen was sweet with
straying odors, and the ease of culinary
compounding was something wonderful
to witness. There was no touch in New
England cookery unknown to Mother
Remington and she managed the situa-
ton like one to the manor born.
"Tury, Ketury," called Mrs. Rem
ington, without stopping her beating Of
eggs, to a little girl sporting with Rover
in the dooryard. "Seeif Ration is out
to the courthouse, and tell him to come
and clear the oven out for me. BY the
time he's swept it out l shall be ready
to set in. Tell him to bring along the
oven broom. Pick up your sun bonnet;
don't let Rover claw it inter flinders.
Here's bunch O. raisins and piece o
cake for ye. IN hand it through the
pantry winder." ;"
"Certain it does beat all how Hetty
takes to that child" soliloquized Aunt
Polly as she hung the silver cloths to
dry on the stoop. "No wonder poor
Roxy Harris died easy when she'd
lodged her little gal with Hetty. She
never humOred one O nern so, nor
thought O letting anybody else. 1 can see
that sister Remington fails every day."
BetSey," called her mother, I've
'sot in and shall leave the cleanin' up
for you to look after while l watch the
baking. Bring down my best gingham
and getme my broad white linen apron,
and bring 'em to my bedroom while I'm
slickin' up, and get my spectacles out
the stand drawer and lay the weekly
paper along with 'em. You'll find it
under the piller to the settle. Ihev to
hide it" (apologetically); " if l don't
it's all read to pieces afore l get to it. :"
Betsey dutifully supplied hermother's
wants; and as if to conciliate her, Mrs.
Remington said:
YOU'RE a good girl, Betsey, but it's
my bounden duty to keep yer from flynn
up into the face O. Providence. Girls
need sight O admonishin'.
In an incredibly short time after the
dishes were all in place and Ratio S
wife, living near, came in to do her ac-
customed part and the white pine floor
was secured and sanded to a high de-
gree of excellence, and Betsey hung
the kettle on for the restful cup of tea
her mother so enjoyed after her morn
ings work.
In her own little room she made her
simple toilet, smoothed her hair and
fastened clean white vandyke about
her waist, its snowy ruflle circling he's
pretty threat, and tied on clean aprol,
pausing as she did so to gaze for .he
twentieth time from the little south
window down the road, in the direction
of store and post-otfice.
At last the old horse came ia sight.
Well she knew his sober trotting and
the faint rattle of the old one-horse
wagon, but Jim was not alone, and who
ever could be with him.
The old wagon ratified on into the
yard past the window and Betsey, with
wide eyes and palpitating heart, real
lied who it was that had taken them so
unawares. She came down stairs,
rushed past Rover, who stretched at
length on the doorstep, raised his head
with suspicious sniff, and in another
moment felt her hand clasped by Henry
Creighton.
"Well," said jim as he threw the
reins on the horses back and stopped to
unfasten the trace; Il he'd so much
business on hand l took pardner, but
l be blowed, SIS, if l didn't forgit about
your post-otfice after ALL"
No need of apology. Jim could talk
if he chose but nobody heard him or
cared what he said. They fingered a