Daily globe. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1878-1884, 1880-03-14
AUNT P0LLY'S STORY.


Mary Sanderson, city born and bred,
was On visit to her mothers aunt, Mrs.
Polly Perkins.
One day she entered the house her
cheeks all agl0w.
Il met Mr. Tracy and his mother out
riding, auntie. What sweet face she
has, and how fond ard proud her son is
of herr'
Aunt Polly was making pies.
SO he orter be" she said, cutting deity
the superhuous crust from the one she had
lust covered, the rings of dough falling
over the plamp bare arm. "Therc amt
many sich mothers; what she underwent
fur him can't be told in Words
"She inquired after you, Aunt Polly.
She said you were once the best and only
friend she had"
Polly smiled, as she glanced I'D from
the apples size was slicing.
''It's true as Gospel, child, though there
wouldn't nobody think it TO look at her
row, the time was when every heart and
door in Burberry Green was closed ag'in
her but your Aunt PollY's. An she ain t
forgot it nuther. Grand as she is, an
high as she might carry her head if she
was 3 mind tew, she amt forgot how
stood by her through all her troubles.
She 6 i've Iae the black silk gown 1 wear
Sundays, an the lace cap an kerchief
you was admIrln', an that easy-chair in
the square room, an the carpet an pic
lures. There's scarcely u week passes
but what she sends ME suthin' or ruther.
Ii 'tain't more than some fruit or flow
ers."
Tell me all about II" said Mary,
coaxingly; Il KNOW it must be interest
Ing. DO, and I'll help you to make the
pies. | can pare and slice apples"
Polly looked rather obviously at Mary's
white dress.
eff YOU are a-goine few dew that. dear,
you had better put on one of my aprons,
so IS not tew soil your gown"
Enveloped in one Of Polly's gingham
aprons, which nearly hid her from view,
Mary took the pan of apples and low
seat by the table, at which the former
stood, rolling-pin in hand.
Now begin, auntie, she said, ''at the
very beginning, mind, when you first
knew her"
"If dew that I'll have tew 90 back
few when we was girls, and used tew 60
tew tie deestrict skewl together.
"Jenny Locke was the darter Of Tom
Locke the blacksmith: big, brawny fel-
Ter, with q voice like the growl of a bear,
and al arm like sledge hammer. How
lie ever come tew hev such sweet, pref
ty girl as Jenny, passes me. She did
not look mite like HIM, nor his wife
nuther. Folks said she look Jest like
Toms grandmother, who was an edi-
Gated lady, and who ran away tew marry
his grandfather. But never see her.
She lived at Burberry Centre, an died
when Jenny was baby.
s:Tom had five other children, all girls,
and Jenny was an odd sheep in the flock,
looking like moss-roSebud among holly
hooks, or violet underneath hedge.
"They were all nice girls, enough, full Of
fun, an bound tew have good time but
Jenny was the flower of the family
There couldn't nobody help loving hel
that knowed her. 1t was as nat raj fol
her tew be gentle an sweet an ladylike
rs tew breathe.
An she was just as pretty as pictur
with big black eyes, an hair jest the same
color, as soft an shiny as silk. I used
tew like tew watch the color in her cheeks
comm an goin',-now jest delicate
pink, an the next minute as red as the
heart of June rose.
''An' there was more than me tina,
used few love teW watch this. But
hain't come tew that yit.
esquire Tracy was the richest man il
Barberry Green, an lived in the grandes
and biggest house, an he felt his oats
you may depend. Not that he was any
above speaking few common folks-h'
alters spoke to the poorest on 'em-bu
it was III Il grand, paternizin' way tina
didn't suit some people.
':The old squire want none too pleas
ant few live with, nuther, not if half tn
stories told about him was true. He hat
terrible temper, an was as sot IN hi
ways as mule. Everybody said that l
Miss Tracy hadn't been one of the peace
ablest creeturs alive she never coul,
have got along with him. But as 'twa
they didn't have no trouble, or If the
did, nobody herd ont.
"They had one son. Norman Tracy wa
liked by every one in the village, grea
an small. He was so brave and gener
Gus, and had SIGH pleasant an winnin
ways. Both the squire an Mis- Trac
sot their lives by him, though they ha'