Ashtabula weekly telegraph. (Ashtabula, Ohio) 1880-1886, 1880-04-02


iackanapes Of a boy he ohuoked Il un-
der the rocker cushion Jest 10 plague
her, and Miss Blake she come In and
sot right down on it, not KNOWN of
course, that twas there, and as n that
want enough TO spoil it' (an involun-
tary litter seemed 10 express the sense
OF the audience that it was), that
other sprig she took and upset a
pitcher of milk onto the cushion, and
you'd better believe that bunnit was a
sight.n
why didn't she get anotherPr
severely asked Deacon Morse's wife.
"WhyP Why, becos she's most n
saint. Her dividends some on 'em
did't come in, and she'd promised that
biggest girl fifteen dollars to help her
get out to her feller at Chicago, for Sary
told me ont herself; and then she gives
five dollars to hum missions every year,
and she done it this year jest the same,
and she's took that widder and them
orphans home all summer, and nigh
about worked her head off for 'em, and
never charged a cent o. board: and
thereby she hain't had no money 20 buy
no bunnit, and goes to prayer-meetin'
in her calico slat."
A rustic of wonder and respect went
through the room as the women moved
uneasily in their chairs, exchanged
glanoes, and said, "Myr which in
spired Miss Beers to go on.
D." And here everybOdy's ben a-talkin'
bad about her, while she's ben a real
homemade kind of a saint. ] know she
don't look it, but she docs Il. and that's s
a sight better. l don't b'lieve there's
one woman in forty could ha' had the
grit and the perseverance to do what
she done, and hold her tongue about it
too. / know l couldn't for one.''
"She shouldn't ha' let her good be
evil spoken of, " said Mrs. Morse, with
an air of authority.
81 dono as anybody had oughter
have spoken evil of her good,n was
Miss Beers dry answer, and Mrs. Morse
said no more.
But such warm and generous vindi-
cation touched many feminine heart,
which could appreciate Miss Beulahs s
self-sacrifice better than the deacons
could. There was an immediate clus-
tering and chattering among the good
women, who, if they did love q bit of
gossip, were none the less kindly and
well-meaning, and presently spokes-
woman approached Miss Beers with the
proposition that if she would make Miss
Beulah handsome bonnet, a dozen or
more had volunteered to buy the mate
rials.
"Well," said Miss Mary Jane, wiping
her spectacles, "this is real kind; and 1
make no doubt but what Beulah' d think
the same, though she's a master-hand
to be Independent, and some folks say
proud-mabbe she is; but l know she
couldn't but take it kind of friends and
neighbOrs to feel for her. However,
there amt no need ont. 1t seems that
Sarah's husband amt very forehanded,
and she's got a dreadful taste for
the millinery business; so she's gone
to work in one of the fust shops
there, and is gettin' great wages, for
her; and only yesterday there come a
box by cypress for Miss Beulah with the
fastest bunnit in it ever see in my
life. l tell yOU it was everlastin' pret-
ty. Sary she sent a note to say she
hoped Aunt Beulah'd give her the
pleasure to accept it, for she'd knowed
all along how that she was the cause of
her goin' without bunnit all summer
q expect her ma had writ to her), and
she felt real bad about it. You'd bet
ter b'lieve Beulah was pleased"
And Miss Beulah was pleased again
when the women from the village be-
gan to call on her even more frequent
ly than before, and express cordial and
friendly interest in way that surprised
her, all unaware as she was of Miss
Beers enthusiastic vindication of her
character before the sewing circle.
Yet, poor, dear, silly old woman only
woman, after all-nothing so thrilled
and touched her late-awakened heart as
little Janey's soft caresses and dimpled
patting hands on that sallow old face,
when she climbed into her lap the next
Sunday, and surveying Miss Beulah's
new bonnet, exclaimed, with her sill
very baby voice, "Pitty, pity bon
netr
Jack did not say anything about it,
nor did the congregation, though on
more than one female face beamed a
furtive congratulatory smile, and Dea-
con Flint looked at Deacon Morse
across the aisle.
If there is any moral to this story
as no doubt there should bet lies in
the fact that Mrs. Blake never again
sat down in chair without first lifting
the cushion, Rose Terry Cooke, IN Har-
per's Magazine.