Weekly Chillicothe crisis. (Chillicothe, Livingston Co., Mo.) 1878-19??, 1880-07-22


CbarlesP" urged Mrs. Caryl Hot corn
bread and strawberry jam"
"I'l stop for nothing!" said Mr.. Caryl
"Don't fret, little mother; it went take
me long to speak 10 Sarah"
And he disappeared with laugh.
As Ii happened, he never before had
been called upon to practice this partic'
ular branch of his profession, pleading
with the rebellious lambs OF his flock who
thought more of their bright eyes than
they did of their hymn books, and he
turned the matter over in his mind as he
walked along the frosty woodland path,
where the young moon cast fitful, evan
escent light, and the dead leaves sent up a
faint odor beneath his feet.
"Speak to Sarah" he muttered to him
self, not without a certain perception OF
the ridiculous side of the matter. "And
what am to say to her, | wonderP"
He knocked softly at the big front door
of the Prune mansion. A shufilng, un-
tidy girl of II or Is opened it, hiding be.
hind a shawl and a fringe of curl.papers.
"ls Mrs. Prune at home?" said he.
"No. she amt" retorted the girl.
Mr.. Caryl paused. He scarcely knew
what question to ask next.
as Sarah at homeP" he demanded,
after a little.
"Miss Sar0h?"
"Well, | suppose il can hardly be, Mr..
Sarah, said the young clergyman, half
smilingly. Eyes, Miss Sarah, Of course"
"She's at home" said the girl, un.
graciously opening the door little wider.
Game this afternoon. Settin' in the par
lor Walk in"
And without further ceremony Cary
found himself ushcred into a semi-dark
apartment, where tall, slender young
beauty Of eighteen summers or so sat be-
fore the fire, in plain black dress, with
the simplest of cuffs and collars, and
single blue ribbon fastened into the thick,
dark braids of her hair-a person so en-
tirely different from what he expected to
see that he stopped short in some per-
plexity.
"Is Observation-Disclosures" he asked.
81 am Sarah Fielding" she responded.
"a have calIcd-to speak to you" said
he with desperate rallying Of his verbal
forces. Perhaps, Sarah you may know
who amp"
"No don't, said the girl in some sur
prise.
81 am Mr.. CmyI, the pastor of the par
ish."
81 am happy to make your acqualut-
ance, said the girl, putting out one slim
hand in the easiest possible manner.
The pastor hesitatel. This was not
what he Bad looked for at all.
"Or courso-ofcoursc," said he, "But
how does it happen, Sarah, that you are
at home again so soonr"
"Do you mean 1t Wcstbrook2'
"Whcre else should ! mean?' rctorted
Mr.. Caryl, crustily-for he felt that if he
once abandoned his tone OF authority he
was lost. "Why didn't you stay where
You werc2'
Sarah colortd up to the roots Of her
hair. He could perceive that, even in the
uncertain rise and fall of the freight.
81 do not like the POSITION said she in
Il low voice.
"But you ought to like it," said Mr.,
Caryl.
"You are not aware of all the circum-
stances, " pleaded Sarah.
81 am quite aware said Mr.. Caryl, |
severely, that vanity is the root of all
your evils.
"VanityP"
The crimson was deeper than ever now
on brow and temple as she half rose.
"Ies, vanity" mpressiycly reiterated
the Clergyman. 'Be silent, if you please,
young woman, and hear me out. You
have certain amount of personal attruc
tions, which appears to have turned your
head. Remember that beauty is but skin |
deep, Call to mind frequently the old
adage that handsome is rs handsome
does After all you are neither Mary, |
Queen of Scots, or Cleopatra. Now take
my advice, Sarah"
''But have not asked for i'll" she cried |
out, in chokcd accents.
"No matter whether you have or not,
said Mr.. Caryl, calmly. ITS my business
to volunteer good counsel, and yours to
receive it. | repeat, Sarah, take my
advice, and 60 back to your last place. |
Apologize humbly for your shortcomings;
tell the woman of the house that you will |
strive to amend your conduct for the lu. |
ture, and enleavor to deserve her approval. |
Put away your silly ribbons, bows and
brooches with stern glance at the
poor little agate breastpin that glistened
at the girls thrOat" leave the vain |
accessories of dress to your betters, always
remembering that the ornament of meek
and quiet spirit
But just at this point the young clergy.
mans Grafton was abruptly checked by the |
eatrancc of Mrs. Prune herself, shawled
and b0nnete1, and breathing fast from
the haste she hal made. In one hand
she held prodigious brown cotton UNI
brella; with the other she dragged for.
ward the untidy damsc of the shawl and |
curl.papers.
"Here she is, Mr.. Caryl, here she isl"
bawled Mrs. Prune, who did not possess
that most excellent thing in woman, "a
low and gentle voice." "a lazy, good
ior,nothing, stuck-up vain mink, as
needn't suppose as Pm going to do for
her no longer! You needn't hang back,
Sarah; it amt no good Here she is,
Mr.. Caryl!-here's SARAH"
The young pastor stared in amazement.
as that SarahP' said he.
"That's Sarah," painted Mrs. Prune.
"And who is thisP' he demanded, turn
ing to the slim, dark.eyed girl with the
blue nbton and agate brooch.
CHATS my niece, Sallie Fielding as
has been govemess of family up in Maine
for three years." said Mrs. Prune. "And
she's down here on visit now-come this
very afternoon Haln't you been intro.
duced yetp Mr.. Caryl, my niece, Sallie,
Sallie, this 'ere's"-
But before she could finish the words OF
her formal introduction the clergyman
had made nervous grasp for his hat.
I'll have been the victim of mis-
understanding" stammered he. "This
young person told me that she was Sarah"
80 she is, " said Mrs. Prune. "But she
ain't the Sarah as is to be spoken to.
UT hoo n thnuaand apoln1ias ~ oaid Mr.