Iron County register. [volume] (Ironton, Iron County, Mo.) 1867-1965, 1880-01-22

naH cOttOn, and WILL fray and turn rusty
in no time, while costing just as much
for making and trimming. These will
last US for years. We can make them
over, and vary the trimmings, use them
for best dresses in summer, and for
evening dresses in winter, if we want
to. Oh, there is 10 end to them"
No end, indeed! Yoss'H make an
end fast enough" says Aunt Con.
"And the making pray what did that
costp''
"We only had them cut and fitted, -
says Lou. "That cost two dollars for
each. We can sew, but we can not cut
and fit. We should only have wasted
the stuff and ruined our dresses if we had
attempted it,
"H'm!'' says Aunt Con. 81 make
my own dresses"
$50 any one would guess who sees
them. They are tight where they ought
to be loose, and loose where they ought
to be tight. They bag and wrinkle
and screw and hang in festoons, wear
out long before their time, and look
shabby from the first-but she saves two
dollars!)
81 suppose every one has her own
idea of economy, and a right to practice
he virtue as she chooses says Lou,
meekly.
"No doubt, no doubt says Aunt
Con; but we know that in her heart
there is no doubt, but dissent total and
entire.
By-the-way, girls,' she continues,
81 got a bargain this morning. Carter
is selling off quantity of thread for two
cents spool. bought dozen spools,
and YOU had better 60 down there at
once and do the same.''
"Thank you, aunty,'' says Lon, 'sbut,
as I told you, we can't afford cheap
things.''
"What nonsense!" cries Aunt Con,
sweeping Lou from head to foot with
one expressive glance, taking in her
pretty gray cambria dress and white
rufied apron, her dainty boots, and the
bit of blue ribbon-just the shade of her
eyes-which CLEANS amid her bronze
brown hair, and reflects its hue at her
slender throat. Then she turns, and
without another word, leaves us to our
reflections and comments.
Isn't she exasperating?' say, when
she is fairly off; but Lou only laughs.
!" She means it for our good,' she
says. self our ideas differ, I suppose the
fault is not in US, but in temperament
and circumstances
Fortunately it is Aunt Con who lives
with us, not we with Aunt Con. Things
are never so bad but that they might be
worse, suppose, and Aunt Cons
grumblings at our extravaganza are not
so hard to bear as submission to her
wonderful system of economy would be.
Lou and I are not rich, but we have
comfortable little incomes. We have
been orphans from childhood, but our
guardians are of an accommodating
turn of mind. Finding that we pre-
ferred independence to a share of either
of their luxurious abodes, they threw
no obstacles in our way, provided we
could find a suitable sheep-dog. So we
took a pretty, tiny cottage, in quiet
country town, invited Aunt Con Tracy,
our fathers second cousin. to take up
her abode with us, and set up for our
selves. So far, think that none of us
has seriously regretted it. Now and
then Aunt Cons conscience smites her,
and she bestlrs herself to interfere with
our housekeeping, begging US to try
some of her wonderful and economical
recipes-to repress our vain longings for
dainty fruits, fresh meats and vegeta-
bles, and to content ourselves with such
fare as q strict regard for economy
would, in her opinion. dictate. Such
rebellion is promptly repressed by Lou,
who is at the head of every thing in
our little household. Only decided
suppression will avail with Aunt Con.
Lou represents to her in vain that our
bill for fresh fruits and tempting dishes
does not equal what the Doctors bill
would if we adopted Aunt Cons sug-
gestions, and starved ourselves in win
ter, or overheated our blood in summer,
from false ideas of economy. Never
will either of us forget the time when
We were deluded enough to put the
reins of housekeeping into Aunt Cons
hands for season, worked up thereto,
against our better judgment, by her ex-
postulations and entreaties
'What ais this butterP'' says Lou,
at our first meal under the new regime.
"What can Brown mean by sending us
such? 1t fairly burns my throat. Was
there no better in market, Aunt Comp.
ssThis butter cost fifteen cents
pound. That which you are in the habit
of using costs twenty five" says Aunt
Con, severely, with an air of conclusive
ness which ought to shut Lou up, but