Vermont watchman and State journal. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1836-1883, 1880-05-26
: The butchers bill, papa |"

Eh ?" said the parson, as he stared at the
pretty, slender girl in faded calico and
washed-out ribbons, who stood beside him
with an ominous-looking piece of paper in
her hand
"The butchers bill, papa" said Polly
Fem "and he's waiting, please"
"But, my dear, we've had no butchers |
meat this month. We have striven TO be in |
the last degree economical"
eyes, 1 know, papa" said Polly, knitting |
her pretty brows "but we ordered three |
pounds of steak the day the district mission |
aries dned here, and there was the joint |
for that Sabbatarian society day, and the |
evening the bishop was here-don't you re-
member :"
al remember, my child remember"
said the country parson with sigh " Hos
pitality is an agreeable duty, and one that
the good book enjoins upon us, but 1t costs
money, Polly-it costs money. Put down
the bill, child, and tell neighbor Brisket
that will attend 10 it at my earliest con-
venience."
Still blue-eyed Polly hesitated " And the
grocer was here this morning, papa, and the
account has really mounted up beyond every.
thing. And he says that he hopes you will
please to settle at once, and that hereafter
he has determined to do business only on a
strictly cash basis"
The Reverend Mr.. Fem smiled sickly
smile.
"Then am afraid, Polly" said he, "that
he won't do much business with me. For
as long as the vestry are so dilatory with
their payments" -.
eyes, papa, that's Just what told him."
said Polly; "but he says that business is
business"
"He is right, my DEAR" said the parson,
| and / am wrong but it is through no fault
of mine. Now run away, and leave me to
my books"
Polly Fenn silently withdrew, with her
pretty brows still knitted as if she were
utterly hopeless of comprehending the prob
lem of the worlds ways. The butcher,
white-aproned and burly, stood at the door,
living impersonation Of the fate which
Polly could neither ignore nor avert
"Well, miss ?" said the butcher.
"Papa will attend to it at his earliest con-
venience, Mr.. Brisket," faltered Polly.
"But his earliest convenience has been
such mortal long time a-comin', miss"
grumbled Mr.. Brisket.
"Im very sorry, Mr.. Brisket, but"
"'Tain't no good standin' here" said the
butcher, irritably scratching his head. al
might ha' knowed what answer | should ha'
got afore I crossed the threshold. I'll call
again this day week, miss, and then"
And with this the butcher whisked him
self away under the arch of morning-glory
vines. And Polly with crimsoned cheeks
and heart beating with vague resentment,
turned back into the great sunshiny kitchen,
where Lsbeth was swaying nervously to and
fro in the splint tbottomed rocker, with a
week-old newspaper in her hand.
| ishath " said the elder sistpr austprelV.
care the wild-grapes ready for preserving p
"Wild grapes ?" repeated Lisbeth, fling
ing the newspaper into the window-seat; |
|, haven't thought Of them since you went
away. Oh, Polly, how l wish we were
rich !"
Polly advanced soberly to a fiat wicker
tray Of clustered grapes, full Of subtle per-
: fume, and busted over with pale purple
| bloom, aud began TO separate them from
5 their stems with deft, quick fingers.
t "Why? ?" said she.
al would go to New York and see thi:
i new play" said Lisbeth, still swaying bach
|. and forth in the splint-bottomed rocker
l. "Olivia was country parsons daughter
t and so are we. should like to see my owl
e counterfeit presentment on the stage"
y "Nonsense," said Polly. "You had dea
= better come here and help with these grapes.
g said Lisbeth. "Just look at US, Polly, yo
e aud me, two girls of nineteen and seventeen
n that ought to be enjoying ourselves and hay
# ing a good time, aud here we are, washing
n and scrubbng, and turning wretched rag
6 of dyed silk, and cleaning faded ribbons
e and counting every pound of rice aud ever
@ potato Even these wild grapes, Polly, tina
" you and gathered down by the edge of tn
l. swamp, we shouldn't venture on the extray
6 agance of preserving them, if Mrs. Deaco
'e Blodgett hadn't offered to supply the suga
on halves. Oh, do so hate this life Eve
Brisket the butcher thinks he can insult u
Is with impunity."
A "Yes," said Polly, thoughtfully, "w
mustn't order any more meat at present"
"But we must live" flashed out Lisbeth.
"There is salt mackerel," said Polly, "an
eggs, and vegetable soups, and Mrs. Pulle'
% always sends us a nice cut of pork and som
m fresh sausages when they kill their pil
y Oh, we shall get along somehow, Lisbeth
lie anything is better than debt"
s, Lisbeth looked up with sparkling eyes.
lie "Polly," cried she, "why don't they il
N year is shameful pittance for such ma
r, as he is.'
N Polly shook her head over the grape
" "Papa isn't young man any longer, Ii
sr BETH" said she, :" and he isn't as modern
es his ideas as Mr.. Crocus."
t, But he is such a learned man." cried oil
g, Lisbeth, shaking the yellow name out OF ht
lie eyes And his sermons-oh, Polly, the
or make me cry, they are 80 deep and s
ct solemn, and go down into ones heart SC
p Six hundred dollars year, Polly for sue
at work and study as thatl"
1e "There is no doubt" said Polly, soberl
h. but that clergymen are, as a general rul
lie very much underpaid in this country"
1t 81 shall never marry clergyman" erie
~ Lisbeth, with energy. "No, Polly, never
I'D marry a dustman first For dustme
get their pay, and clergymen don't, and
Lisbeth stopped short, scarlet and col
fused, in this rhapsody of hers, for, chancin
er to glance up, she beheld in the doorway
s. tall and soemn-faced young man, with a
is umbrella in one hand and travelling satch
ID in the other.
OF ave don't want anything, please" sal
II, she, jumping at once to the conclusion thi
W she beheld book agent, or a vendor of p
10 tent polish.
pc al beg your pardon" said the gentlema,
IS, apparently as much embarrassed as was 81
Id herself :" / must have mistaken the hous
o | was looking for the Reverend Franc
IN Fem !"
II "My good gracious another missionary
u murmured Lisbeth, soto poce, as Polly stel
n ped graciously forward, saying,
III "You are not mistaken, sir this is tf
er house. Please TO walk into the parlor, al
OF will speak TO papa" The best room {
u, parsonage was cold and dark. "Not tn,
n chair, please" said Polly, coloring up to tf
u roots OF her hair, as the unwary stranger az
as vanced toward certain corner " the leg
- broken, and we've glued it, and I'm afrai
it's not quite safe This one is better"
While Lisbeth, hiding her face in h,
apron, murmurs TO herself, " Is there no en-
;, TO our humiliations Is our world alway
,e to be full of glue and patches, and mend
10 and makeshifts Z"
W "Lisbeth,' said Polly, returning, 60 an
Nj call papa"
K. ats another missionary, I'm sure" sal
ID Lisbeth, unwittingly pulling down th
T. sleeves of her brown calico dress. An
l. know he'll stay to dinner, and he's got
n, hungry glare in his eyes, and there's nothin
A. for dinner but barley soup and cabbag,
re Oh dear !" with grimace which made Poll
Or laugh in spite of herself, g wish the rae
k of missionaries was extinct"
m The country parson looked mildly up frol
10 the second paragraph OF his thirdly" a
if Lisbeth came in.
le "Papa," said she, "there's a gentleman |
n. the parlor to see you, with carpet-bag an