The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1881-10-15

course it was all seeming, the young
wife told herself, but it was surely very
disagreeable. After tine wretched meal
was over. Mrs. Stickney. almost ready
to cry, invited her husband to take q
walk, but here was Mrs. Mazonson at
his elbow.
Hiram had to go away this noon,"
she said, $50 | suppose you'll have to
milk, Hubert"
Mrs. Mazonson was very tall, very
thin, very dark, and her voice was so un-
utterably deep and hollow that Mrs.
Stickney could not rid herself of the no
ton that it belonged to somebody else.
The city-bred young lady knew that
cows had to be MIXED, but she had
never associated her husband with the
one that performed the operation, and
now turned an astonished face to that
gentleman and the assembled Macon
sons.
ut must be fun to milk" she re-
marked, determined to put the best
possible face on affairs. 'I'u go and
see you"
"Not in that dress, l hope,"' said
Mrs. Mazonson, as Mr.. Stickuey left the
room. :" l was going to say. little
while ago" she went on, "that seeing
as you was dressed up, you needn't
mind about the dishes"
The dishes? What in the world did
this dreadful woman meanp Before she
had time to inquire, her tormentor had
left the room; and now, more perplexed
than ever, Mrs. Stickney went in search
of her husband. She found him at last
in the barn-yard, and in the excitement
of a new sensation almost forgot the
disagreeable things that had preceded
it. In dilapidated straw hat, patched
coat and blue overalls, she did not at
first recognize her husband; but when
she did. she clapped her hands like q
child and laughed as merry laugh as
was ever heard on the Stickney farm.
us that the way people always
dress when they milkp'' she inquired,
touching the old coat caressingly with
her little white hands.
Zone must dress according to ones
work on farm, Florence" Mr.. Stick
ney remarked, sententiouslv.
Something in her husbands words or
manner must have recalled her late an
noyances, for the smile faded from her
lips, and her eyes grew sad and troubled.
Hubert" she said, softly, "who are
those those ladies at the house?"
"Why, they are the Mazonsons,
Florence Mazonson and her two
daughters" the master of the Grange
replied.
at was very kind of you to ask Mrs.
Mazonson and her daughters to meet
me-" the young wife resumed, with a
touch of something in her tone that her
companion was not familiar with, "but
| can't understand why they should
seem so very much at home, Hubert"
MIR. Stickney moved the three-legged
stool to the side of another COW, and
commenced milking again, before he
replied.
Didn't mention to you, Florence,
that these ladies lived with mep" he in
quired. ~ know l didn't dwell on the
subject" he went on, "but must have
spoken of it,"
Mention to me that these ladies
lived with your Mrs. Stickney repeat
ed, oblivious to the rest of her husbands
hard look settling round the
pretty mouth. May ask, Mr.. Stick
ney, who these ladies areP know they
are the Mazonsons," she added, in the
same singular tone, "but what are they
to you?"
"They are relatives of my first wife,"
the gentleman replied. in voice that
had the calmness of desperation in it.
" must have taken for granted that
you knew, Florence. Mrs. Mazonson
was Mrs. Stickney's mother and Maria
and Susan her sisters"
" And they have always lived here?"
"For some time before and ever since
Mrs. Stickney died Mrs. Mazonson has
been my housekeeper, and the girls
have been her assistants"
"Why was there no servant, Mr..
towait ON the table this even
ing?" was the lady's next question.
We have no servants, Florence. 1t
is not the custom with Vermont farm
ers, my dear"
g And all the work of your house is
performed by the Mazonsons?"
Yes"
"Who did it before the Manzonsons
cameP''
Mrs. Stickney, my dear"
For moment there was silence in the
barn-yard. Then there was rustic of
silk, a light step going swift
ly toward the house. and thus thSsingu-
lar interview ended. This was a very
commencement, Mr.. Stick
ney told himself, and for while this
gentleman's milking was purely me-
chanical. From the bottom of his heart
he wished he and his wife could be
alone. On the other hand there was a
great deal to do in the house, much
more than Florence could ever manage
if she worked night and day. At this
point Mr.. Stickney really did have seri-
Gus doubts as to the wisdom of this
second marriage of his. For the first
time he asked himself whether it would
be right to impose the drudgery of farm
work ON this young and delicately nur-
tured woman. He had thought very
little about the domestic part of the
He was accustomed to
seeing the women about him constantly
occupied, and Florence knew she was
accepting farmer when she agreed to
marry him. Then, too. Mrs. Mazonson
was exceedingly competent; indeed,
no housekeeper could be more so;
and Mr.. Stickney summed it all up
by assuring himself that Florence could
get along with the Mazonsons easily
anOuOh il she had only n mind Tn thinly or