Connecticut western news., 1881-06-22
BUTTER.
BY ROSE TERRY COOKE.

"I aint one O that kind, now tell ye! Elf things to say, say it square out; but Philindy Beers, she keeps a. butterin' and a-butterin' and smoothin' down an strokin' over. Why, there she is ]"
 Miss Nancy Tryon was tall and gaunt and lean; scant gray hair was brushed back from her angular forehead and twisted into tight knot behind, severe ly fastened with yellow horn comb ; her chin protruded little, her black eyes stared and snapped and generally expressed themselves in pungent way; /; and her tongue her tongue it was as untiring, as restless, as noisy, but by no means so useful. as 8 nail machine. She had very little patience and very little charity, but under her snappy way, her rapid judgments, her curt de- cision, lay thoroughly honest and kind heart, which she was ashamed to show.
 " Well, now, Nancy" said her com panion, Mrs. Burnell, who had stepped in for neighborly visit. "You know you're kinder arbitrary, you always was, and you do like to speak in meet in whether there's 8 congregation or not, you always did; but I will say fort, your bark's worse'n your bite, I"-
 Here Mrs. Beers knocked at the door. "Come in l" shouted Miss Nancy, never stirring from her chair-a fragrant vio- lation of Strafford etiquette.
 "God-day, good-dayl Why, Mis- Bunnell, how be you? I haven't seen you for quite spell; and how do you get along, Mis- Nancy?"
 "So's to be crawlin'," snapped the spinster, glaring straight at the round, placid, smiling little figure of the Widow Beers, who sat down in the nearest rocker, and put pretty little basket on the floor by her side. "Well, you do look real spry; I'm glad to see ye so we'll. And you're usually well, I see, Mis- Bunnell. I fetched around a few apples off'n my Astrykan tree to Soph- rony Jones ; she's real miser'ble."
 "Serves her right" broke in Miss Nancy. "What did she go'n' marry a shif'less, low-lived feller like 'Lish Jones for? She might ha' known that them that makes brier beds for them selves has to lie on thorns."
 "Well, she seems to think consider able of him; I guess he's pretty good to her s'fur as he knows how to be-"
 "H'm [ his goodness won't go no further'n hen-hop," sniffed Miss Nancy.
 "And seein' I was a-comin' this way" placidly went on Mrs. Beers, "I thought I'd fetch a few on lem to you. I rek'lect you set by apples good deal"
 "I'm obleeged to ye," said Miss Nancy, still curt and decisive, but not quite so fierce.
 "Hadn' you better set 'em into the buttery, Nancy" suggested Mrs. Bun nell, looking unconscious of pun, but Miss Nancy glared at her with honest wrath.
 Mrs. Beers began again in her mild way. "They do say, up to the Centre, that Parson Styles is laid up with g dreadful spell O quinsy."
 "I guess he caught cold over to the Ma'sL's weddin'," suggested Mrs. Bun. nell. "It did pour down I come ove1 to-day half to see how you stood it. Nancy"
 "Stood what?
 "Why, gettin' home from Mis- Ma'sh's house a-Tuesday evenin'; ths weddin', ye know"
 "I hain't been to no weddin'; heI Desiah Mash made goose O herself tc her time O life ?"
 "Why, nol mercy sakes' no! Why I expected you knowed it; twas Jane. -Janey Tryon an Sam Phelps. s'posed, of course, seein' you was he aunt, you'd fetch around to see he married"
 Miss Nancy was crimson with rage Jane Tryon an Sam Phelps I gues not told her 8 year back eff I eve heerd of one O them Phelps boys a shinin' up to her, she needn't neve look to me for no settin' out. San Phelps of all created critters, b'liev them Phelpses is the meanest."