The Wellington enterprise. [volume] (Wellington, Ohio) 1867-188?, 1881-12-14
\ NEEDLE AND THREAD.

It happened so-precisely So
As all their friends and neighbors know.
5 NEEDLE AND THREAD.
g st.An old bachelorP'' said Honora
haywood. ' 2. ha''i l9S %
"That's what he told me, Just In so
many words," said Mrs. Pennypacker,
who stood on the threshold of her best
room, with her head tied up in pocket
handkerchief, and hair-broom in her
hand, wherewith she gesticulated, after
tragic fashion, as she talked, while
Miss haywood, tall and slender as q
wild lily, stood in the hall, with a roll of
music under her arm, and her slight
figure wrapped in shabby black shawl.
Sand he's willing to pay my price, cash,
every Sunday night. Never attempted
to beat me down a penny, If you'll be-
ieve it, my dear" .e7f.
she drinks only English breakfast
tea, and he wants his pie-crust made
with the best Alderney butter, instead of
lard, as is good enough for the other
people; and he must have ventilators to
all the windows, and an open CRATE, in
stead of the base burning stove; and-I
hope you'll not be offended, my dear
but he particularly dishkes piano"
"Dislikes pianop" said the little
music-teacher, reddening in spite of her.
self. ifai s.-.s -
Sand he says, says he: Il hope, Mrs.
Pennypacker, that there is no piano in
the house. A piano, says he, plays the
deuce with my nervous system, with its
everlasting tum, tum!' These were his
words, my dear. So my dear, I'd be
S,e, Il l..
practicin' until he's out for his daily
walk-from one to three, just as regular
as the clock. " -" q sf'
Miss haywood looked piteously up in
the landlady's face. D.
al will do anything to oblige you,
Mrs. Pennypacker, she said, earnestly.
SCI have not forgotten how much ] am
indebted to you, both In actual money,
and in kindness, which money can never
repay" @ 7si'eb s le5 =.
"My dear, don't say a word, {" said
Mrs. Pennypaeker, hastily. You've
been sick, and you've got q little be-
hindhand, and it's quite natural you
should be low spirited now and then.
But you mustn't get discouraged. And
you're quite welcome to stay on here,
until you're able to settle up your little
account" ....s
Honora haywood sighed as she
thought how often her little advertise
ment had been inserted in the daily
newspapers, without attracting the least
notice from the world of patrons and
pupils. There were so many I" capable
music teachers, willing to give lessons at
moderate prices" nowadays, and how
was anyone to know how sorely she
needed the money! ged 81 ~ tI.,-s1
Hi And, as the time crept on and no pu-
pills came, Honora began to ask herself
seriously whether she should go out in
some menid capacity, or stay genteedy
at home and starve. .-57 ~. lt7s
"Clothes, ma'am."
Honora started from her reverie as
the washerwoman's stumpy little girl
banged herself, like human battering-
ram, up against the door, with pre-
posterously large basket on her arm.
ssYes,, said Honora, coloring. ssPut
z them down, Sally. But I'm afraid
it isn't convenient to pay your mother
to-day"
Smother didn't say nothin' bout the
pay" said Sally, wiping her forehead
with whisk of her hand. "I was to
leave the clothes, with her tumble duty,
and she 'oped they'd suit; but it was
that damp on Monday and Tuesday as
starch wouldn't stick. And she 'opes
you'll excuse all mistakes, as they II be
done better next time"
al dare say they are quite right" +"
said Honora, with q little sigh, as she
marveled at this unexpected access of
courtesy on the part of her Milesian
laundress.
But when Sally had stumped off down
stairs, her Tapping slippers beating a
sort of tattoo as she went, Miss May
wood took off the fringed towel that
covered that basket of clothes, and gave
a little start.
"Shirts," said Honora, ssand socks,
and turnover collars No. 16, and great
big pocket-handkerchiefs, like the sails
of ship, and white vests, and goodness
me, what does it all meanp Mrs Mulvey
has sent me some gentleman's s wardrobe
by mistake. I must send these things
back at once"
But then Miss haywood looked down
at the articles thoughtfully.
''I never had brother,n unused Miss
haywood, "and can'tremember my
father; but of this am quite certain
if had either one or the other, / should
thank any girl to mend their dilapidat-
ed wardrobes, if they looked like this.
And Mrs. Mulvey can't send before
night, and unfortunately I've nothing to
do, so III just mend this poor young
fellows clothes, whoever he may be. a
half-starved theological student, per-
haps, training for the Polynesian ISL
ands; or, perhaps newspaper report
er, or pale clerk, under the sky1ight
of some dry-goods house. At all events
he is worse off than am, for he can not
mend his own clothes, and can"
And the smiles dimpled around
Honora Maywood's little rosebud of
mouth, as she sat down to darn holes,
sew on tapes, and insert patches.
He'll never know who did it." said
Honora to herself, s'but dare say he'll
be thankful; and if one can't get q
chance to do little good in this world,
one ought not to grudge ones time and
nouble.n i
And as Honora stitched away, she
mused sadly whether or not she ought |
to accept position which had offered
itself of assistant matron in an orphan |
asylum, where the work would be al !
most uncomfortable, and the pay next to |
nothing, with no Sundays nor holidays,
and ladies' committee, consisting of |
three starched old maids, to sssitn upon |
her the first Friday in every month.
ssI almost think I'd rather starve,n -
said Honora. s'But dear me! starving
is serious business, when one comes to
consider it face to face.
Sally Mulvey came back, putting and