The Colfax chronicle. [volume] (Colfax, Grant Parish, La.) 1877-1981, 1881-02-19
A HINT FOR THE THOUGHTLEss,

treated with mucn courtesy Dy tne resi-
dents. One day she called upon lady
whose home was new and who had just
returned from Europe. The room into
which she was shown breathed of ele-
gance and refinement in all its appoint
ments. The soft Turkish mats toned the
inlaid floor; the rich and costly draper
les were from Oriental lands and the
upholstery was in harmony with them.
. The walls were hung with gems Of art
from the Old World, some of which were
fine copies of earth's masterpieces, and
on the etagere lay trifies that were no
trifles, but spoke of Pompeii, Cyprus,
Egypt, Babylon and the Holy Land.
The opening gave birds eye view of
richly stored library whose home and
used look told of the culture of the home
circle. And beyond this was conserv-
atory that perfumed all the air.
Z" Your home is quite perfect" said
Mrs. Edwards.
- Thanks. To me it is, and Mr.. Ad-
ans told me yesterday that / have the
finest parlor in the State. / like the
praise of man of his taste and cult
ure"
"You may. indeed"
"Would you like to go over the
houseP'
Mrs Edwards knew Mrs. Writ liked
to show her house, and. too, she her
self liked to see elegance, and new
things, and old-so old they are new
again, and said truly: I" / would be
very happy to-"
From room to room they went, each
fitted for its intended use, each well
nigh perfect even to the critic eye. On
one bed were finely embroidered pillow
shams and sheet-top.
ss Partisan workl" said Mrs. Edwards.
.. Will you believe they were done
here, and by playmate Of my child
hoodP" r
:" Indeed! by whomr" H
"Mrs. johnson. You'venever heard
of herP"
"No, / never have"
" She has quite history. Let us rest
q little and will tell you of it. -
Sinking into stuffed easy-chair, Mrs.
Edwards listened to the story, Of which
this is the substances:
:" Mrs. johnson was q pretty, sweet
tempered child. and grew up the belle
of the town, and she used to wear the
incest embroideries of any of the girls
the work of her own hands. She mar
ried merchant Of the town, and all
thought she had done well. But it was
in the days when every storekeeper kept
liquor. and he not only kept it but
drank 1t, and led her q sorry life; but
she never told any one, until it became
too apparent to be concealed. He died
miserably poor. Her early friends
bought q little home for her, aud she
had supported herself by nice sewing"
Mrs. Edwards wished some embroid-
cry, and told Mrs. Writ, if Mrs. John
son were not sewing for her, she would
like to secure her for time.
81 always keep her in work, so that
she never can need it. But it is only
plain sewing now, and that can be laid
aside any time, when she can have
other work. will be happy to have
her embroider for you, for It is work
she likes best; and it pays her best"
IL wish there were more ladies like
you, Mrs. Writ"
Thanks. often wish I were bet
ter"
Mrs. Johnson's was little handbook
of house, but in refinement rival of
Mrs. Writ ssemi- palace. The hard walls
were white, and they were white, and
spotless too, but the glare was deadened
by long ivy festooned and twined with
irregular grace and many nice engrav-
ing or friendly photograph peeped out
amid the green leaves.
Mrs. johnson, though forty-seven, I
was extremely pretty. Her slightly
gray hair curled and waved naturally
about pure white forehead, and her
clear eye was almost childlike in its tint
of deep, dark blue. As one looked in
to their serene depth, one could not
realize they had been the home of tears.
But the placid smile was not that of
one whose life had been y sunny day,
but of one one whose life was hid with
Christ in God, one whose walk is so
above earth that its trials are felt only
rs Heaven sent for needed preparation
before the mortal can put on immortal
ity.
Her simple cambria dress fitted neat
ly, and her collar. cuffs and apron were
OF polished wilderness. Her voice was
smooth and sweet. but clear and pleas
ant and her manner and conversation
were lady-like and simple.
Mrs, Edwards: spoke Of her beautiful
ivy.
It, is fifteen years old and q great
pleasure to me. Hove to wash its pol
ished leaves, as the mother washes the
face OF her child"
Is It gives charm to your room.m
- II doaa indaad IN mo 49,