The Rock Island Argus. (Rock Island, Ill.) 1877-1885, 1882-04-22
NEEDLE AND THREAD.

- 'sAn old bacheler?n inquired Honora
Haywood. "Are you very sure that he
is an old bachelorP''
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 a pocket
handkerchief, and hair-broom in her
hand, wherewith she gesticulated, after
a 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 a shabby black shawl.
'tAnd he's willing to pay my price, cash,
every Sunday night. Never attempted
to beat me down penny, If you'll be-
ieve it, my dear. He drinks only En-
glish breakfast tea, and he wants his
pie crust made with the best Attorney
butter, instead of lard, as is good enough
for other people; and he must have VEN
tilators to all the windows, and an open
CRATE, instead of the base-burning stove;
and-I hope you'll not be offended, my
dear-but he particularly dislikes 3
piano."
..Dislikes q piano?'' said the little
music teacher, reddening in spite of her.
self. 5a-A
''And he says, says he, i 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, tumr These were his
words, my dear. So, my dear, I'd be
gratefulif you wouldn't mind doing your
practicing until he's out for his daily
wa1k-from one to three, Just as regular
as the clock.
Miss Maywood looked piteously up in
the landlady's face.
Il will do anything to oblige you. Mrs.
Pennypacker,' she said earnestly. 81
have not forgotten how very much I am
indebted to you. both in actual money,
and in kindness, which money can new
er repay" -s ~
.'My dear, don't say word" said
Mrs. Pennypacker, hastily. you've
been sick, and you've got little behind
hand, and it's quite natural you should
be little low spirited now and then.
But you must not get discouraged. And
| you're quite welcome to stay on here
| until you're able to settle up your little
| account
Honora Haywood sighed as she thought
how often her little advertisement had
| been inserted in the daily newspapers
| without attracting the least notice from
the world of patrons and pupils. There
| were so many capable music teachers,
willing to give lessons at moderate
prices" nowadays, and how was any
one to know how very much she needed
the money?
And, as time crept on and no pupils
came, Honora began to ask herself serl-
ous1y whether she should go out in some
mental capacity, or stay genteelly al
home and starve.
Clothes, ma am"
Honora started from her revery as the
washerwoman's stumpy little girl bang
ed herself, like human battering-ram,
up against the door, with preposter-
| ously large basket on her arm.
Eyes, said Honora, coloring. Put
them down, Sally. But TIN afraid
| it isn't convenient for me to pay your
| mother to-day
..Mother didn't say nothing bout the
pay" said Sally, ''she said was to
leave the clio thes, with her tumble duty,
| and she 'oped they'd suit; but it was
starch wouldn't stick. And she 'opes
you'll excuse all mistakes, as they ii be
| done better next tine.7'
| II dare say they are quite right,
| said Honora, as she marvelled at this un-
expected access of courtesy on the part
| of her Milesian laundress.
But when Sally had stumped off down
| stairs, her Tapping slippers beating 8
sort of tattoo as she went, Miss May
wood took off the fringed towel that
| covered that basket of clothes, and gave
| q little start.
Shirts said Honora. <sand socks,
| and turnover collars No. IS. and great
big pocket handkerchiefs, like the sails
| of a ship, and white vests, and good
| ness me, what does it all mean? Mrs.
Mulvey has sent me some gentleman {
wardrobe by mistake. / must send these
things back at once"
But then Miss haywood looked dowz
at the articles thoughtfully.
Il never had BROTHER" unused Mist
haywood, land / can't remember my
father; but of this am quite certain-ii
I had either one or the other, should
thank any girl to mend their dilapidateG
wardrobes, if they looked like this. And
Mrs Mulvey can't send before night, ane
unfortunately I've nothing to do, SO III
Just mend this poor fellow clothes
whoever he may be. a half starved
theological student, perhaps, training
for the Polynesian Islands; or, perhaps
a newspaper reporter, or pale clerk
under the skylight of some dry goods
| house. At allevents he is worse off thar
/ am for hecannot mend his own clothes
and Lean
And the smiles dimpled around Ho-
! nora Maywood's little rosebud OF 9
| mouth, as she sat down to darn holes
sew on tapes, and insert patches.
Hell never know who did it, saic
| Honora to herself, 'sbut I dare say he'll
be thankful; and il one can get a chanct
to do little good in this world, HI
ought not to grudge ones time ane
/ trouble
/ And as Honora stitched away, sht
unused sadly whether or not she ough
| to accept a position which had Offered
Itself OF assistant matron in an orphan
asylum, where the work would be al
/ most uncomfortable, and the pay next Il
nothing. with no Sundays or holidays
| and ladies' committee, consisting q
three starahcl old maids, to .ssit' upor
/ her the iisstsF friday of esTery month.
II almost think i sfstarve.n said Ho
nora. sIsut dear mel starving is sefi.
Gus business, when one comes tosconsid
/ err it faceto face.
Sally M.iIvey came back. putting AMI
| blowing like o human whale, In abou
i two heJltrs.