Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1882-04-11
GaIes a1lo Skelfkes.
JUDGED.
By ROSE TERRY COOK.

L
they sat together at funeral, in the pause
that followed the religious services. and
allow the neighbors to file silently by the
coffin and look at the stern features Of the
dead, settled now into that dumb and
wonderful repose unknown to life or sleep.
SWELL, ! expect she he'd" said Miss
Eunice- nodding her rusty black bonnet at
the widows.
''She was a master hand to tell her
Judgements all abroad, too; she didn't
make no bones about sayin' what she
thought of folks. be they who they may"
'.Well, dono as that's what / meant.
I was thinkin' about her faculty for house.
work and sech. You never see no poor
bread, nor no soft pickles, nor no worked
preserves to her house seemed as though
she knew Jest the identical minute cream
had riz all it would, or bread had rose
jest right"
There would have been more than one
echo to Miss Eunice's characterization of
the departed Mrs. Weeks, if the unspoken
had been the spoken thoughts of several
whe had viewed the corpse" az country
phrase had it, and wondered in themselves
what sort OF atmosphere in the accepted
idea Of Heaven would suit the OUTCOME
soul, or which Of the "many mansions"
would be congenial home for the rigid
spirit earthly companions had never snit-
ed. Let US record one of her "judg-
ments."
When Mary Prince married Augustus
Barber and settled down to her life in
Barton. she knew Just what she was CON-
ing to; her husband was poor man, be-
ginning life as a dealer tn q small way in
-four and feed. Her preparations had
been simple and inexpensive, for she was
not able to spend money freely. being
poor minister's daughter. Augustus had
meant TO stndy for the ministry, but his
health failed; active life was perempt0ri-
ly ordered for him, and in the clear air of
Barton he had become we'll again and
comparatively strong. Both he and Mary
took an active part in the SUNDAY school,
and made friends as naturally and as east
ly as two bright. kindly people will in an
ordinary New England village.
Mrs. Deacon Weeks was a widow; her
patient. excellent husband had been dead
five years. But she was woman of DOM
inant temper and critical disposition, and
magnified her husbands Office, even after
he laid 1t down, into needful supervision
Of her neighbors and their affairs, particu-
larly If they were members of the church.
Now, Mary Barber had relations who
were wealthy and generous, and often
gave her presents of articles they knew
very well she could not buy, and she ac-
cepted them with the meekness and graft
tude necessarily educated into the children
of those laborers in the ministry who are
never paid their due hire. and so have 10
take gifts of charity. But Mrs. Weeks
knew nothing about Mr.. or Mrs. Barber, |
except that they were poor. When a
cousin, just going into mourning for her
father. sent to Mary the pretty silks. soft
cashmeres and black lace hat wreathed
with pansies. for which she had no further |
use, they came to the little woman as a
real God-send. "Oh, Gus ~ said she. |
''look here! see what Georgy has sent
me! Now shall not have to buy dress
for two years at the very least. | can just |
shorten all the dresses, for we could al |
ways wear each others things but for
their length. and have not even a sum- |
mer bonnet to buy. my last years straw
will do nicely for common wear"
Mr.. Barber, like most men. liked to see
his pretty wife well dressed; they had
been married two years now; the trous-
seau was getting worn and little dingy
the black silk needed trimming again. for
its cheap fringe was alIe adv rusty, and
Mary knew very well that there was no
spare money to renew even the ornaments
Of her scanty wardrobe, much less the
gowns themselves; but here, on quiet
gray silk, was black lace enough laid over
the knife plaitings to trim all her old silk
afresh. and the plaitings satisfied her taste
without lace above them; and very fair
and elegant she looked in that gray dress,
fitting her perfectly. as it did. with gloves
and parasol to match 1t. and the little
French bonnet set on ner waves of gold
brown hair.
But Mrs. Weeks glared at her across the
old Westinghouse with indignant eyes and
at the ''noOn-spell'' prayer-meetng made
long and loud petition that the "young
members" might be rebuked and convinced
Of the sin of pampering the lust of the
eyes and the pride of life; that they
might deny themselves of such extrava-
gance and finery in regard to the
poor. perishing body as made scandal in
the church, and come out and be separate
from sinful world. Mary Barber. Just
invited to join this select assembly. which
always met during intermission at Widow
Brooks house. wondered who Mrs.
Weeks was praying at. tor that her Pc
tition had a personal application was only
too evident; after her first serene satisfac-
ton at being well-dressed once more. and
her shy joy in her husbands admir- ,tion.
Mary had not thought again of her dress.
To tell the truth, 1t was far less in her
mind than the frayed fringe of her black
silk would have been, or the faded aspect
Of her lilac muslin. But she asked no
question, of course, and went her WAY
home to get her husband his piece of pie,
the substitute for II o'clock dinner that
made Sunday day of rest. Mrs. Brooks.
however, was not so injurious. and while
three or four women fingered to eat their
lunch in her kitchen. one of them also de-
tanning Mrs. Weeks to ask some questions
about mutual relative, the widow came
forward with a smirk, and said. You
seemed TO be real reused up in prayer to-
day, Mis- Weeks, as though there was y
concern on your mind. now didn't We %
''Well, did," answered Mrs. Weeks.
with solemn brevity.
II thought so," sighed Mrs. Brooks.
but with instructive tact asked no more.
There was a sort of expectsnt pause,
curious eyes regarding her. Mrs. Weeks
felt that she was expected to explain: that