The Vancouver independent. (Vancouver, W.T. [Wash.]) 1875-1910, 1882-03-23

the fire had gone out. don't believe, If
live to be 100 years old, shall ever
feel more perfectly helpless in any hui
man emergency than did at that mo-
ment. I think if the earth had opened
and engulfed me with the pasty spots
and the yellow dish and the dirty coffee
pot and the stained floor and that wretch
ed piece of meat, my first sensations
would have been those of profound graft
tude.
As an earthquake refused to come to
my relief, resolved that would rise to
the occasion, or die in the effort. To
the shed l went, and returned, armed
with fresh supplies of fuel. 1t was a
work of ten minutes to rekindle the fire !;
a work of ten more to cut off and curtail
that meat, to suit the dimensions of the
yellow dish; and putting on the upper
crust as quickly as possible, l showed it
into the open oven, just as the clock on
one church steeple struck the hour of
noon. Charlie sometimes delayed his re-
turn an hour or more.
"Oh if somebody would break leg,
or dislocate his neck" I laughed to my
self. "Oh, if the sun would only stand
still in the heavens
The meat pie, temporarily off my
hands, remembered that Mollie served
vegetables with her meat pies.
"Anybody can wash potatoes" cried
as kind of prop to my sinking spirits;
Eyes, anybody can wash potatoes, and
anybody not natural fool can boil them.
There is the remains of loaf of bakers
bread in the house, and butter, and jars
of canned fruit, always to be relied upon,
and for dessert, 1 will have oranges and
apples" There was kind of sauce to
the meat pie, but would use melted
butter instead. Oh, l was fertile in my
| resources.
Whatever shall I do, with this
kitchen?' / cried, looking around, and
thinking that one glance at it, would
strike Mollie insane.
The litter from my kindlings covered
the floor around the stove, whose usually
polished surface was grimed and smoked
with burnt coffee; upon the table lay the
remains of the beef, dripping down its
side, and all over the floor, we're the
marks of beef's blood, and yolks Of eggs
and flour paste. The pantry door which
stood open, revealed the dresser in per-
feet confusion from the various unwashed
dishes which I had pressed into my
service. In the sitting-room the CRATE
was filed with the remains of charre1
cinders, and dead ashes of the last even
ing's fire. Dust everywhere and huge
spiders web, woven through the night,
dangled from the ceiling.
"Oh,, for q thousand pairs of hands" 1
cried. "Talk of heroes! talk of martyrs!
talk of Joan of Arc!"
| A little ring at the front door capped
the climax of my misery! Ny sweeping
cap was all askew, there was a great yell
low spot on my dress, and my nose
looked as if it had been dipped into the
-four barrel. All this noticed with a
kind of fiendish delight as I glanced at
myself in the mirror on my way to the
door. / stopped moment to shake my
fist at the untidy image.
"You are nothing but great failure
anyway" said by way of emphasis;
"you are complete failure, you are an
unmitigated humbug and you deserve to
be Inundated, and you shall be" and I
threw open the door frantically.
A woman's sweet face shaded, or
framed in, by the most lovely puffs Of
soft brown hair Just filed in here and
there with a suspicion. of gray, met mine
q soft gray dress OF some clinging mate
rial that made the wearer look as if she
had fioated down from the sky in veil
of grey mist, and somehow gave me the
kind of feeling that / was Abraham 3
wife Sarah, who had q vision of angels
and was about 10 be censured for my un-
belief. (Somehow always think of poor
Sarah, Just then, as standing behind the
door with faded blue dress on, and q
slit in the back took in all this pic
ture in kind of blank wonderment till
met the eyes looking into mine with an
expression of surprise that quickly
changed to roguish twinkle, and then
| it all came to me. This was the middle
Of the week, and this was Aunt Orpha.
| "Oh, know who you are; you are
Charles poem and my revelation"
gasped. 1--WE have got the smallpox and
we haven't thing fit to eat in the house,
but do come in"
believe she thought was crazy; for
she hesitated just the least till ! took her
little gray gloved hand and drew her in
eide, gray mist. suspicion OF sachet pow
der and all, and shut the door.
And that was the way Aunt Orpha
came to us; and we never could let her
60 again.
But oh, 1 wish you could have seen
that meat pie when I took it from the
oven.
PRArsEwoRraY.-A new and very com.
mendable departure from the usual
routine Of school management was re-
---xV-7--n A. ..~svar-awu - .