Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1882-02-21
A bright. eloquent. blushing look

u
arms. Ii was pleasant to see the old
mans grim face break into smiles.
$50 you've come home at last,
child"
"rd have come long ago, dear father,
but Aunt Elinor wouldn't let me-"
As Jennie sat down by the great open
fireplace, her father looked her over
from head to foot. No one noticed the
look of his face as he turned away.
Jennie herself was very thoughtful,
aud sat gazing meditatively into the
open blaze, while her mother made the
tea and toasted bread on great pronged
fork.
Mrs. Ford was one of the few fond
Of old fashions, and chung to the old.
time way of doing things. She had
never been persuaded TO have cook
ing-stove, O modern bedstead, or
clothes-wringer.
All the freplaces at Wheatlands were
open, the bedsteads were high-posted,
piled with beds filed with fifty pounds
II live goose-festhers, sheets as white
as snow and smelling of lavender, and
patchwork quilts of the most elaborate
1esigns-
Every carpet and rug in the house
Mrs. Ford had made with her own
hands. She had in use china and
croekery which had been her mothers
and grandmother's. Nothing equaled
in her estimation their habits and
WAYS, and she had been suffered to per-
petuate them. though Jennie often
''wished her mother would have q
cooking-Stove;" and her husband, on
a summers night, often escaped from
the smothering embraces Of his feather.
bed and spent the night on the chintz'
covered lounge in the kitchen.
When Jennie had kissed her mother
and father goodnight that evening,
and silently carried to her pillow the
problem Of the mortgages foreclosure,
the father and mother sat silent before
the red embers OF the hearth. The old
mans elbows were upon his knees and
his face in his hands. BE uttered a
groan.
Gas il il wasn't enough to have
things going the way they are" he ex-
claimed, without having Jennie come
home with her hair in bangsl"
"why, father"
What sense is there in frizzling and
frowseliug her hair over her forehead
like that? It's the foolishest thing in
the worlll knew Elinor would spoil
her-I knew it from the frst!"
81 think il looks very pretty, father;
but"
ITO think daughter OF mine should
ever bang her hair :" groaned the poor,
gloomy man, as he rose, set his chair
back against the wall, and betook him
self disconsolately TO bed.
Il wonder il I'd better sneak to
Jennie about her hair?' unused Mrs.
Ford. at seems pity. Those little
curls, just Ike tendrils on the grape.
vines, make her forehead and eyes look
so pretty. ! guess won't, inst yet.
II does seem as though trouble was
making father dreadful cross-grained."
No complaint was made to Jennie OF
her bangs. She came down the next
morning With the same fringe Of little.
soft cutls above her pretty brows, but
Sith 4 broad Bingham apron tied owe.
her neat print wrapper; and she washed
the breakfast china, made brown bread
and pumpkin pies, made up the plump
feather beds. AID prepared dinner as
deity as If she were in total Ignorance
Of the fashions.
Mrs. Fold vas satisfied that Jennie
was not spoiled, if her father was not.
II Jennie had known of her fathers
disapproyal. 1t would have been hard
for her to have abandoned those objec-
tionable bangs, for some one else had
been especially pleased by Jennie's
adoption of the style.
Mr.. chester CHILDBIRTH was very ap-
preciative Of nice effects in the toilets
of ladies', and st last reports was still
undecided whether the loose tresses
made the deep fringed blue eyes 50
lovely or the pretty eyes made the little
curls so charming. The thought thrilled
Jennie's heart every time she looked
in the little mirror, and it would have
been actual cruelty to have deprived her
OF her bangs. Mr.. Chester Childbirth
seemed so far away-and though she
loved her home il was very bare Of ro-
nance and the refinements OF the sum-
mer which she had found so congenisi.
Hasn't anything done we'll ?" asked
Jennie, wiping the tea things with her
mother, and referring again to the mort
gage.
Nothing but the ounces, Jennie
They've borne wonderfully well this
year. NeMly two bushels apiece, and
there's fifty trees. But there isn't much
sale for ounces about here. l think
I'd better put up enough to last for
two years, and father will set what he
can for the rest OF them"
I'll lo~o Ia,o;a JropyaJ tba cpouv