Staunton vindicator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1860-1896, 1882-04-21
A DOUBLE MISTAKE.

"a letter for you, Aunt Thankful"
A bright young face, like a CLEAN OF
April sunshine, flashed into the room
where Miss Thankful Moore sat knitting
a pretty, girlish face, with saucy dimple
in either cheek, and merry sparkle in her
laughing eyes. A mammoth blue-check
apron, much too large for her, quite en-
veloped her slender form. and both sleeves
| were fastened up above the elbows, dis
| playing two plump, snowy white arms, the
sight of which would have sent thrills of
envy to the heart Of any ballroom belle.
clay it on the table, child, and 60 back
| to your mornings work"
''Who do you suppose it's from2" ques-
toned the girl, turning the letter over, and
viewing the superscription curiously.
s'I7ll see soon's ever knit to the seam
| needle l make it a pint never to lay
| things aside all IN muddle, no matter
what happens"
The girl colored consciously.
s'Oh, that everlasting seam-needle! l
believe sometimes you knit past it just to
keep me waiting"
"Harriet!''
Miss Thankful never used this name in
addressing her niece except when extreme
ly displeased. Slowly and carefully she
folded her work, sticking the needles firm
| ly and securely into the ball; then wipiDg
her spectacles an unnecessary length Of
time on the spotless apron, she adjusted
them to their proper position across her
nose, and took up the letter.
Meanwhile, Harriet had flown back to
the kitchen, where she gave vent to her
lmpatience by making great gathering
among the breakfast dishes.
''She's the dearest old auntie in the
world" she said, ''but she does try me so
with her awful precision. She'd like to
have me spend the rest of my lifs in the
unvarying routine of the old family clock
on the mantle yonder. But l can't; Pm
too full of life and activity. want some
thing new. and dearly as I love her, I'd
like change once ana awhile. And
Thankful and the old clock are exactly
alike. The tick, tick, tick of the clock.
and the click, click. click of her knitting
needles, are about the only sounds l hear.
except the occasional racket make just
by way of variation. The clock is a per-
feet model of accuracy and promptness;
so is she. They never make mistake or
60 wrong"
In the next room. Miss Thank full Moore
hoh ko11 ho 1otf
and had read it through twice before com
menting upon it. Then dropping it into
her lap her face assumed thoughtful ex-
preston, her eyes took on dreamy look
and no wonder. for she was gazing far back
into the past-full forty years.
"Strange, strange!" she murmured,
meditatively, ''that Mehetable should have
writ to me after all these years. She's
moved to Brambleville, lately, and wants
to renew our acquaintance, she says. On
ly twenty-five miles from here, an the
cars run right past her house, an mine;
too. Seems most like bein' neighbors.-
She's widow, poor thing an her children
all dead am gone but Nell. Well, well
haven't been called upon to pass through
them Affections, an reckon on the hull.
as how I'm contented as most O. my age.
I'm right glad that she hasn't any boys
Her Nell must be quite girl. Meheta-
ble's every bit as old as I am, an Nell's
her youngest, she said. wouldn't wond
or if she's about Hairless age. Dear me
how that girl does fret. She's SO lonesome.
don't knows blame her, either. was
young an clipper once myself. Mehetable
writ an invites me come and spend week
or two with her, couldn't think Of leav-
ing home for SO long time. Things would
60 to rack an ruin if l did. But 1t would
be real treat for Harrie, an I could run
down an stay a couple o. days when she's
ready to come home. If Mehetable's as
glib talker as she used to be, we can talk
up the past forty years in two days an not
half try. It's blessed thing that she's
only got daughter. If she had grown up
sons I'd never think O. letting Harrie 20;
for she is pretty, there's no denyin' that.
Yes, I'll answer Mehetable's letter right
off, an ask her If Harrie may come for a
week or two. It'll be a change for her, an,
like as not, she'll be more contented after
she gets home again.
X X
ga letter for you, mother, and the very
superscription is as good az photo of the
writer. I can imagine prim, dignihed
spinster of uncertain age, to whom the
least shadow of indecorum is an unpardon-
able sin. Mrs. Mehetabze Morton! Why,