The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1882-08-05
of course, what I thinks nothin' in this

The group at the table were silent;
only now and then saying a word OF two,
as they served each other.
Dolly felt the essential vulearity of all
family contentious, and, in general, she
answered nothing to Aunt Sally's foolish
TRADES, which were much more frequent
in Mr.. Browns absence. q.
George Sterling left the room as
quickly as he could, and Dolly followed
him to the piazza, where they talked a
minute over what had best be done.
George will drive down to S.
and see what he can do with the butter.''
Dolly said, as she returned to the kitchen.
But Aunt Sally deigned no reply. She
rose and walked into the more Genteel
part OF the house and was not seen again
for several hours. The occasional slam
ming of doors and windows testified to
her existence.
In the afternoon George returned, and
told Dolly that he could contract the but
ter for but twenty-five cents. The
markets were full for few DAYS: but
her father 5 friends had advised him to
wait little, as they thought it would be
up to thirty cents again.
Several days passed and the question
of butter was sill unsettled. Dolly was
busy with her work, hardly getting
minute to peep into the new Harper
which George had brought from the
post-office. One day she put two of her
delicious custard pies into the oven to
bake, and then went upstairs for few
minutes to make beds. Aunt Sally.
meanwhile, walked into the kitchen,
which she found "cold as a barn.
built up hot fire, and sat down by the
stove. When Dolly returned, she smelt
Strong odor of burning pastry, and,
opening the oven-door, found, that her
pies were completely ruined.
"Why, Aunt Sally" said she, "didn't
you smell my pies burningP"
"Smell umn' returned Aunt Sally.
"No, l didn't, N l shant smell nothin'
more till the buffers sold" And she
marched off into the sitting-room as
though her dignity had been offended.
What a pity Dickens didn't know
Aunt Sally" thought Dolly, as she went
about making some more pies.
Mr.. John Sterling, Georges father,
always sent away his butter to a certain
city firm, whose chief member had, as
boy, been brought up in the family of
John Sterling's father. The Sterling's
knew the firm well and knew that it was
trustworthy. George, therefore, suggest
ed to Dolly that he write to his fathers
friend, Mr.. Furness, and ask his advice
about the butter they had to sell.
He wrote, and in a short time letter
came, advising the Browns to send their
butter on. 1t would surely net them
twenty-eight cents and perhaps thirty.
Mr.. Furness promised to do the best he
could.
The matter was talked over with Aunt
Sally, and, after much tribulation all the
tubs, with their golden weight, were put
into the cars and sent to the city. The
day on which it was carried out of the
yard Aunt Sally's final blast was as fol-
lows: g There! That butter IL never
come back, m shouldn't wonder a mite
# the money never did; m who's goin'
to pay for the freight m tear m old
Harry n all on it. I'd like to know?'
Half of Aunt Sally's predictions proved
true. The Browns never did see their
butter again; but they saw twenty-nine
cents for each pound.
Aunt Sally thought that the social de-
graduation resulting from getting one cent
a pound less than their nearest neighbors
ought to make every one of the Browns
utterly ashamed, and the number of
things the family would actually suffer
for because they had lost twelve dollars
was astounding.
About the middle of November Mr..
Brown returned, bringing with him his
sister, woman of kind heart and strong
character.
Before week had gone by, Dolly felt
that the burden of her daily life was
much lighter with Aunt Elizabeth to
cheer and help her. She found more
leisure to assist her young brother in his
studies and to read her own dearly loved
books and magazines.
The winter, with its long, cosy even
ings and its merry sleigh-rides, was over
before they had enjoyed it half enough,
Dolly thought, and the birds were sing
ing again among the trees that shaded
the house. The old butternut tree be-
hind the long row of barns had large,
handsome leaves once more.
One Sunday afternoon Dolly took a
book and went to sit in the shade of the
old tree, just as she had often done ever
since she was little girl. The book
was John Halifax, Gentleman" and
somehow, as she read and became more
and more interested in the character of
the hero, she was startled to find herself
thinking of George Sterling. The tones
of voice she read of the kind, searching
eyes; the erect, firm bearing -she knew
them all. They were near her. They
had often quietly cheered and strength
ened her.
A slight noise from the stone wall OPP
posite made her look up. There were
the very eyes, looking straight into hers.
"Why, George! How came you herep"
"I've been home, and came back
across the fields. Its only three miles,
you know, coming across. You looked
perfectly happy as L come up. What
are you readingp'
John Halifax" answered Dolly.
'tDo you know the bookP"
Eyes, WE'LL and I'm glad you're read
ing it, -.
"Why? Will it help me to make
nicer butterp''
That's Just it. After person reads
it, he feels that he's got to do his best in
whatever work he's called to, and help