The Brookhaven leader. [volume] (Brookhaven, Miss.) 1883-1891, 1883-11-29
THE WRONG SUNDAY.
A True Story.

1t was very quiet at the old farm.
For the first time in their lives, the
young people, four grown-up girls, had
gone away together to stay week. Al
home, they generally kept things astir,
in the way OF fun and frolic, from morn
ing till night. Something ought to
happen," they said to each other,
when father and mother are left alone,
something funny" Look out, faith
err cried Bessie, gayly, as they were
leaving. keep hold of the almanac,
or you may lose the day of the week.
So Deacon Stearns and Mrs. Stearns
settled down for a quiet spell. They
could hardly remember that such a
time ever came to them before. Even
the hired man had gone home. The
deacon remarked: ''Wife, I'll finish
that history, and add up my yearly ac-
counts. We shan't have such racket
now
She replied: Ill finish drawing in
my mat There II 5e time to turn off a
good many things"
This was Tuesday. Wednesday morn
ing he said: 1T beats all how we miss
those girls. How do you stand it, moth
er? l believe it's going to snow"
Her answer was: "Well, | think
women have so many things to do they
don't mind being lonely as much as
men. If the children only get back
safe, it's all I'll ask"
The storm came on Thursday, fast
and furious, with raging winds, piling
up huge drifts, and rolling along banks
for children to tunnel. Inside, every
thing was peaceful in the dear old sit
ting-room, and so still. The deacon
heaped up the wood in the open fire
place, where the flames roarcd. as if to
show that the elements in doors were
equal to those without. Then he went
to sleep over his Prescott, and she
nodded over her mat The old dog
looked round occasionally to see if they
We're still alive; and the cat sat up and
washed her face, in order to keep some
thing moving. Thus the short day
wore on to another night.
Nor is it to be wondi red at that with
the quiet and the storm, and the going
to bed early, somehow this worthy
couple lost day, and awoke next morn
ing with the firm conviction that it was
Saturday instead of Friday.
L
.a-soak last night" said Mrs. Stearns;
but suppose can boil them longer
this morning"
"And l must look out for the brick
oven, and see to the Fireplace logs for
over Sunday" said Deacon Stearns, as
he unlocked the door.
At night it was still showing; but the
Sunday baking was all in and ready to
come out hot the next mOrning-the
beans, brown bread and sweet-apple
pudding. Besides, there were a whole
pan of apple puffs, brown and flaky, in
the pantry, a jar of doughnuts and oak
leaf cookies.
The next morning was clear and cold.
The sun shone and the snow was deep
and smooth. No one had appeared in
the street to dissipate their notion that
the day was Sunday.
"Wife," said the deacon, as he came
IN to breakfast, 1.-THE snow is pretty
deep; and the drifts will be high below
Mace's. What do you say to staying
at home from meeting to-dayP Can't
we manage to keep Sunday by our
selves?n
Now, the deacon's wife was one of
ire best women in the world; but she
dld Ike, sometimes, quiet Sunday at
home. Being very, conscientious, she
seldom allowed herself such luxury.
Her face wore smile of satisfaction as
She spoke: 1T would be hard for the
horse to stand out. Didn't he go a
little lame the other day? hope we
shan't set bad example to our new
nIelghbors, but as you think best, hus-
band"
Toward noon, she took her Bible and
sat down at the south window. She
could hardly believe her eyes. There
went by a load of wood, and another
and still another!
Taking advantage of this snow for
Shedding, what shame! 1t looks like
Mr.. Fosters man, too"
There came knock at the door. A
man asked for something to eat. The
deacon was in the barn, but she would
not refuse meal and shelter. "Be-
SIDES, she thought, 81 can talk to him
about keeping Sunday" She seated
MN by the kitchen fire with a plate of
provisions and cup of hot coffee.
Are you travelling far?"
for works.
you don't look for work Sunday,
'Wel, don't know what I'll do to-
comes"
fFPnox ha.+Lo~ ,, L. :l A. LII