Gloucester County Democrat. (Woodbury, N.J.) 1878-1932, 1883-03-29
A USELESS CREATURE.

A ROMANCE OF HOUSE-CLEANING.
Is she coming to visit you?" said
Eric Hale, with slight grimace, 'that
simpering fine lady, with useless white
hands and the shallow little society
laugh? Oh, Aunt Della, pack my port
manteau, and let me be off on a lee
turing tour, until Flora Lees visit
comes to an end y
Mrs. Dove looked little disap-
pointed. To confess the truth, she had
especially arranged this visit with ref
erence to her nephew, Eric.
"He's fine young fellow" she had
said to herself, with true feminine di-
plomacy. "with an excellent parish
and fine prospects and it's high time
he was settled in life with wife. And
I think Flora Lee would suit him ex-
actly."
And here was the young man him
self upsetting this charming little cas-
tie in the air, without the least scruple
of conscience, like the modern ICON
oclast that he was.
swell, Eric" said Mrs. Dove, de-
spairingly, "I'll write to her not. to
come. OF course don't want to put
you out, just when you're so busy, too,
with that course Of lectures. But l
really thought Flora would make the
house lively"
"She's deal too lively to suit me-"
said Eric Hale. "Ask her to come in
June, when 1 shall be off to Omaha
and Nebraska on that conference bust
ness. But as for a visitor, 1 should
prefer little Polly Peppercorn's big
wax doll with the silk black hair and
staring black eyes that open and shut
by machinery
So Mrs. Dove, choking back the tears
OF disappointment, for she had been
nursing this pet scheme in secret for
long while, sat down and wrote let
ter to her friend, Miss Lee, postponing
the proposed sojourn at Cedar borough
farm until roses should be in bloom
and strawberries beginning to ripen.
Adonijah," said she to the hired
man, "take this letter to the post
Office
Yes, 'um," said Adonijah, and he
put it in his pocket and straightway
forgot all about it.
The carpets were up, the pals of
whitewash stood steaming in themid-
die Of the parlor floor, and Mrs. Dove
herself. with her gray curls tied up in
a yellow damask pocket-handkerchief,
which her great uncle mad brought
from China half century ago, sat
crying on the lower edge of step
ladder. For Betsy, the help, had
fallen down the cellar stairs and broken
her leg, and Mrs. Mulrony, the char
woman, had sent a message that her
eldest son had broken out "wid de
maizles, -speckled all over like a
shower Of red pepper, and sorra a bit
of clanin' could she undertake for until
the wakes over
1t was dismal, rainy morning in
April, the yellow jonquils beaten to the
ground; the very wild yiolets shutting
up their eyes as if in unmitigated dis
gust at the unpromising state of the
weather. Overhead racks of gray
clouds scudded across the heavens, and
the little sheet of silver lakelet under
the hill was dotted and dimpled all
over with falling rain, as if pierced
with thousand tiny javelins.
"It's no use trying" said Mrs. Dove;
plaintively, the fates themselves have
conspired against me!'
"And these three days Of all others,
sighed Mrs. Dove, when Eric has cx-
changed pulpits with Mr.. Washburnel
And he so dislikes house-cleaning
and"
dear me, Mrs. Dove, what is the
matter ?"
Mrs. Dove started to her feet with a
little scream-for there, exactly as if
she had been rained down out of the
gray zenith, stood Flora Lee herself in
trim brown travelling dress, with a
neat little handbag, gossamer water
proof cloak, and a silk umbrella.
~Why, Flora" cried she, chow came
you here?''
by the train, of course" said
Miss Lee, e and l walked from the
station"
II wrote you not tocome, said Mrs.
Dove, in CONSERVATION.
sBut never received any such let
ter,s said Miss Lee. "Shall go
again?'
~No, you darling, you shall do moth
ing Of the sort" said Mrs. Dove en-