The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1883-11-10

"And if you had, l wouldn't hav 'em a
fooling around here. Poor girls like
you had best attend to their work, and
if Providence wants them to marry, he'll
give 'em a chance. If not, they may
be sure they was meant for old maids,
and faint no use to fllrse about it."
"But don't want to be an old maid r'
pouted pretty Eustachia to herself, as
she baked and secured, MIXED and
churned, and did the chores.
That was before Mrs. Snapwell had
hired a man to do the work.
And now that Sy Hedges had come,
she wanted still less to be an old maid !;
for, somehow or other, in spite of the
widows hawk-eyed vigilance, there was
plenty of chances for conversation with
him.
1t was astonishing how many brands
he made to the kitchen in the course
of the day, to fill the wood-box and
the chip basket, or get drink with the
long handled gourd, that hung just over
the cedarwood bucket on the. kitchen
table.
And, somehow or other Eustachia's
cheeks had acquired cronic habit of
blushing on the most singular occasions.
The sound of quick footstep outside
the door, or gailywhistled tune from
the cornfeld or barnyard, would set
them to glowing under the dropping
lashes like whole garden-bed of car
nation pinks.
"Eustachia r'
Mrs. Snapwell shook out the hounces
of her new dress as she opened the door
of the kitchen, where her niece was
washing up the dinner dishes.
''I'm goin' over to Miss Deacon
Marjoram's, she continued, with sharp
glance at Eustachia's suspiciously rosy
cheeks. ''And if Mr.. Flowerdale should
come while I'm gone, show him into the
best room, and run over after me imme-
diately. Do you hear? And don't you
be a-trying to set your cap at him, for
he's Il well-to-do man, and wouldn't
even look at poor girl like you. Your
cheeks hev got so blowsy of late, you
look like fright anyhow"
The tears sprang to Eustachia's eyes,
but she turned to her work, while her
aunt founced out of the house, snap
pishly clicking the gate-latch as she
passed through.
But if the widow considered Eustachia
a fright, Sy Hedges thought the rosy,
dimpled cheek and flax-gold hair the
prettiest in the wide world.
"And SO your boarder hain't come
yet?" said Mrs. Deacon Marjoram, as
the two ladies sat sewing in the cosy
parlor.
"No, but he paid handsome fur his
room, and | am expecting of him all the
time" said the widow, biting off her
thread, SO that it would go through the
needle.
ooh, aunt" cried Eustachia, bursting
into the room, flushed and GREATNESS.
"He-he's come ~
"Dear me ! l must go, them" and
with hasty excuses the widow quickly
donned her wraps and hurried off.
"What does he look like ?" she demand
ed of her niece, as they fastened on.
as he nice looking?"
81 think he is" said Eustachia, ca
gerly. "He-he looks like Sy'
Like Sy,' shifted the widow, scorn-
fully. "The idee of comparing a rich
man like him to hired hand you go
into the kitchen and git supper as soon
as you kin ? she ordered, as they reach
ed the house.
And changing her frown for bland
smile, she entered the best room.
A tall figure reclined in an easy chair,
with book in his hand. The widow
stared then frowned.
':Sy Hedges, what do you mean by
a-settin' in here ?" she demanded, wrath
fully. you'll get your walking papers
this very night, fur a lazy scamp And
where's Mr.. Flowerdale, l want to
know"
cat your service, madam" returned
Sy, politely rising. only name is Flow
erdale."
"But-but- what" stammered the
widow.
Il had fancy to make the acquain-
lance of my neighbors as poor man,"
explained Sy, "and 1 am not sorry for
the experiment"
1t was a sore trial for Mrs. Snapwell
to see her cherished air castle tumble
in ruins at her feet, but she had to put
up with it.
And Eustachia found that Providence
had not intended her for an old maid,
after all, for she was married to Mr..
Flowerdale before the month was out,
| and went to live on the old cottonwood
| Place.
OUR NEW YORK LETTER.
Never was heard such rattling among
| dry bones as there is in New York at the
present time. Every day brings to light
some new official villiany, and we are ask
ing ourselves where it is going to end.
30 4Io1