Orleans County monitor. [volume] (Barton, Vt.) 1872-1953, 1883-12-10

very certain. That he was forty
years old, if not older, appeared an
fact. That he was
rich, rather eccentric, and
decidedly in want of q wife, every
body in town knew before the title
deeds Of the big house had been twen-
ty-four hours in the possession of the
new owner.
eyes," the major had averred, Sc
riously, when facetiously challenged
on the subject by Miles Rideau, one
of his most intimate friends, Il do
want a wife. You may chaff about
it as much as you please, but it won't
alter the fact. But [ want a wife,
not bundle of giggle and frizzes and
Paris millinery
"I'll introduce you to our first
young ladies'" said Mr.. Rideau,
cheerfully, "and then you can pick
and choose for yourself
Major Trixton was silent.
ga regular old bachelor" said Ri
deau to himself. "He'll never marry.
He wants perfection, and there's no
girl living that can come up to his
standard"
The ladies, as matter of course,
were much interested in the bluff,
brown, elderly major. Miss Serena
Silver, whose grandfather had been a
commodore, and whose genealogical
tree had more branches than a star
fish, picked out the last gray hair
from her tresses and plumed herself
for conquest.
"He'll want lady of indisputable
birth and position," she thought.
Alice Wood, the pretty dressmak-
er's assistant, pinned an extra blush
rose in the front of her bonnet as she
tripped to and fro to her work past
the windows of the brown house.
"The old story of King Cophetua
and the beggar maid is often repeat
ing ITSELF" she thought. "And I'm
not quite a beggar.
While all the beauties of Portville
frightened up their armor and pre-
pared to enter the lists.
Major Trixton went into society.
and society was puzzled to know what
to make of him.
Twelve shirts !" said Gertrude
May, holding up her hands in dismay
''Twelve shirts !'' echoed Mrs
Lacy, who was a pretty widow Oh
promotion.
"But, my dears," said Mrs. Hedge
the mother of two dimpled, velvet
eyed brunettes, ''you must be mis-.
taken"
"But we're not, mamma" sale
Bertha.
"He really did say SO, mumsey,'
declared Ida.
"You see, Mrs. Hedge" explained
Erminia Bruce, ''he has founded {
hospital, or poorhouse, or something
out west, and he wants a box made
up to send to the poor people there
And he has asked the young ladies
hereabouts to contribute twelve shirts
one shirt each, don't you see
And they must be made by their owl
hands,"
$50 ridiculous p said Mrs. Hedge
"But old bachelors always do have
their quips and cranks,' said Mrs
Lacy, complacently, as she remem
bered a garment of the late lamentet
Lacy's wardrobe, which she promised
herself to "do up" and pass on to tht
western paupers as piece of genu
inc domestic manufacture.
"Well, girls, you have to get you
work boxes,'' said Mrs. Hedge.
eff it was worsted work, now,
said Ida.
"Or Kensington stitch,' sigheC
Bertha.
But shirts Who ever heard O
shirts?'' said Gertrude. "However
we must all try. A rich old bachelo
is worth a few pinched fingers-eh
girls ?''
But Erminia Bruce, who had n,
liking for plain needlework, looket
with disgust at the Wamsutta mus
lin, the card of buttons and the com
pact paper patterns on the table.
81 haven't time for it," said sh
to herself, "if / practice that sonat
for the Thursday evenings musical
I'll put it out and the major will nev
er know that / didn't make it myself
A shirt, indeed Why, he'll be ex
pecting us to scrub floors and max
soft soap next. The brown house
very nice, but | mean to be lady O
it without any of this odius drudgery.
So Miss Bruce, who was tall, wit
q superb complexion, flashing blac
eyes and figure like Diana's own
rolled up the obnoxious materials an
carried them to little house aroun
the corner, where pale doye-eye
young woman, no longer in her frs
youth, sat at her sewing.
Agatha said Miss Bruce, curtly