St. Landry democrat., 1883-12-01
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. At
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,
sswhen father and mother are left alone,
something funny '.Look out, faith
err cried Bessie, gayly, as they were
leaving. s.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: ssWife, I'll finish
that history, and add up my yearly ac-
counts. We shan't have such racket
now.n
She replied: iii finish drawing in
my mat. There'll be 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? | 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 stll. The deacon
heaped up the wood in the open fire.
place, where the flames roared. 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
were 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 wondered 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.
'sWell, 4 forgot to put my beans
a-soak last night said Mrs. Stearns;
.sbut suppose can boil them longer
this morning.
oven, and see to the fireplace logs for
over Sunday said Deacon Stearns, as
be unlocked the door.
At night it was still showing; but Sle
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 iaky, 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.
g Wife, said the deacon, as he came
in to breakfast, the snow is pretty
deep; and the drifts viii be high below.
Mace s. What do you say to staying
at home from meeting to-day? Can't
we manage to keep Sunday by our
selves2'
Now, the deacon's wife was one of
the best women in the world; but she
did like, sometimes, a quiet Sunday at
home. Being very conscientious, she
seldom allowed herself such a luxury.
Her face wore smile of satisfaction as
she spoke: :. II would be hard for the
horse to stand out. Didn't he 60 a
little lame the other day? | hope we
shan't set a bad example to our new
neighbors, but as you think best, hus-
band. Y
Toward noon, she took her Bible and
sat down at the south window. She