The Portland daily press., 1883-10-15

OW Brooks TO MISS Eunlce Hell, as they Sa
together at funeral, in the pause that fol
lowed the religious services, and allowed tn,
neehbors to file silently BY the coffin AMI
look at the stern features of the dead. set
tied now into that dumb and wonderful
repose unknown to life or sleep.
well; expect she hed,' said Eunice
noddlng her rusty black bonnet at the wild
owls. "She was a master hand to tell he
Judgments all abroad, too; she didn't make
no bones about sayin' what she thought o.
folks, be they who they may"
Wen, dono as that's what meant.
was thinkin' about her faculty for house
work and sech. You never see no pool
bread, nor no soft pickles, nor no worked
preserves, to her house; seemed as though
she knew just the identical minute cream
had riz all it would, or bread had rose les
right"
There would have been more than one
echo to Miss Eunice's characterization o.
the departed Mrs. Weeks if the unspoker
had been the spoken thoughts of several who
had viewed the corpse" as the country
phrase had 1t, and wondered in themselves
what sort of atmosphere in the accepted idea
OF heaven would suit the OUTCOME soul, OF
which of the "many mansions be a con-
genial home for the rigid spirit earthly COM
panions had never suited. Let us record
one Of her judgments"
When Mary Prince married Augustus
Barber and settled down to her life
IN Barton she knew just what she was COM
ing to; her husband was a poor man, be-
ginning life as dealer in a small way in
flour and feed. Her preparations had been
simple and inexpensive, for she was not able
to spend money freely, being poor minis
ter's daughter. Augustus had meant to
study for the ministry, but his health failed {;
aCtlVQ life ordo
him, and in the clear air of Barton he had
become well again and comparatively strong.
Both he and Mary took an active part in
the Sunday school, and made friends as
naturally and easily as two bright, kindly
young people will in an ordinary New En-
gland village.
Mrs. Deacon Weeks was a widow; her
patient, excellent husband had been dead
live years. But she was woman of domi-
nant temper and critical disposition, and
magnified her husbands office, even after
be laid it down, into a needful supervision
of her neighbors and their affairs, particu-
larry if they were members of the church.
Now, Mary Barber had relations who
were wealthy and generous, and often gave
her presents OF articles they knew very we'll
she could not buy, and she accepted them
with the meekness and gratitude necessarily
educated into the children of those labor
ers in the ministry who are never paid their
due hire, and so have to take gifts of chart
ty. But Mrs. Weeks knew nothing about
Mr.. or Mrs. Barber except that they were
poor. When a cousin, just going into
mourning for her father, sent to Mary the
pretty soft cashmeres and black lace hat
wreathed with velvet pansies, for which she
had no further use, they came to the little
woman as real godsend. ooh, Gasp said
she, "look here!. see what George has sent
mel Now L shall not have to buy dress
for two years at the very least | can just
shorten all the dresses, for we could always
wear each others things but for their length,
and L have not even a summer bonnet to
buy; my last years straw will do nicely for
common wear"
Mr.. Barber, like most men, liked to see
his pretty wife well dressed; they had been
married two years now; the trosseau was
getting worn and little dingy; the black
silk needed trimming again, for its cheap
fringe was already rusty, and Mary knew
very well that there was no spare money to
renew even the ornaments of her scanty
wardrobe, much less the gowns themselves;
but here, on quiet gray silk, was black lace
enough laid over the anticipating to trim
all her old silk atresh, and the plaitings sat
isted her taste without lace above them;
and very fair and elegant she looked in that
gray dress, fitting her perfectly, as it did,
with gloves and parasol to match it, and the
little French bonnet set on her waves of
gold-brown hair.
But Mrs. Weeks glared at her across the
old Westinghouse with indignant eyes, and
at the "noon-spelP' prayer meeting made a
long and. loud petition that the ''young
members" might be rebuked and be
convinced Of the sin of pampering the
lust of the eyes and the pride of life; that
thew miohf dnuv fbaueaIuoc Of e,,ob
agance and finery in regard to the poor per-
ishing body as made scandal in the church,
and come out and be separate from sinful
world. Mary Barber, just invited to join
this select assembly which always met dur
ing the intermission at Widow Brooks
house, wondered who Mrs. Weeks was pray
ing at, for that her petition had a personal
application was only too evident; after her
first serene satisfaction at being well dressed
once more, and her shy joy in her husbands
admiration, Mary had not thought again of
her dress. To tell the truth, 1t was far less
in her mind than the frayed fringe of her
black silk would have been, or the faded
aspect of her lilac muslin. But she asked
no question, OF course. and went her way
home to get her husband his piece of pie,
the substitute for twelve o'clock dinner
that made Sunday day of rest. Mrs. Brooks
however was not so injurious, and while
three or four women fingered to eat their
lunch in her kitchen, one of them also de-
tanning Mrs. Weeks to ask some questions
about mutual relative, the widow came
forward with a smirk, and said: sSYou
seemed to be real reused up in prayer TO-
day, Mis- Weeks, as though there was
concern on yonr mind, now didn't ye?'
swell, | didp' answered Mrs. Weeks,
with solemn brevity.
81 thought So" sighed Mrs. Brooks, but
with instructive tact asked no more.
There was sort of expectant pause, Curl
Gus eyes regarding her. Mrs. Weeks felt that
she was expected to explain; that she ought
also to point moral SO she continued: l had
Mis- 'Gustus Barber in mind. have felt as
though she done we'll usually, and wore
such clothes as was according to her means;
but seeing her come out to-day with a span
new silk-gown, real good silk, too, for
priced one just like it at Mathar & Mix's for
my niece Sophronia's wedding gown, and
she felt as though she couldn't see her way
to buy it; and then gloves and umbrysol to
match, and bonnet all covered with flow
ers atop of her head, why, L felt as though
it was my privilege to pray for her, and
maybe to speak to her about such mortal
extravaganza; there amt no -four and feed
business in Barton 't'll ever keep up such
dressin' as that"
"Thafs SOL! echoed Mrs. Martin; land
know he amt doing dreadful well, neither;
for Paphro was into the bank the other day,
and he heard Barber a-askin' for an extern
sion. wonder they let him hev it."
"Well," said Widow Brooks, ''folks will
bite off their noses while the world endures;
but seems as though he'd know better'n to
buy her such things.''
"Pshaw men don't know no more about
clothes-women-folks clothes, anyway
than they do about the moon," said Mrs.
Martin, who did not really persuade clothes
enough to keep her respectable from the
tight grasp of ''PaphrO's" pocket book.
81 guess he'll find out NOR he ever knew,
when the bill comes in for that finery," went
on Mrs. Weeks. "And, moreover, / think
it's my dooty to let the bank folks know
what | think about it. don't want to hev
our bank took in, no way"
Wouldn't you wait bit, and talk to her,
mabbe?' interposed Miss Eunice Pell, the
village tailoress, who had not an exalted
opinion of Mrs. Weeks, having more than
once suffered from her hasty judgment
81 dunno; mabbe l won't go tomorrow.
If he's got extension they can't help it
now. l think will have a talk with her;
she had ought to see the error of her ways,
anyhow"
''Landr' sighed Miss EunIce.
But not on Monday or Tuesday did Mrs.
Weeks deal with the offender. Unexpected
company kept her at home. Wednesday
vuae aui N a. eOciatv 1av and Mary Rarhar