The Brookhaven leader. [volume] (Brookhaven, Miss.) 1883-1891, 1883-11-22

was not another dun! 1t was addressed
to walter II. Allison"
"But l will open 1t. lie must not
be so troubled again to-day" said the
true wife, as her trembling fingers
slowly tore aside the envelope
Was she mistaken Surely it was q
check on - Bank, and for three
hundred dollars. Three hundred dol
lars! How it would tighten their bur-
dcns, how it already lightened the poor
little wfe's heart! Bessie wondered
how she transacted her business with
Mrs. Wilton; how she could listen and
answer intelligibly as to box-plaiting
and tailor-tinish. or decide between the
merits of plush bands or satin pipiugs,
when she was so eager to rush home
and tell Walter of the good news. Aud
once or twice she was obliged To look
again at the check to convince hersclS
it was not fairy gold But before
she had reached their door she was
calm enough to enter quietly rs usual
She went up to Walters chair, kissed
him, and put the envelope in his hands.
He opened it, looked at the check, then
at his wife, and said:
You are right, my Bessie yet
have not seen the righteous forsaken,
nor his seed begging bread | feel as
if this must be for Ethel and you; | do
not deserve it."
From sister Catherine, too he
added, pointing to the poStmark which
Bessie. in her excitement, had not no
ticed.
Such a warm, coy room as it was!
The autumn sunshine came in through
the east and south windows, dancing
over the soft, gay carpet, as if to test
its brightness with the glowing flame in
the great old-fashioned Franklin stove.
Perhaps the chairs and tables stood a
trile primly in their places, but not n
spcck or spot was to be found on their
polished surfaces; and you might have
turned every picture on the wall, and
searched in every corner, but neither
dust nor cobweb would have met your
inquisitive eye. A pleasant, sunny
room was Mrs. Catherine Allison sit
ting-room. But that small, old lady,
who lay on the sofa in the warmest
corner of the room, had little of sun
shine about her. A fretful experience
shone in her sharp, dark eyes, and the
lines about her thin lips were not pleas
ant. The other lady, also elderly, who
sat opposite Mrs. Allison, seemed more
in Keeping with the surroundings.
Peace was written all over the fair,
placid face, in the kindly eyes. the firm,
sweet mouth, the faded, wrinkled hands,
now kni ting with the unhurried grace
which belongs only to the aged. Mrs.
Eunice Foster seemed an impersonation
of the calm autumn day without,
Its three weeks to Thanksg wing
she said as she counted the stitches on
her seam needle.
Mrs. Foster made this brief remark
in half apologize tone, as if she rath-
er expected. to be contradicted, or called
to account in some way for her state
ment; for Mrs. Allison was in the habit
of differing from other people at first,
/ whether she was of their opinion or not
/ But at present she was too much Occu-
pied with her own grievances to dissent
as she usually did.
"Well, ! must say don't feel special
ly thankful said Mrs. Allison, drawing
! the afghan over her knees 'I've just
| had one trouble after another all this
J Y
! on the upper place; and then me laid
fiat o my back in the very hottest
! of the summer: and what with the
i drought and poor season the crops are
failure. Now, here | am with a
sprained ankle, and nobody knows when
| can put foot to the ground if | ever
can and all my business, and the whole
place, going to rack for need of some
one to look after things" And Mrs.
Allison drew long sigh of self-pity, and
wiped her eyes upon a very fine linen
cambria handkerchief.
Mrs. Foster glanced around the
| bright room, so full of comforts, even
Injuries; then out upon the trim, we'll
kept grounds, and beyond to the wide
fields where the stacked corn was stand
ing in long rows. She thought of the
stores of untouched provisions in the
| great. neat house, and how easy it was
for the thin, withered hands near her
to trace a few words upon paper which
would turn that paper into money
value. She thought how little spared
| from Mrs. AllisOn's abundance would
| bring pleasure and thankfulness into
| less favored homes; she thought how
her friend had it in her power to uplift
some bowed with toll, to add comfort
to some sick chamber, and sparse lar
der, and thinking thus, Mrs. Foster
sighed, too.
land what are you signing for,
Eunice?" said Mrs. Allison, sharply
'If am not thankful. FL own to it;
and you need not sit there looking like
funeral"
"Was l looking gloomy" said Mrs.
Foster. with little laugh, for she I'M
derstood Mrs. Allison's moods too well
to be offended at her plainess of speech.
Il m sorry you have so much trouble,
Catherine, but things will mend after
! awhile.
1T is to be hoped they will. But my
foot and ankle don't seem TO improve
at all, and am almost sure I'm going
to have a spell of rheumat SIN, my back
and shoulders are so stiff. | hardly
| closed my eyes last night"
'HDear, dear" said Mrs. Foster, SYM
pathetically. Nov did you ever try
turpentine liniment? just the yelk of
an egg well beaten, two wine-glassfuls
of turpentine, and a wine-glasS of strong
cider vinegar; when they re well mixed,
three wine glasstuls of water stirred in
little at time. It's Just splendid lin
iment. Father thinks there's nothing
like it. It's too bad about your ankle,
but as | was telling father, it's a mercy
YOU didn't break your leg"
'Humph! was Mrs. Allison's sole