Daily globe., 1883-06-17


Alice, 81 will do my best to learn"
She locked the melodeon, put away
the books and portfolio and her basket
of fancy needle-work, and set herself
resolutely to work to fill the place of the
departed Dorothy.
"Why, what little housewife you
are" said Henry, laughing when she
showed him the tray of golden butter
that she had churned, and succeeded in
burning her fingers at the ironing fire
and reducing her pretty complexion to
scarlet in cooking buckwheat cakes for
breakfast.
"I want to be one," said Alice, visit
fully.
She cut up squares of bright-colored
calico into patchwork, she studied the
cookery-book until her head ached, she
caught heavy cold working over butter
in the damp dairy-house, and sprained
her wrist washing clothes, which, after
all, looked dim and dirty. She rose
early and went to bed late; she counted
eggs, mixed up whitewash, made herself
sick chopping up sausage meat, and
strained her back lifting a kettle of
pickles off the fire, and still she strove
resolutely on.
81 should like to do just what Dorothy
did" she said to herself. 81 don't think
Henry is quite pleased when am so
busy in the kitchen of an evening that
I cannot spare time to come in and hear
him read the Waverly novels aloud. And
my feet ached so this morning with the
cream skimming that I could not walk
with him to the haying ground. Bus I
am doing my duty, and that ought to be
reward enough /"
That same afternoon, however, poor
Alice was forced to fee to her own room
with sick headache, and seek the ref
uge of her pillow. There Mrs. John
Bonney, cheerful little neighbor, found
her.
"Sick, are you?" asked Mrs. Bonney.
"Im not very well," acknowledged
Alice.
"Ab," said Mrs. Bonney, 81 thought
sol
"What do you mean?" asked Alice.
"Why, you've been killing yourself
by inches p said Mrs. Bonney, as fast
as you could. I've seen it all. Pm not
your next door neighbor for nothingp
"I am trying to do my duty" plead
ed Alice, with filling eyes. "Pm try
ing to be like my husbands first wife !"
Fiddlesticl1s !" said Mrs. Bonney.
"Like Dorothy Parker, indeed! Why,
she was nothing on earth but a house
hold drudge, and finally drudged her-
self to death, without anybody being
particularly sorry for her. She never
visited, she never read, she never kept
up with the progress Of ife's march
around her. Any machine could have
filed her place."
"Mrs. Bonney, you ought not to talk
So" said Mrs. Perry, uneasily.
cts the truth" said Mrs. Bonney.
"However, do as you please. It's a
privilege which people generally claim,
have observed; Kill yourself if You
like. Perhaps the third Mrs Perry viii
be little more sensible"
So Mrs. Bonney put the bouquet Of
tea-rose buds, which she had brought,
into water, and tripped laughingly
home, while Alice, clasping her hands
over her throbbing temples, tried to
ask herself which was right, herself or
Mrs. Bonney, and in which direction
her path Of duty really and actually lay
And it was at this critical moment
that she heard the nasal, monotonous
voice Of her mother-in-law Downstairs
talking to her husband, and uttering
the sentence which opens our sketch.
"She al. + the same sort as your first
wife, Hen y" said Mrs. Perry, ST..
"And she never will be, let her try as
she viii. She hasn't got the faculty,
you see.
She lay there quite still and quiet
with closed eyes. She never opened
them when Henry Perry himself tiptoed
into the room, and, believing her asleep,
tiptoed out again, muttering to himself {:
"Poor little daisy, she is entirely done
upw
The next morning, however, Alice rose
and dressed herself with care.
"Bless me-" said Mrs. Perry, ST.,
"where are you going, AIice?"
"To the village" answered Alice.
"What for?" cross-questioned the
elder matron.
"To engage dressmaker and seam
stress first" said Mrs. Perry, Jr., "and
to get strong girl to do the housework
next"
"A-girl !" screamed the old lady.
dorothy never"