Millheim Journal. [volume] (Millheim, Pa.) 1876-1984, 1883-05-03
A SLIGHT MISTAKE

The sun had gone down in a red
river of threatening cloud; the storm
which had been impending for some
days had broken at last, in wild
whirlwind of snow and tempest; and
Mrs. Abraham Ackley had just put the
tea-kettle on for the evening meal,
with Abigail, her daughter, stirring a
saucepanful of mush on the stove, and
Maria, her niece, hard at work, stitch
ing the upper parts of cheap cloth shoes
for a manufacturer in the neighbOr-
hood. For the Ackleys were thrifty
family. Nothing was lost, nothing
wasted, not even that slippery commod-
ity-time.
The Ackleys were feminine house
hold that night, for Abraham himself,
the grizzled head of the family, had
gone to the city, to put in a claim for
pension, VIII ch, according to his ideas
ought to have been paid half century
back, to some old Revolutionary anceS-
tor or other.
81 amt to be done," said Abraham,
winking his watery blue eyes, mot
even by the United States government
itself!''
So it had happened that Abigail
had foddered the cattle, fed the fowls,
and locked the barn door, coming in,
all powdered over with snow, her mid
dIe-aged nose blue with cold.
'Never mind, girls" said Mrs. Ack-
lev, with subdued chuckle, when
we inherit your Cousin Jones proper
ty We shan't none of us have to work
no more. We can be ladies, and set
up in sage-green dresses, playin' with
peacock feather fans. Did you get the
best chamber ready, Marier?"
"Marier" gave grunt in the affirm
ative, as she bit off the end of her
thread.
81 didn't light the fire yet" said
She Thought it warn't no use burn
in up good hickory logs, until we
knowed we was goin' to want EN-"
Scarcely was the sentence well out
of her mouth, when a tattoo sounded
loudly on the warped panels of the un-
painted front door.
LANDS sake alive" said Abigail,
dropping the wooden spoon into the
mush-pot, while Maria Strengthened
herself up with jerk, "it's Cousin
Jones alreadyp'
"QuickP' said Mrs. Ackley, in a
shril stage whisper. "Put the mush
in the closet, and fetch out the cold
chicken and raspberry preserves; and
the best cups, Abigail, and the three
tined forks, and the table cloth with
the border or daisies.
And she turned to the door, with a
faring, home-dipped candle in her
hand
"Is this Mrs. Abe Ackley's?" de-
manded shrill voice. 81 was told
she lived halfway up Pine Crags."
"Ain't this Mrs. Jones?" said Mrs
Ackley, in her softest accents.
"That's the ticketr' said the
stranger. "Do open the door and let
me in. I amt no burglar, nor yet a
sneak-thief.''
'1'm delighted to see you," said Mrs.
Ackley. "Do pray walk in, and let the
girls take your things. Marier. Abb
gail, this is Mrs. Jones, as you've
heard SO much Of Your room will be
warm dreckly. We've set great
store by your comm, do assure you. y
you're very kind" said Mrs. Jones,
shaking the snow off her shabby
shawl and pinched silk bonnet. 81
amt no beggar; l calc'late to pay my
own way"
The three women smiled obsequious
ly. They had been given to under
stand that Cousin Jones from New
York city was very eccentric-that
she particularly disliked any allusion
to her relationship, and teat there was
no accounting for her various peculiar
tiles.
"Of course" said Mrs. Ackley
"that must be as you please"
"I don't choose to be beholden tx
any one," stihly added the new-fount
relative.
"Qf course not" said Maria, help