The Columbian. [volume] (Bloomsburg, Pa.) 1866-1910, 1883-04-20
SELECT STORY.
"MAID-0F ALL WORK"

Rachel Ramsay looked very pretty,
indeed, as she came down the narrow,
wooden staircase of the little brown
farm house that afternoon, dressed in a
white muslin dress, strewn all over
with tiny, pink rosebuds, and fresh
lace frill around her neck, tied with
pink ribbon, while her pretty feet were
buttoned into new pair of boots, with
high, French heels, and her hair was
curled in loose, glossy coils of shining
| bronze.
"Eh " said Granny Ramsay, looking
up from her everlasting knitting work,
over which she was half asleep, "goin
to church, hey?'
sit isn't Sunday, grandma exclaim-
ed the girl, laughing and coloring. 81
am going 10 the Tower, to see Miss
Calhoun. She has often invited me
there-she and Miss Bell"
"Pshaw?" said Granny Ramsay, who
was one of those venerable people priv
iledged to speak their minds on all oc-
casions, "what do the fine city ladies
at the Tower want of farmers daugh-
ter like you?"
''But, grandma, they've invited me !"
at reminds me-" said grandma,
wisely, "of the old story of the iron pot
and the china pot swimming down
stream together; and they didn't no.
wise suit"
Rachel said no more, but escaped in
to the shady lane, where the naples
were beginning to turn pale yellow in
the first September frosts.
"Grandma isalways crtlclslug every
body" she thought. 81 know the la
dies at the Tower will be glad to see me.
Miss Alice wants to sketch my head for
Elaine and Miss Bell asked me to sing
duets with her. She said l had voice
like lark. And perhaps Mr.. Harold
son will be there. I know he often
visits at the house"
And Rachel smiled to herself as she
crossed the rustic bridge and went
through the woods to the Tower, a fan
tastic wooden cottage with semi -circu-
lar front, which was let for the summer,
the owner thereof preferring to live in
a square brick structure in the village.
The little side door was open and
Rachel went in. From the left of the
passage-way door opened into the
kitchen, there to her infinite amazement,
she saw Miss Alice Calhoun herself, in
an aesthetic dress of pale sagegreen, and
roses in her hair, contemplating pair
of decapitated fowls which lay on the
table.
"Miss Alice y she exclaimed.
SIS it you, Rachel?" exclaimed the
young city lady, pouncing on her as a
drowning man pounces on the nearest
floating straw. 80, | never was so glad
to see anybody in all my life! These
horrid hens! Bridget has gone away
in rage because presumed to find
fault with the coffee this morning, and
we have company to dinner, and /
haven't an idea how to get the feathers
off those creatures. But now that you
are here, everything will be right !"
And she took off the big bib-apron,
and stepped back, with sigh of relief
Rachel looked perplexed. She had
come there, not to enact the role OF
kitchen maid. but to visit Miss Calhoun;
to sit in her drawing-room and enjoy
the conversation of her guests, and she
did not exactly relish this summary dis
missal to the kitchen.
"There is no soup stock" went on
Miss Alice, "and salad, and delicate
piece Iof halibut, and with the fowls
roasted, and pie or pudding, or some
thing which | dare say you can make
we shall do very nicely. I'm particu-
larly anxious about the dinner, because
we are to have company. You'll ex-
cuse me now, because | have TO dress.
And away tripped Miss Alice, selfish
and smiling as ever was Queen Cleo
patra's self.
Poor Rachel She stood minute il
the hot kitchen, the tears springing to
her eyes, pang of disappointment at
her heart. She knew all about il. Har
old Haroldson and Mr.. Dallas were tc
dine there that day. aud she--she was
to be cook, waitress, maid of all-work-
what signitied it what she called her
self She remembered what grandma
had said, and for once in her life gave
that venerable lady credit for discrim
ination.
There was no help for it, however
She tied on the bib-apron, tucked the
curls back of her ears and went to work
to prepare the chickens for the roasting
pan, now and then pausing to brush
away the round bright tears which roll
ed down her cheeks.
These young ladies evidently intend
ed to make her useful She might hav,
known that they did, beforehand. Sh,
could hear the soft sound of Bell Cal
houns guitar; the sweet, subdued tink
lie of Alices laughter; the deep, monot
onous under current of gentlemen
voices, aud then she glanced down a
her pretty muslin dress and bows ol
pink ribbon, and began to think tha
Miss Calhoun had taken an unfair ad
vantage of her.
If she could only have heard the rap
id and energetic colloquy which trans
pired between the two sisters in thei
dressing-room when Alice first came NJ
stairs, she would perhaps have bette
comprehended the drift of things.
"Good newsW Miss Calhoun haC
cried, waving her scented pocket hand
kerchief in the air "l'ye got a girl il
the kitchen y
"No!' said Miss Bell, a fair haired