The Eaton Democrat. (Eaton, Ohio) 1875-1903, 1884-07-17

under the dial plate. 1t was fanked on
either sido by tall green vases.
There was a dull-colored rag carpet
of Martha's w manufacture on the
floor of the room. Some wooden
chairs stood around stiiy; an old yell
low map of Massachusetts, and a
portrait of George Washington hung
on the walls. There was not a speck
of dust anywhere, nor any disorder.
Neatness wa one of the chiefest COM
forts of Martha's life. Putting and
keeping things in order was one of
the interests which ~enlivened her dull
ness and made the world attractive to
her.
The poor soul sat at the window.
bending over the quilt, till dusk, and
she sat there bending over the quilt till
dusk many a day after.
1t is a hard question to decide
whether there was any real merit in
such finely strained honesty, or whether
it was merely a case of morbid con-
scientiousness. Perhaps the old
woman, inheriting very likely her
fathers scruples, had had them SO in
tensified by age and childishness that
they had become a little off the bias of
reason.
Be that as it may, she thought it was
the right course for her to make the
quilts over, and thinking so, it was all
that she could do. She could never
have been satisfied otherwise. 1t took
her a considerable time longer to finish
the quilts again, and this time she be-
gan to suffer from other causes than
mere fatigue. Her stock of provisions
commenced to run low, and her money
was gone. At last she had nothing but
a few potatoes in the house to eat.
She contrived to dig some dandelion
greens once or twice; these with the
potatoes were all her diet. There was
really no necessity for such a state of
things; she was surrounded by kindly,
well-to-do people, who would have
gone without themselves rather than
have let her suffer. But she had al
ways been very reticent about her
needs, and felt great pride about ac-
cepting anything which she did not pay
for.
But she struggled along until the
quilts were done, and no one knew.
She set the last stitch quite late n
evening; then she spread the quilts out
and surveyed them. "Thar they are
now, all right" said she; ''the pink
roses is in Mis- Bennet's, an / amt
cheated nobody out on their caliker,
an I've Armed my money. I'll take
'em hum in the mornin', an then I'll
buy somethin' to eat. 1 begin to feel
a dreadful sinkin' at my stummuck."
She locked up the house carefully
she always felt a great responsibility
when she had peoples work on hand
and went to bed.
Next morning she woke up so faint
and dizzy that she hardly knew herself.
She crawled out out into the kitchen,
and sank down on the floor. She
could not move another step.
'Lor sakes!' she moaned, 81 reckon
I'm bout done tot"
The quilts lay near her on the table;
she stared up at them with feeble COM
placency. 'Ef I'm goin' to die, I'm
glad I got them quilts done right fust.
Massey, how sinkin' I do feel! I wish I
had a cup of tea"
There she lay, and the beautiful
spring morning wore On. The u
shone in at the window, and moved
nearer and nearer, till finally she lay
in a sunbeam, a poor, ~shrivelled, little
old woman, whose resolute spirit had
nearly been her death, in her scant
night-gown and ruffled cap, a little
shawl falling from her shoulders. She
did not feel ill, only absolutely too
weak and helpless to o Her mind
was just a active as ever. and her
black eyes peered sharply out of her
pinched face. She kept making efforts
to rise, but che could not stir.
"Lor sakes!" she snapped out at
length. show long hen I got to lay
here! I'm mad"
She saw some dust on the black
paint of a chair which stood in the sun
and she eyed that distressfully.
ssJest LOOK It that dust on the runs
of that chesr!ra she muttered. "What
if anybody come in! / wonder if /
can't reach i'll"
The chair was neal her, and she
managed to stretch out her limp old
hand and rub the dust off the rounds.
The she let it sink down, painting.
81 wonder eff I amt goin' to die, -
she gasped. 81 wonder eff I'm pre-
pared. l never took nothini that
shouldn't belong to me that 1 knows
on. Oh, dear me SUI, I wish somebody
would comet"
When her strained EARS did catch the
sound of footsteps outside, a sudden re-
solve sprang up in her heart.
81 won't let on to nobody how I've
made them quilts over, an how 1 hewitt
had enough to eat Il WON'T"
When the door was tried she called
out feebly, "Who is tharp"
The voice of Mrs. Peters, her next
door neighbor, came back in response:
sits me. What's the matter, Marthy?''
-1'm kinder used up; dom know
how you'll git in; 1 can't git to the
door to unlock it to SAY my life"
"Can't [ get in at the Window"
"Mebbe you kim"
Mrs. Peters was a long -limbed, spare
woman, and she got in through the
window with considerable ease, It being
quite low from the ground.
She turned pale when she saw Martha
lying on the floor. "Why, Marthy.
what is the matter? How long have
you been laying thereP"
dizzy, an he'd a dreadful sinkin' feelin'.
It amt much, reckon. Ell 1 could
have a cup of tea it would set me right
up. Thar's a spoonful left in the pan.
try. Eff you jist put a few kindlin's in
the stove, Mis- Peters, an set in the
kettle an make me a cup, 1 could git
up, | know. I've got to go an kerry
them quilts hum to Mis- Bliss an Mis-
Bennett"
81 don't believe but what you've goi
all tired out over the quilts. You've
been working o hard"
"No, I 'ain't, Mis- Peters; it's nothin'
but play piecin' quilts. All 1 mind is
not havin' a front winder to set tc
while I'm dom ont"
Mrs. Peters was a quiet, sensible
woman of few words; she insisted upor
carryin Martha into the bedroom and
putting her comfortably to bed. 1t wa:
easily done, she was muscular, and the