The Abilene reflector. [volume] (Abilene, Kan.) 1883-1888, 1884-11-27

AAfsAN VI A%OuloC DidhC-tnc
things! When uncle gave me a decent
dress for my birthday, / did hope ]
should have the privilege of wearing il
somewhere before it grew as old-fash-
ioned as the hills, but after cutting and
making it at odd moments, except on a
few Sabbath mornings it has never been
on my back. I've some pretty ribbons,
too, bought with the money Aunt Abby
gave me Fourth of July, though she for
bade my telling any one There's one
comfort, Aunt Abby pities me l know;
and L love her, for all her queer ways.
and | more than half suspect she knows
the other girls hate her; it will be one
help to tell her about this. | believe
one reason why l IN neUer allowed to 90 to
Greenwood Hill is because Frank Whit
comb invited me to that party last win
ter. l couldn't attend for want Of a
dress. I'm eighteen, old enough to be
my own mistress, and | won't stand it.
so now! l don owe them much; my
work has paid all along, and precious
little clothing or schooling they We given
me-"
She was angry enough, poor child.
and grieved enough, bur still she had
not cried, until brief rute from Aunt
Abby Thaycr announced the fact that
she would probably be unable to pass
the approaching holiday with the
Blakes, then she broke down entirely
Now she would have only the teeth
ing, fretful baby for company, while the
rest would be having grand frOlic in
Squire Whitcomb's great spacious
kitchen; then there would be a spread,
goodies she hadn't helped to prepare;
that would be treat of Itself, tasting
what had caused her neither toll nor
anxiety; then would come merry games
and Frank Whitcomb with MS tall fig
ure, curling mustache and handsome
face would be conspicuous in the happy
company.
1t must be confessed that the next
two days were very unhappy ones for
Classy, chiefly so because she was yield
ing to feelings of resentment, strongly
at variance with her usually sunny,
hopeful disposition. But we are in
clined to the belief that ''all work and
no play makes Jack not only ''dull''
but very discontented bOy-and Classy
was being crowded too far.
buJ SdoSN was Il NIiIlSJltU- i1cE DdI-
ents had beeu Christians before her. OF
her father she remembered nothing. but
her mother had not left her until she
was seven years old, and the teachings
Of her little girlhood were all Christ and
heaven-ward.
The BlakeS were a church-going fam
lily, but even Mrs. Blake, church mem
Der though she was, once remarked,
she didn't see ''what made Classy so
dreadful pious." This was when she
Voluntarily joined the church, and
afterwards refused to attend the theater,
when for once her uncle proposed taking
her there.
Thanksgiving morning the sweet face
was placid as ever. She had .'had it
OUT with her conscience, asked Gods
fOrgiyneSS, and was at peace again
Mrs. Blake wondered what had come
over Classy that she seemed so bright;
she had secret misgigings as TO the
kindness of her course, but then Kate
was twenty-three, and Louise but two
years younger. 1t was time they were
improving all the advantages society
might offer to young ladies of their age
Whatever that might mean. 1t GER
tainly would lessen expenses considera-
bly, in so large family if the girls
should happen to marry well some day.
Thanksgiving evening had come.
The family, excepting Classy and the
baby, had departed for Greenwood Hill;
Air. Blake had gone out last, shutting
and latching the front door behind him.
At least he LtOugtt he latched it-but
he didn't.
A feeling of dependency would creep
over Classy upon thus realizing herself
shut out from the pleasures natural to
young people, but reSolutely brushing
away few tears. she washed the great
pile of supper dishes, then went up
stairs to be near the baby should he
cry.
81 think I'd better pray little pray
er," she said to herself. lit would help
me I know" and kneeling by the side
of the bed she repeated slowly: Dear
Jesus, help me TO be patient; help me
to be patient"
1t seemed to be all she could say, but
little movement caused her to look
suddenly up, and there stood Aunt
Abby Thayer.
A flush of confusion spread over the
peachy cheeks as Classy arose from her
knees, but it was partly one of pleasure.
Excuse me, dear child;" said Aunt
Abby, caressingly, Il didn't mean to
come upon you so suddenly, but found
the front door ajar, and thought I'd
come right in;-but where all the
folks?"
Classy proceeded to tell where they
were. Upon which Aunt Abby asked,
quickly:
pray?"
"They did invite me particularly.
''Then what are you home alone for,
I'd like to know?"
"Baby couldn't very well 60, nor stay
alone, " returned Classy. smiling.
'Now, see here said Aunt Abby, her
voice rising with Indignation, ,'''do you
60 and get ready for Greenwood Hill
just as fast as ever you can"
80, can't. Auntie; for one thing I've
washed the dishes since they went away.
and by the time was dressed and had
walked way to Squire Whitcomb's l
should be all tired out, and the fun
would be more than half over"
Aunt Abby was explaining how it was
she happened to come, when all at once
she interrupted herself, saying, softly:
I 'Hark! what's that noiser'
Aunt Abby, Ike Mr. Blake, thought
she shut and latched the front door be-
hind her-but she didn't,
Upon the instant of her last eXclama-
ton both Aunt Abby and Classy heard
suspicious little noise in the lower hail.
and as the former started GuicklY down