New Ulm weekly review. [volume] (New Ulm, Minn.) 1878-1892, 1884-04-02

Elberson IS grand lady in London.
with carriage and horses and servants
in livery. What could they do with q
half-crazy old aunt, who takes snuff
and talks uncertain grammar? Poor
Miss Abby! She has wandered back
to her old home. She was eighty last
birthday, and things are all misty and
vague to her. .
"But what shall we do?'' said Mrs.
Miller, in accents of perplexity. "a
crazy woman here-it don't seem just
right, Mary, does itP''
s.Tll take her back after she has
rested q little. and had q cup of tea,
said Mary. cheerily.
But perhaps she won't go?''
ooh, yes, she WILL" said Mary.
''Poor Miss Abby! She is as gentle as
child"
Her words proved to be correct. Miss
| Abby Dabney suffered herself TO be
lead unremonstratingly back to Tewks-
town Workhouse, where the matron
read her shrill-voiced lecture, aud de-
clared that she should not be allowed
| another grain of snuff if she couldn't
behave better. Old Miss Abby smiled
deprecatingly.
''They are peculiar people here,''
che said. II think my DEAR" to Mary
Miller, ''they forget sometimes am .
lady. But it takes all sorts, don't you
see, to make a world"
The next night, however, Just as
Mary and her mother were sitting
down to tea, Miss Abby once more ap-
peared, in the midst of gentle shower
Of rain.
Il hope l don't inconvenience any
body" she said, meekly. ''But that
woman at Tewkstown has cut off my
allowance of snuff, and, after all,
there's no place like home"
And once more Mary Miller patiently
walked back with the poor old crone to
the workhouse.
The matron was Infatuated this time.
1T amt in human natur' to stand
this, she declared. '.l'll put her in
the Jug"
''The-Jug?" repeated Mary. in sur
prise.
cts room, down cellar. where wa
shut up the troublesome cases." said
the matron. ''Ican't stand this rum
ming away business, and won't!''
The jug, perhaps, proved efficacious,
for old Miss Abby Dabney did not APP
pear again for week. At the cxpira-
ton of that period, however, she crept
noiselessly in, just at dark, and seated
herself like silent shadow in the
chimney corner.
1T is so good to be at home again."
said she, rubbing her wrinkled hands.
II somehow seem to got lost of late
Daniel is gone, and Betsy is gone, and
I'm left here all alone. Yes, q cup of
tea, please-sugar, and no milk. They
never remember how like my tea at
Tewkstown. This is good; and butter
on my bread, too! We don't get butter
at Tewkstown.
Mary burst into tears.
Mother" said she, ''Miss Abby
shall not 60 back to Tewkstown-she
shall stay here. Mother, how should l
feel if you were wandering friendless
and alone through the world?''
''But my dear
''She shall sleep in her own old room,
out of the Kitchen persisted Mary.
''She'n be no more care than canary
bird. Oh, mother, do consent! She
will think then that she is still in her
own home. Oh, if you knew how
dreary it is at that Tewkstown Work
house, with the grass all trampled
out, and not SO much as dandelion or
daisy to be SEEN"
And Mrs. Miller yielded to Mary's
fearful solicitations.
DO as you please, my child" said
she. is
The Tewkstown authorities were but
too glad to be rid of the poor old incu-
bus, and Miss Abby Dabney settled
down into her old home, as c0ntentedly
and unquestioningly as if she had never
left it. She ate and drank but little,
and talked still lesA and seemed to re-
gard Mrs. Miller and Mary as guests,
who had come to visit the old farm. !.
'.The Widow Miller and her darter
must be rich folks to undertake to sup
port old Miss Abby" sneered one
neighbor.
'.She was well enough provided for
at the workhouse," said another. 81
Il never yet saw farm succeed that
was worked by women folks" jeered a
third.
''There'll be the biggest kind Of 4
smash-up presently" observed number
4OuIs kAuO du dlICGlOA 6hlO VI =0VeEYe
thing; and I'll be on hand, for them
little Attorney cows is the prettiest
creatures ever set eyes on, and good
mixers into the bargain y
But time wore on; and there was no
1utter or any printed placard an
nouncing sale over the gate. On the
contrary, matters throve. and Mary
Miller declared, joyously, that g'.farm-
ing was great deal more profitable
business than working in the factory,
and she only wished she had found it
out before. y
Until one gray, autumnal evening,
Mary and her mother came back from
brisk walk to the village, and found
stalwart, sun-browned man sitting
opposite to Miss Abby, by the red glow
of the fire.
The old woman rose up, in her old,
uncertain way.
Ladies'" she said, fumbling in her
old snuff box, ''this is my nephew, Tom
Burton-he as ran away from homo
twenty year ago come Michaelmas Day
and we all supposed was dead. Tom,
these are the ladies who are 50 good as
to visit me here. don't quite recollect
their names; but then, my memory
amt as good as it used to be; and,
after all, It don't matter much. Moth
ing matters much nowadays!''
And Miss Abby sat down and fell
into a ''daze" again. as if all necessity
for conversational effort were over.
Tom Burton stood up-a bronzed.
bearded giant, with dark eyes and SUI
perb stature.
.'Ladies, I beg your PARDON he
said. t.But I thought when came
here, was coming home! / knew moth
ing of all these changes. / never could
have dreamed that my cousins would
let this old creature go to--the town
poorhouse. don't know who you are,E
ladies'" with husky rattle IN his
throat, ''but / thank you. from the
Yerv h0tfnm of NV heart for nivinne