The Eaton Democrat. (Eaton, Ohio) 1875-1903, 1884-05-22
ONLY A MAID.OF.ALL.WORK.

even the clock seems to tick faster,
as if hurrying to make up forlo st time,"
she said to herself as she refolded the
telegram announcing her brothers ar
rival in New York. The ticking seemed
louder, clearer, than it ever sounded
before, she thought, as her eyes rested
OIL the clock, and noted the apparent
rapidity with which the minutes sepa-
rating ner from her brother were meA.-
ured off. The house seemed so silent,
too; or was the stiffness broken at in
tervals by the clang of the mills mere
fancy I?
The summer air blew in through the
open door, tossed half dozen withered
leaves from the vine through the WIN
dow, then lifted a paper lying on the
table near her. She grasped it quickly,
sighed, and said:
Thanks be to God, he's well over,
anyhow. He sailed on the eighth-and
here it's only the eighteenth, and me
allowing twelve days at the lowest !
Sure they couldn't do much better thar
that if they built a bridge over che
ocean He'll be here before I have
everything ready for him."
She looked at the clock again in an
absent-minded way. 1t was plain her
mind was not upon her work. For that
matter the bulk of her days work was
done. The room was clean; everything
was in its place. The aid-of-all-work
was enjoying a breathing SPELL
When the messenger boy came with
the telegram she was making curious
marks on a piece of paper, the paper
she now held in her hand as she looked
at the clock, as though noting the flight
of the hours that divided her from her
brother.
81 wonder what he is like now p'' she
asked herself. Like people who scru-
tinized an unexpected letter, examining
the post-mark, date of reception, and
c~hirography, specializing upon the
writer, she INDUCED the pleasures Of
anticipation. at was on a day much
like this I left cambridge. The grass
was green-far greener than it is here
anyway, there's no such dirt as we have
here. Will ] ever see such a sky AGAIN.
Jamie vas a bit of a gossoon that cared
no more for the next day than the wind
that tossed his curly hair. He was the
worst-and the brightest lad in school.
He scarcely sat still long enough to find
the place in his book, the master told
me, and he stood at the head of his
class. No thanks and no credit to him,
as DIR. Low said more than once, for il
cost him no trouble at all. He'll be 8
head taller than me at least, if he take:
after the Sloan's side of the house.
He'll be six feet, maybe"
She marked a spot on the side of the
door, smiling curiously, walked back
and looked at it. .'That's about the
height I'm to look up to all my life, ]
suppose. John reaches there, and il
my brother is rs tall-but what odds
whether he is short or tall. It's all one
only he might have told me. It's 6
grand secret he has made of it every
way. Amd he'll be here to-anorroU.r'
She looked across the river at the
hilltops, where quiet stretches of farm.
land lay in the broad, warm sunlight
rs the columns of smoke vomited from
sometimes shut out the beautiful land
scape, d~arkening the sky. Then AGAR
she was recalled to herself by the
silence of the house. Where were th1
children? She looked out Of til,
window. At a considerable distance
from the house, something that nigh
be a child's head or a dog was moving
back of a log. Then another object ap
peared and disappeared, but the instan
of time sufficed to satisfy the maid-of
all-work. The children were playing
in the open field near the house. Bu'
where was the nurse? Strolling a long
distance from the little heads that were
bobbing up and down between the log: