Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1884-12-11
0alfs aud Sketthfs.
WHAT BECAME OF HER-
CONTINUED from Yesterday. !,

| tCOntnueG from ycslSflatJ
DR.. Wentworth in visiting whose invalid
daughter poor old Parson Fox had con-
tracted the illness which carried him to
his grave, was brusk and short. He was
sorry for Miss Joanna. of course. but he
didn't know of any way in which he could
| be useful. He understood there was g
kid-glove factory to be opened on Wall
ing river soon.
No doubt Miss Fox could get a place
there; or there could be no objection to
her going out to domestic service. There
was a great deal of false sentiment on
this subject and he thought
But Joanna without waiting tor the re-
suit OF his cogitations excused herself.
She could detain him no longer, she said /;
and she went away with flaming cheeks
and resolutely repressed tears.
| When she got home she found one OF
the trustees of the church awaiting her.
| He didn't wish to hurry her he said. but
the new clergyman didn't want to live in
such ruinous old place and it was their
gagged much beyond its real value, to sell
It out. and buy a new frame near the depot
with all the modern copveniences, for the
use of the Rev. Silas Speakwell.
Am to be turned out of my home Pr
said Joanna. Indignantly.
Deacon Blydenburg hemmed and hawed.
| He didn't want to hurt no ones feelings
but as to her home, it was we'll known
that to all intents and purposes the old
place had long ago passed out of Parson
Fox's ownership; and they were willing
to accord her any reasonable length of
time to pack up and take leave of her
| friends-say week.
So Joanna, who could think of no
remaining friend but her old governess.
who had long ago gone to New York to
fight the great world for herself, went
down to the city and appealed to Miss
Woodin in her extremity, and Miss Wood
in cried over her and kissed her and car
essed her like an old maiden aunt
What am | to do?" said poor, pale Jo-
anna. IL can't starve."
There is no necessity for one starving
in this great busy world" said Miss
Woodin, cheerfully. ''All one wants is
faculty"
Joanna shrank little from the hard,
sterotyped word she had so often heard
from the lips of Mrs. Emmons. Miss Sabi-
But how do you live?"
"Do you see that thing there in the cor
ner ?" said Miss Woodin.
Yes" answered Joanna, is it a sew
ing machine ?"
''lts a typewriter" announced Miss
Woodin, land can earn my living on it. g"
''But what do you write ' said Joanna
Anything | can get," said Miss Wood
in.
And thus. in the heart of the great will
derness OF New York, Joanna Fox COM
menced her pilgrimage of toll.
First on the type writer, then promoted
to a complier's desk in the fashion de-
partment' in prominent weekly journal ;
then, by means of striking original
sketch, slipped into the letter box in the
Ladies' Weekly with fear and trembling.
to place on the contributors list; then
gradually rising to the rank of a spirited
novelist, until our village damsel had her
fiat" furnished like a miniature palace,
with Miss Woodn and her type writer
snugly installed in one corner.
because | owe everything to her, a"
says the young authoress, gratefully.
And one day, glancing over the ex-
changes in the sanctum of the Ladies'
Weekly, to whose columns she still con-
tributed, she came across a copy of the
Foxville Gazette.
Hester. said she. hurrying home to Miss
Woodin, 1.-THE parsonage is to be sold at
auction, tomorrow, and | mean to 90 up
and buy it; for | am sure-quite sure
that could write better there, than any
where else in the world"
Co Iooppo Eox anJ Mice Uood;,
dressed in black and closely yelled, went
up to Foxville to attend the auction sale
| Everybody was there. They didn't
have an auction sale at Foxville every day
in the week
Squire Burton was there, with vague
idea OF purchasing the old place for a pub
lie garden.
at would be very attractive" said the
squire, These open-air concert gardens
are making no end of money in the cities.
| don't see why the Germans need pocket
all the money that there is going"
Mr.. Emmons came because everybody
else did. Miss Dodge, who had saved a
little money, thought that if the place
went cheap, she would pay down part
and give mortgage for the remainder.
"And my sister could keep boarders, y
she considered, land | could always have
a nice home there
But Simon Lockedge was most deter.
mined of all to have the parsonage.
Il could fix it up" he said to himself,
land live there comfortable. It's dread.
full pretty location. and I'm bound to have
it-especially since mothers investments
have turned out bad and we have got tc
sell the old farm. Nothing hasn't gone
right with US since broke of with the old
parsons granddaughter 1t wasn't quite
the square thing to do, but there seemed
no other way. But, let mother say what
she will, it brought bad luck to me.
And the rustic crowd surged in and out
and the auetioneer mounted to the plat
form on an old kitchen table, and the bid
ding began at $500, land hung fire. fol
some time.
six hundred!" said cautious Simon
Lockedge. at last.
"Seven !" piped Miss Dodge. family.
Eight ~ said Simon, resolutely.
"A thousand !" uttered the voice of q
quiet. yelled lady in the corner.
Every one started in that direction.
"'laint worth that" said the Squire
soto voice; "all run down-fences gone
to nothing"
But Simon Lockedge wanted 1t very