The Red Cloud chief., 1884-08-01
A LACONIC MOOER.

Ness.
Mrs. Abigail Widgin, a buxom widow,
of four and forty, sat sewing in the
winter sunlight which fell through the
stand of geraniums and petuniaS before
her sitting-room window. A cheerful
wood fire burned or the hearth. its
flames reflected in the glistening brass
fire-dogs, only less brightly than the
sunbeams themselves.
Mrs. Widgin was a roly-poly little
woman, with swapping black eyes.
cheeks like Baldwin apples. and hair s
which only a few white threads dis
turbed the raven gloss. There vas an
air of determination, 1t istrfe. IN her
firm lower jaw. but thu MAS SO over
Swallowed by the genSr-. rosiness and
iollity of her facsss hsrdly to be per-
ceptible, and - . close observer
would have p46n0unced Mistress Abb
gail. as/he<sat placidly sewing in the
afterp16 Sunlight, a dame a gracious
IN comely.
clock in the correr StiUked mo-
IDtopcusly, the cat on the hearth rug
Alternately slept. and then awakened by
. sudden snap of the fire, awoke to purr
lpstily until drowsiness again overcame
Err. The widow sewed on with per-
sfect c0mposure. and scarcely even a
firmer curve of the mouth betrayed the
fact that she was keenly debating some
important matter in her mind. Only,
from time to time. her glance was
raised to the dial, and when st length
the sound of footsteps crunching on the
SNOW without was heard, the quick.
comprehensive survey which the black
eyes made of the room Indicated some
desire that everything should be right
I'D trig for the coming guest, and
an eeed, moreover. that the newcomer
hal been expected.
A Npoment later and lilly, the trim
maidsNhad ushered into the room a
dappefN little man with a markedly
legal ain Shrewd. t~winkling eyes, and
a shining%ll spot on the top of his
head. NJ
Good aftSS >pon. Mr.. Sharperson."
the widow san briskly. rising with
hospitable alacfS. Il began to fear
you We're not coni8rs"
Good afternoon! tie gentleman re-
turned. allowing hisS md to be shaken
vigorously. NJ
s.Sit down by the FREY pursued the
widow, bustling about w@Aahe desire
of doing something, yet mott he know
ing exactly what to do. "ft0nust be
q cold day for all the sun. ~1N0Ssnow
crunches too much for one not sNt1pow
that. You found it so, didn't ASpp''
she concluded, knowing by experfsS ce
that nothing short of a direct questsSa
was likely to elicit a response from TIL
taciturn lawyer.
"Yes," he answered briei ". q
'Uncommon cold. l should saw"
went on Mrs. Widgin, seating herself
opposite her guest. and spreading out
her plump hands TO the blaze as if talk
ing of the temperature made her more
sensible of it. colder than usual for
the season, don't you think 500"
Perhaps"
.'Oh. it certainly is much colder"
No response.
".But then it is, after all. the time of
year when one expects cold weather"
Still no reply.
E The days begin to lengthen." you
know the proverb, 1.-THE cold begins to
strengthen
Still unbroken silence on the part OF
the lawyer, and the hostess was forced
to abandon the weather for a more
promising topic.
.'You brought the papers for me to
sign, 1 suppose, Mr.. Sharperson?"
ssYes."
'SOf course YOU know that they are
all right. / trust it all in your hands.
/ never did know anything about mort
cages"
It was in Mr.. Sharperson's mind that
for one who knew nothing abont legal
documents the widow had managed he,
property with remarkable shrewdness,
but it not being his custom to waste S u
perfiuous words by putting his thought
into speech, he made no remark.
81 Twill sign whatever you tell me to-"
his client continued with really touch
ing confidence. eft is hard for a woman
TO have nobody but herself to lean upon.
I'm sure l don't know what 1 should dc
without you."
Again no response.
II quite depend upon YOU"
Still no reply, unless a faint sniff,
more or less s~cornful, might be so con-
sidered.
..Where are the papers,"
Mr.. Sharperson rose VITA great de-
liberation, and from the green baize
har. which, on entering, he had depos-
;ted upon the table, produced . small
rsckaoe of legal papers. He turned
P -S- AZ g. ~. oru