Reporter and farmer. [volume] (Webster, Day County, Dakota [S.D.]) 188?-1946, 1884-06-26
MEiDOH Farm.

naples we're crImsOned with their
earliest banners OF blossoms; and, as
she tripped along, Mary found a tuft
of ~yiolets, half hidden under a drift of
dead leAves-pale, purple, scentless
blooms
The first violets always bring good
luck with them, " she whispered 10 her
self as she pinned them into the bosom
Of her blue flannel dress,
Home" was scarcely the ideal r~ealiza-
ton Of that poetic word to our factory
girl. She and her mother lived In the
upper half Of a shabby, implanted
wooden house, with the blacksmith's
scol ding wife and seven riotou~ chill
dren down stairs, and one-hah of a IRAN
Piled back yard by waysof a garden,
where nothing ever grew but burdocks,
nettles and Mrs. Mnggs long legged
fowls.
But Mrs. Miller, who had been o
school-teacher once, and still retained
some Of the refinement Of her early
education, had the tea ready, with a
shaded lamp and a bunch of maple
blossoms on the table ready for Mary
TO come home.
"Good news, moiher!" the girl cried
lightly. 1.-The meadow farm is 70 be- let
Mother, We must take it,"
Mrs. Miller looked obviously at the
eager, bright face, with its blue-gray
eyes and fringes of yellow hair.
"Can we afford ii daughter" she
said slowly. "A whole house and farm
Of forty-three aeFesg"
at isn't such a very large house,
mother" pleaded Mary as she laid the
bunch Of yiolets in her mothers lap,
nor so many more rooms than We have
here. And we could keep twn cows,
and ! could sell milk aud butter, and
spring chickens and eggs; and l am al
most sure that Will Davidge would work
the farm on shares. And only think,
mother, how delightful it would be &c
have a home all to ourselves, where We
couldn't hear Mrs. Muggs boxing Bob,
by's ears, or Helen shrieking with the
toothachel And a little garden, mother,
where we could have peonies and holly
hooks, and all those lovely, old fashioned
flowers that your soul delights in
Mrs. Miller's face softened.
"It would be a great temptation, Mol
ly," she said.
Its a month since old Mrs. Dabney
died. said Mary. "And they say that
her daughter in the city and her son IL
California despise the old farm, with it;
one-story house and its old red barn.
SO it is 10 be let. And so cheap, too.
Only a hundred and fifth dollar'sa year
Mother, we must take il, III leave the
factory and turn dairy maid I've saved
enough, Won know, TO buy the two COW,
and some real Plymouth Rock fowls e
begin with, aud oh. il will be sucn hap.
piness! Say yes, mo.her-do say yes!
When Mary Miller pleaded like thi,
the gentle widow never knew how Il
refuse; aud the upshot Of il was thai
they leased the Dabney house, aud be.
came c~o-soyereigns of the realms O
Meadow farm.
II was their first night there. Over
head the Young May moon shons
through a veil Of purple mist. A soil
tary owl hooted in the chestnut Woo
back Of the house, for Meadow farm wa
situated on a lonely mountain side
where no one ever came except on spe
cial business.
The Plymouth Rock chickens wer,
safely shut mp where foxes could no
reach them o minks steal in to blee(
their young lives away; the cows-twt
fine young Alderneys-were chewing
their ends back OF the old red barn, anC
Mary Miller had flung a handful of ce
dar sticks on the hearth, where then
scented blaze illuminated the ole
kitchen with leaping brightness beau
tiful TO see.
Because it's just possible that tn.
house may I've damp" she said, ''aftei
being uninhabited so long. There
mother, isn't that cheerful? And ism
it nice our old rag carpet should fit thi
floor so exactly 2" with a satisfied down
ward glance. "And do you see thos,
tiger lilies? / found them down by tin
garden wall-oh, snch a red wilderness
OF them! Old Mrs. Dabney set then
out herself, they say. II seems only yes
tcrday," she added thoughtfuiiy, that
came past here and saw old Mrs. Dab
ney sitting in the big chair by the fire
Just where"
Mrs. Miller uttered a little shrek an,
grasped her daughters arm at this mo
ment, Mary stopped short, with al
ashy pallor overspreading her cheek.
For as she spoke the door opposit.
had opened, and a very little old won
an, silver haired and shriveled like
mummy, came ia, and walking acros
the floor, seated herself in Mrs. Dab
ney's very An old woman
dressed in the snuff-colored gown tina
Mrs. Dabney had always worn and wear
ing a snuffsil cap, whilea bag depend
ed from her arm.
at cold, ladies'" she said. looking
around with a d~eprecating air, "Cols
for the season Of the year. And they
don't keep fires at Tewkstown."
Mother" said Mary, recovering her
self with a hysterical gasp ofralief. II
isn't old Mrs. Dabneys ghost at all
It's old Miss ABBY come back from tn,
Tewkstown poorhouse."
"You don't mean-pbegan the mil,
widow.
THAT Mrs. Daniel Dabney and Mrs
Eyerard Emerson let their old aunt q
to the poorhouse?" said Mary Miller
yes, it is quite true. Mrs. DAME
leads society in San Francisco, / an
told, and Mrs, Emerson is a grand lad,
in Bridgeport, with a reception day ,anC
servants in livery. What could the,
do with q half crazy aunt, who takes snuff
and talks uncertain grammar? Poo
Miss Abby, She has wandered back I,
her old home. She was eighty her las
birthday, and things are all misty ant
vague to her.
What shall We dorp said Mrs. Nil.
Ter in accents Of perplexity. "A crazy
woman here--it don't seem jast right
Molly, does it,"
I'll take her back after she has rest.
ed a little and had a cup Of tea,p said
Mary cheerfully.
But prehaps she won't go.n
"Oh yes, she will, said Mary. Poor
Miss ABBY She is as gentle as 9
child"
Her words proved to be correct.
Miss Abby Dabney suffered herself 10 be
led unremonstratingly back TO Tewks-
town poorhouse. where the matro- -oa,.
/ hap N uhws1lt~x.l l