The Eaton Democrat. (Eaton, Ohio) 1875-1903, 1884-07-17
AN HONEST SOUL.

AN HONEST SOUL.
.Thar's Mis- Bliss pieces in that
brown kaliker bag. an thar's Mis-
Bennet's pieces in the bed-tickin' bag"
said she, surveying the two bags lean
ing against her kitchen wall compla-
Gently. tIn get a dollar for both of
them quilts, an thar'Il be two dollars.
I've got q dollar an sixty-three cents
on hand now, an thar's plenty of meal
an merlasses, an some salt fish an
pertaters in the house. I'll get along
middlin' well, I reckon. Thar amt no
call fer me to worry. I'll red up the
house a leetle now, an then I'll begin
on Mis- Bliss pieces
The house was an infinitesimal affair,
containing only two rooms besides the
tiny lean-to which served as wood-shed.
1t stood far enough back from the road
for q ~pretentious mansion, and there
was n curious feature about it-not a
door or window was there in front, only
a blank, unbroken wall. Strangers
passing by used to stare wonderingiy at
it sometimes, but it was explained
easily enough. Old Simeon Patch,
years ago, when the longing for a home
of his own had grown strong in his
heart, and he had only O few hundred
dollars saved from his hard earnings to
invest in one, had wisely done the best
he could with what he had.
Not much remained to spend on the
house after the spacious lot was paid
for, so he resolved to build as much
house as he could with his money, and
complete it when better days should
come.
This tiny ediice was in reality simply
the Eof a goodly two-story house which
had existed only in the fond and faith
full fancies of Simeon Patch and his
wife. That blank front wall was
designed to be joined to the projected
main building; SO of course there was
no need of doors or windows. Simeon
Patch came of a Woodworking, honest
race, whose pride it had been to keep
OF of debt, and he was q true child of
his ancestors. Not q dollar would he
spend that was not in his hand; q mort
gagged house was his horror. So he paid
cash for every blade of grass on his lot
of land, and every nail in his bit of o
house, and settled down patiently in it
until he should grub together enough
more to buy a few additional boards
and shingles, and pay the money down.
That time never came; he died in the
course of few years, after q lingering
illness, ndonlyh had enough savedto pay
his doctors bill and funeral expenses,
and leave his daughter entirely without
debt in their little fragment Of a house
on the big sorry lot of land.
There they had lived, mother and
daughter, earning and saving in various
little petty ways, keeping their heads
sturdily above water, and holding the
dreaded mortgage resolutely off the
house for many years. Then the
mother died, and the daughter, Martha
Patch, took up the little homely
struggle alone. She was over seventy
now, a small, slender old as
straight as a rail, with sharp black
eyes, and a quick toss of her head when
she spoke. She did odd housewifelv
jobs for the neighbors, wove a car
pets, pieced bed quilts, braided rugs,
etc.. and contrived to supply all her
simple wants.
This evening. after she had finished
putting her house to rights, she fell to
investigating the contents of the bags
which two of the neighbors had brought
In the night before, with orders for
quilts. much to her delight.
mis- Bliss has got proper harnsome
pieces" q she-"proper harnsome;
they'll make a good-lookin' quilt. Mis-
Bennet's is good. too, but they amt
quite ekal to Mis- Bliss's. L reckon
some of ems DID,"
She began spreading some of the lare-
est, prettiest pieces on her white-scoured
table. Thar" said she, gazing at one
a~dmiringly, ..that jest takes my eve;
them leetle pink roses is pretty, an NO
mistake. l reckon that's French cali
ker. Thar's some big pieces, too. Lor,
what bag did / take 'em out oni 1t must
hey been Miss Bliss. 1 mustn't git
EN- mixed"
She cut out some squares, and sat
down by the window in q low wooden
rocking-chair to sew. This window did
not have a very pleasant outlook. The
nous was situated so far pack from the
road that it commanded only a rear
view of the adjoining one. 1t was a
great cross to Martha Patch. She was
n of those women who like to see ev-
erything that is going on outside, and
who often have excuse enough in the
fact that SO little is going on with them.
ats a great divarsion,''' she used
to say, in her swapping way, which
was more v than ill-na.
tured, bobbing her head violently
at the same time-"a very great
divarsion to see Mr.. Peters cows ggoin'
in an out of the barn day arter dav:
an that's about all I do see-never oil
sight of the folks goin' to meetin' mo-
nothinH."
The lack of a front window was 8
continual source of grief to her.
"When the minister's prayin' fol
the widders an orphans he'd better
make mention of one more" said she.
once, IAN that's women without from
winders.n
She and her mother had planned tc
save money enough to have one some
day. but they had never been able tt
bring it about. A window command
ing a view of the street and the passers
by would have been a great source O.
comfort to the poor old woman, sitting
and sewing as she did day in and day
out. As it was, the few objects of in.
terest which did come within her Wis.
ion she seized upon eagerly, and made
much OF. There were some children
who, on their way from school, coulc
make a short cut through her yard
and reach home quicker. She watched
for them every day, and if they did moi
appear quite as soon as usual she would
grow uneasy, and eye the clock, anG
mutter to herself, al wonder where
them Moseiy children can be?" When
they came she watched their progress.
with sharp attention, and thought then
over for an hour afterward. Not a bird
which passed her window escaped hel
notice. This innocent old gossip fec
her mind upon their small domestic at