The Washington critic. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1885-1888, 1885-11-25
AUNT MITTABLE'S THINGS.
BY LUCY RANDALL COMFORT.


light threw the leaness copses into
strong relief; the little brook had
burst its thick crust of ice and sang
merrily under the velvet fringes of the
pussy willows, and up from the woods
there came an indescribable odor of
spring. A red flag, rolled up and tied
around its stick by hemp string, lay
just inside the door-yard, when Mrs
Grigson came in with the last pail of
water that she should ever draw from
the old well. She sighed as she filled
the squat copper kettle and hung 1t
over the fire.
1.-THE auction sale is tomorrow, ;"
said she, "and never was so glad of
anything in all my born days Sech n
time as I've had cleanin up and scrub
bin down and scourin' and polishin !
There amt bone in my body but
aches"
Its all time and trouble thrown
away" scpulchrally observed Miss
Ketchum, who had dropped in on her
way TO the store; "the old traps won
sell for sixpence apiece--you see if
they do"
but the things amt no use to me-"
said Mrs. Grigson, land | need little
money so awful bad As for the poor
luck I've had right straight through,
there amt no calculatin' it. Eff / was
TO tell you, Martha Ketchum, you
wouldn't believe it. Even down to my
last gold dollarp'
"Eh?" said Miss Ketchum. Being
of a melancholy turn she liked to hear
sad recitals, although personally her
sympathies were enlisted on the widow
Grigsons side.
why, it was last week." said Mrs.
Grigson, in the level complaining tone
that always reminded you of the little
brook down in the hollow, brother
Lyman left his little Brazil monkey
here over night. lie was a-calculatin'
to sell it to Mrs. Gartney's little boy,
John Henry. And eff you'll believe
me, the mis- able critter swallowed the
gold dollar I'd left on my bureau to
pay the meat peddler with and
dropped my silver specs down the
well"
"Lar' said Miss Ketchum.
II seen him champin' it between his
jaws" said Mrs. Grigson, "and shake
and squeeze him as l would, couldn't
get it out of him."
"Well, | never didp' remarked the
guest.
lit did seem as Of that was the last
straw that broke the cancels back"
sighed Mrs. Grigson. Brother Lyman
he was dreadful consumed about it, but
he couldn't do nothin' for me. He of
fered to kill the monkey, but knowed
how disappointed John Henry Gartney
would be, and, after all, the critter has
only acted accordin' to its natur', and
they was to pay Brother Lyman dollar
and half for him. AS for the specs,
brother Lyman tished 'em up with
long pole with crooked pin hitched
on to the end ont. The glasses was
broke, but the frames is good yet.
I'm calkilatin' to get EN- mended
when"
"Wonder how much the feather beds
II go for?" said Miss Ketchum, break
ing in on the monotonous refrain.
"There amt no tellin'," said Mrs.
Grigson. They're dreadful old. Aunt
Mittable she'd KEEP house for forty
year, and never had nothing new. /
don't s'pose an auction sale will pay,
but what else could l do with all the
old duds? Squire Daggett wants pos
session of the place at once, and"
"Ain't gwine to sell these ere house
plants, be ye?" said Miss Ketchum,
nodding toward green painted stand
in the corner.
Brother Lyman thought they might
fetch few cents" said Mrs. Grigson.
"And the stand ought to be worth a
quarter OF a dollar 1t had new
coat of paint year ago / give one
Jrusalem cherry tree to Abigail Bar
cupboards. She's been dreadful neigh
borly, and she wouldn't take a penny
for what she did"
more fool she,' CURLY observed
Miss Ketchum. I'd like that thar
monthly rose with the striped blossoms
on it. :"
Tits pretty" said Mrs. Grigson, ig-
noring the broad hint. "And / guess
it'll sell cheap. I'd like some friend
to hev it, for the slip it growed from
was give me by Grigson the very first
year we was married"
And as she was not invited to stay to
tea, Miss Ketchum at last went away,
leaving Mrs. Grigson sitting sorrow
fully before the fire of discarded barrel
slaves, ruinous packing boxes, ancient
chair legs, and wooden stools which
had absolutely refused to be made ca
pable of further service. "Aunt Nit
table"-which name was a perversion
of the good old New England prpno.
men Mehitable-had been all the
mother she had known, and it seemed
lonesome enough to be sitting there in
the empting house with Aunt Mittable
tucked away in corner of the frozen
churchyard. Her husband was dead
and her three little children were strug-
Cling up in the world as best they
could. She had position rs ianitrcss
in public school, but she had lost it
when she came to Mullen Farm to
and now she scarcely knew which way
to turn, Brother Lyman, her only liv.
ing relative, was poorer than herself
a good-hearted, empty-pocketed man,
who occupied some position on n sail
ing vessel between Boston and the
Azores Islands. There was a mortgage
on the place which had swallowed up
all aspirations in the direction of selling
IT, and Mrs. Grigson family hoped that
the auction sale might help to pay the
expenses of her old aunts burial
Otherwise she did not, TO use her own
expression, "see her way clear"
Mrs. Grlgson was not sentimentalist
A janitress in n public school building,
with forelinger roughened by the
coarsesl needle-worll, and mind mar.
rowed down by the daily treal-mill of
the most groveling cares, has not much
time for that sort of indulgence; but AZ