The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1885-11-18
GIRLS OF CERT.

GIRLS OF GRIT.
It had been q dull day at the store,
and Meta Carstairs was tired of stand
ing behind the connter with nothing tt
do. Mr.. Bobbinet was always a degree
crosser than usual on dull days. HI
scolded the little "cashes' for whisper
ing, criticised Miss Drggett for the way
in which she piled her c~ollar-boxes or
the counter, and reproved Miss White
for packing her parcels OF lace under the
shelves.
1T is very easy" said Mr.. Bobbinet,
''to see that YOU young women have nc
personal interest in things"
"Why should we!" whispered Rosa
Nixon to Miss Carstairs. "He has nc
personal interest in US, except to c~ontrive
how much money he can make out oil
u.s."
And Mr.. Bobbinct had told them
probably to increase their spirits-that
after the first of May their scanty salaries
would be locked twenty-five per cent.
,"ForI am losing money in the bust
ness" said Mr.. Bobbinet-''yes, positive
ly losing money all the time. fought to
have cut you down at Christmas, but
am n conscientious man, and mid winter
is a hard time to reduce wages"
Meta Carstairs had looked incredu-
lousy at Lillian Hand. Was it not on
- the very last Sunday afternoon that they
had walked past the elegant new house
that Mr.. Bobbinet was erecting on Para
;,on avenue? Did that, they asked
themselves, look like losing money!
"What an old humbug that man is"
said Rosa Nixon. "If I knew any re-
spectacle farmers wife who wanted a
'help,' I'd quit business and go to her
see if I w~ouldn't!"
"But we are all dependent upon our
salaries" sighed Lillian Hand. "What
can we do2"
This was at the noontime, when Mr..
Bobbinet had gone down stairs to quar-
rel with the fireman, and the girls mud.
died d~isconsolately around the registers
to eat their little paper packets of
lunch.
II know what I'd do if I had a house."
said Meta. boldly.
"What?" said Clarissa Daggett.
ed keep boarders," said Meta.
"Roardcvs! Dea: me, what a funny
idea!n cried Lillian Hand. "What made
you think of that"
"Because ! had a letter from Ston-
ington last night" said Meta. And
my old grand-aunt Locke is dead, and
she has left me a lot of old furniture
the accumulation, in fact, of two or
three generations. What could do with
old furniture, or new, either, for that
matter2 The homestead-a tumble-down
place enoush-is left to a cousin up in
Maine, and all the ready money to a
n~e'er-do-well relation out in Kansas,
who will spend it before the dear old
soul is fairly cold"
"Furniturew repeated Lillian Hand.
"Why, isn't that strange? And I have
got a house out at Watch Hill-a lonely
old place, on the very edge of the sea-
that is, if it hasn't fallen to pieces in
these heavy wintcr-tides."
"What sort of a house," said Meta.
81 don't Know" Lillian answered,
laughing. II never saw it. My uncle
died there, and I am the only surviving
relative. 1 might have fitted it up for a
country seat if I had been rich; but l am
not"
Meta put her light hand on the 9th,
er's shoulder.
Gill;" said she, "there's a fate in
these things. You have e house, and
I've got the furniture. Watch Hill is
the very place to take boarders in"
care you crazy, NettaW said Lillian.
"The big hotels would swallow us up,
as the whale swallowed Jonah"
''Fiddlesticks!" cried Meta. "OuI
chance is as good as anybody else's!"
ooh, girls, let me keep boarders,
tool" urged Rosa Nixon. 81 can't stay
here, if old Bobbinet mows down our
wages so pitifully. I haven't got any
capital, but I can make such stunning
cake and pie, and 1 can beat all creation
on bread, and biscuit and johnny cake.
81 could help you, too" said eager
Miss Daggett, who was q tall girl, with
hectic red spots on her cheeks. "That
is, if the house was out of repair. ]
painted all the inside of Cousin Dobson
Daggett's house once, and papered the
parlors in blue and buff. And you DOM
know how nice they looked! Oh, dc
take me, toow
'But it's all nonsense!" said Lillian.
"No, it isu'tm said Meta. "Listen
You and I keep boardcrs. Rosa is oul
cook. and Clara our carpenter. Here's
q fair beginning. Hush! here comes
old Bobbinet, looking as black as {
thunder cloud. Now for a lecture hal
an hour long. Well, let him blaz.
away. 1 don't care whether be discharge!
me or mott"
"What sort of a place is Watch Hill?'
whispered Clara Dagget.
''It's the seashore," said Netta-"di
rcctly on the grand Old Atlantic. The
very place for you to get strong in, Clara,
And I %say-suppose we ask Fanny Hoyt,
that little, ailing cash-girl, to come with
us2 She could wait on the table and
wash dishes, you know, and
"Young women! young women"
solemnly croaked Mr.. Robbinet, lis this
business"
But when the April winds began to
blow clouds of dust and whirlwinds Of
paper scraps about the streets, Lillian