The Opelousas courier., 1885-09-12
THE OLD BROWN CLOAK.

81 don't know as I've got anything
to give" said Farmer Foxglove, look
ing obviously around the kitchen.
Widow Waterman gave a little sniff
of mingled depreciation and humility.
"Times is very hard with me, Mr..
Foxglove,' said she. II hain't had
no work since August, and there
hain't nothin to eat in the house"
"You don't tell mel" said the far
mer, who was the softest hearted of
men. "Here, give me your basket
Philena'W say I'm an old fool; but |
don't care"
With a trepidation not unlike the
sensation of a schoolboy who robs an
orchard for the first time, he went
into the buttery and helped himself to
half a cold roast fowl, a loaf of rye
bread, a Peodly wedge Of yellow but
ter out of a covered stone jar and
three-quarters OF a juicy apple pie.
And then he opened Mrs. Foxglove's
especial tin tea caddy and ilched a
handful of the fragrant dried leaves,
which he wrapped up in brown paper
and put beside the other viands. And,
CHANGING to notice how thin and mad
equate the poor old woman's shaw
was, he recklessly took down an old
bombazine cloak, originally a bright
brown, but now faded in as many
streaks as a zebra hide, which had
hung from time immemorial in the
back entry.
s.There amt no more use in that old
dud," he thought. "And it'll keep
the cold out! And il Philena makes a
fuss, I'LL give her a new blanket
shawl"
Mrs. Waterman went off rejoicing
Presently Mrs. Foxglove and Seraphi-
ma came home from the weekly meet
Ing of the Society for the Helpers of
the Heather in jubilant spirits.
'Q1eorge Paterson wass there" said
Mrs. Foxglove. He said he came
for his aunt. but it was my belief that
he wanted to walk home with Sera-
pima"
Seraphina hung down her head ard
said nothing.
"La, mel" said Mrs. Foxglove from
the kitchen. "Wllat has come to
things? Here's the cold chicken and
the apple pie gonet And the cover off
The butter jar, tool"
aY-yes." said the farmer. coughing.
Ill got sort o hungry, SO l thought
I'D jest take a snack"
where's the bombazine cloak, pap
said Seraphina, after the somewhat
frugal supper, as she took the milking
pail. aIt's raining a little, and the
COWS haven't come home from pasture
Yet"
IF / had a pair of eyes, I'd S
them" said Mrs. Foxglove, coming to
the rescue and viewing the row of
empty pegs with an eagle glance.
"WeI, ] declare. Nehemiah" turning
to her husband, that comes of leav-
Ing you TO keep house. You must
have gone off and left the door open,
and some tramp has got in and robbed
u.s."
Il did just step out TO the wood-pile
for some more logs said the farmer,
thankful for the avenue of escape that
was opened to him. "But 1 wasn't
gone long"
The farmer wriggied uneasily in
his cushioned rocking-chair.
II wish old Mrs. Waterman had
been In Jericho before she came herelr'
he said to himself.
Meanwhile pretty Seraphina, sing
ing softly to herself folded an old
striped shawl around her taper shout
ders, and went out to the pastures
after the trnant company Of cows.
ga Tulips bell was jangling among
the silyer-stemmed birches on the
bleak hill; they we're already on the
holnewara path. but seraphina loitered
unnecessarily on the foot-bridge that
spannsd 3 bsawlIng brook.
Al svas ssill and dusk; i certain
frosty sweetness vii ii the autumn
air, and the only visible person Mi I
n farther down the brock. who
was dipping out water.
Suddenly there va another step
strong. Witt and fun of purpose.