St. Paul daily globe. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn.) 1884-1896, 1885-03-13
A LITTLE SHOP-GIRL.
From the Springfield Union.

and on Friday evening l am going there 10
make up all that / can, so That the school
children will buy them on Saturday. |
know how to make cinnamon apple tarts,
too, and lemon drops and cocoanut balls"
sGrace, do believe you have taken leave
of your senses,'' said Medora May. Zone
would think 1t was disgrace enough for Aunt
Deborah--our own mothers sister-to open a
horrid little huckster shop without our mix
ing ourselves up ir the affair"
"Aunt Debby must live, you know" said
Grace, who was perched, kitten fashion, on
the window sill, feeding the canary with bits
of sparkling white sugar. "And Cousin Nix
on couldn't keep her any longer, and her
eyes are not strong enough for fine needle
work, and her education has not fitted her
to be teacher, and her poor rheumatic
homes keep her from going behind a counter
or entering factory. suppose you wouldn't
be willing to have her come here and live
with you!'
opp cried Medora. "Do you suppose
want to proclaim to the whole town that l
have such dilapidated old relation as thats''
az would take her quick enough" said
Grace, s'if 1 didn't board with Mrs. Hewitt,
and share the little upstairs back room with
the two children. just wait until l marry
some rich man." she added, with a saucy
uplifting of her auburn brows, ''and see if
don't furnish up a stately apartment for
Aunt Debby!"
s'Don't talk nonsense" said Medora,
acidly. ''It's very likely, isn't it. that fac
tory girl like you is going to marry a rich
man!'
Grace Craxall laughed mcrrily. All
through life she and her cousin, Medora May,
had agreed to differ on most points Grace,
seeing no other career before her, had, on
the death of her last surviving parent, cheer
fully entered a factory, while Medora, taking
her stand on the platform of false gentility,
had done fine sewing and silk embroidery
on the sly to support herself, putting on all
the airs of young lady of fashion the while.
And now Aunt Deborah May, to the infinite
disgust of her aristocratically inclined niece,
had actually opened little low-windowed
shop in shady street just out of the main
thoroughfare, and as Medora despairinglY ex-
pressed it, ''gone into trade!'
For Aunt Debby, in her bewildered loneli-
ness, had scarcely known what to do until
Grace Craxall came to the rescue with her
hopeful courage and straightforward com
mon sense.
81 only wish it wasn't sinful to take good
the way,'' sighed the poor old lady.
''Now, Aunt Debby, that doesn't sound a
bit like you,'' said Grace cheerfully.
'But what am I to do?' said Aunt Deb
orah.
"What can you dos"
81 don't know as 1 am good for anything,"
said the old lady, with quiet tear or two,
Except to help around the house, and 1
Co. l.. ha1,
Your uncle always used to say that I was
a master hand at making bread.n
''Then make it, brightly interrupted
Grace.
':Eh?'' said Aunt Debby.
''There's a nice little store to let on Bay
street." went on Grace, ''for SO month"
''But haven't got $40 month";" feebly
interrupted Aunt Deborah.
'sI'll lend it to you,n said Grace, "out of
the wages 1 have saved. And there's pretty
bedroom at the back of the shop, and
clean, dry basement under it, where you
can bake your bread. know, for the sister
of the lady where / board is looking for dress
making rooms, and heard her speaking
aboutit."
''Do you mean to open bakery?" said
bewidered Aunt Debby.
NOI tAdCIlS tudt, CApldluSu OldCc'
"But if Mrs. Hewitt or Mrs. Taylor, or any
other ladies around here coutd get real home
made bread such as you make, do you sup
pose they would put up with the sour stuff
they get at the bakers shops! And you
could easily get up reputation on your
raisin cakes and fried crullers, and New En-
land pumpkin pies. Now couldn't you?'
The old lady frightened up little.
IN ha or I'M >
said she. "And if you think could sup
port myself 500
~ am sure of iti'' cried cheerful Grace.
And I'll go with you this very day to look at
the place, and will engage it for three
months ON trial. And can paint you a
sign to put over the door: Homemade
bread by Mrs. Deborah Mayr And I'll hem
you some curtains and arrange the shelves
in the low window l almost wish / was go
ing to be your shop-girlr' she added, mer-
rily. "But can help you in the evening,
you know"
Grace Crazall's prophecies proved correct.
Aunt Debby's delicious homemade bread,
whittier than powdered lilies, sweet az ambro-
STA. soon acquired reputation, and the old
lady could scarcely bake 1t fast enough.
People came half dozen blocks to buy
the yellow pumpkin pies and delicious apple
tarts: children brought their boarded pen
mics To invest in chocolate sweetmeats, va
nilla caramcls, and cream cakes with puffy
shells and delicious centers of sweetness.
The little money-drawer grew fat with coins,
aud Aunt Debby's eyes grew bright and
hopeful again.
And one day Herbert Valance, walking by
with Medora May, stopped and looked in.
''Isn't that your cousin Grace" said he,
'behind the couDter!''
Medora turned crimson with vexation.
"My cousin Grace! she said. ''No in
deedl We are not--in trade!"
What possessed her to utter this deliberate
falsehood Medora could not afterward have
told. Partly the sting of shame, partly
disinclinaton for Herbert Valance to know
that her relations were not, 10 use her ex-
preston, 'ladies and gentlemen"
Mr.. Valance looked up at the sign over the
door.
THE name is May" he remarked, indiff-
erently.
yes said Medora, angr at herself
blushing so deeply, "but we are no relation"
Mr.. Valance thought over the matter; he
met Miss May at party given by
a friend, where pretty Grace Craxall was also
present; he had taken rather fancy 10 the
delicate blonde beauty of the former. Val
ance hall, on the hill just out Of the city, was
solitary enough now that his sisters had all
married and gone away, and perhaps man
might find less attractive and graceful wife
than Medora Nav. But be could not be
mistaken in Grace Craxalls identity.
And so the next evening, about the same
time, he ssuntPred into the shop.
Grace was behind the daintily clean little
counter, taking some newly baked maple
caramels off the pan. She looked up with
smile.
Good evening Mr.. Valance" said she,
49," he thought, 81 wasn't mistaken
after all. And the little blue-eyed seraph is
mortal enough to tell a lie in spite Of her an
gelic aDDearapceI ~