The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1885-02-08
AN OBJECT OF LOVE.

a few bleak violet. colored ones in the west Be-
| tween them the sky showed clear, cold yellow.
The air was very still and the trees stood out
| distinctly.
''Thar's goin' to be a heavy FROST sure enough
| said Ann Millet '.I'n have to git the squashes
in"
| She stood in the door, surveying the look out
| side, as she said this. Then she went in, and
| presently emerged with a little black shawl
pinned closely over her head, and began work.
This was tiny white painted house, with
door and one window front, and a little piazza,
| over which the roof jutted. and on which the
kitchen door opened on the rear corner. The
| squashes were piled up on this piazza in great
yellow and green heap.
| IA splendin lot they air. said Ann. I'D
| orter be thankful" Ann always spoke of her
| obligation to duty and never seemed to think of
| herself as performing the duty itself "Pd orter
| be thankful" said she always.
| Her shawl. pinned closely over her hair and
| ears. showed the small oval Of her face The
| greater part of it seemed to he taken up by
| heavy forehead, from under which her deep-set
blue eyes looked with strange, solemn express
sion. She looked alike at everything. the clear
This expression, taken in connection with her
| little delicate old face, had something almost
| uncanny about it. Some people complained of
(! feeling nervous when Ann looked at them.
"Thar's Mis- Stone comm" said she. Hope
to goodness she won't stop an bender mel Lor'
| sakes! / orter hev more patience"
tall, STOPPING figure came up the street. and
| passed at her gate hesitatingy
| "Good-evenin', Ann"
GOOD even,' Mis- Stone. Come in, wontIyeg"
Mrs Stone came in the gate, and walked up to
| the piazza, and stopped.
"Gettin' in your squashes, amt you9"
''Yes didn't dare risk 'em out tonight, it's
SO cold. I left 'em out last year, an they got
| touched, an it about spoilt 'em!"
''Well, I should be kinder afraid to risk 'em;
| it's good deal colder than had any idea of
when came out. thought I'd run over to
Mis- Maxwells minute, so jest clapped on this
| head-tie, an this little cape over my shoulders,
| an I'm chilled clean through. I don't know but
I've TUX cold. Yes, I'd take 'em in. We got
ourn in last week, such as they was. We amt
got more'n half as many as you hev. shouldn't
think you could use 'em all, Ann"
well, ! do. / alters liked squashes
an Willy likes 'em too. You'd
orter see him brush round me, a-roundin' up his
back an purrin when I'm a-scrapin' of 'em out
of the she'll He likes 'em better'n fresh meat"
Seems queer for a cat to like such things.
| Ourn won't touch 'em; he's awful dainty. How
nice an big your cat looks a-settin' thar in the
window
Hes a-watchin' of me. He jumped up thar
| jest the minute come out"
Hes good deal of company fur you, amt
hefp
'Yes. he is. What on airth should do this
long winter that's COMM without him, don
know Everybody wants somethin' that's alive
in the house."
''That's So 1t must DE pretty lonesome for
you anyway. Ruth an me often speak of it,
when we look over here specially in the winter
| season, some of them awful stormy nights we
hev"
"Well, don't mean to complain, anyway. I'd
orter be thankful. I've got my Bible an Willy,
| an roof over my head, an enough to eat an
| wear; an good many folks Eev to be alone, as
fur as other folks is concerned this airth. An
p'haps some other woman amt lonesome because
/ am, an maybe she'd be of the kind that didn't
like cats, an wouldn't hev got along half as well
as me. No: I've got good many mercies to be
thankful fur-moren kin count an moren I
deserve never orter to complain"
well, if all of us looked at our mercieS
moren our trials, we'd be good deal happier.
But, sakes! l must be goln'. I'm catchin' cold.
an I'm henderin you. It's supper-time too.
You've got somethin cookin' in the house that
smells good"
Eyes; it's some stewed temarter alters like
somethin' kin eat butter an pepper on sech
night as this"
9Wel somethin' of that kind is good Good
night, Ann"
Good night Mis- Stone. Coin to meetin' TO-
night?"
'.Im gon' eff Ruth don't. One of us has to
stay with the children you know. Good night"
Mrs. Stone had spoken in a very high pitched
tone all the while Ann was somewhat deaf.
She had spoken loudly and shrilly too; so now
there was sudden lull, and one could hear
cricket chruping somewhere about the door,
Mr.. Stone, pulling her tiny drab cape tighter
across her STOPPING, rounded shoulders, hitched
rapidly down the street to her own home, which
stood on the opposite side, little below AIMS,
and Ann went on tugging in her squashes
I'm glad she's gone" she muttered looking
after Mrs. Stones retreating figure. Il didn't
know how to be rendered minute. I'd orter
| hev more patienceW
She had to carry in tho squashes one at time.
She was little woman, and although she had
been used to hard work all her life, it had not
been of kind to strengthen her muscles; she
had been dressmaker. So she stepped pa
tiently into her kitchen with a squash and out
without one; then in again with one. She piled
them up in heap on the floor in corner.
THEY'LL hev to 60 up on that shelf over the
mantel," said she, tomorrow. l can't git 'em
| up thar tonight an go to meetn nohow."
She had double shelf of implanted pine
TlEpeu OSGI tnc OIuiHdhy NHO iot hCt nHu"SHCS
! After the squashes were all in, Ann took off
! her shawl and hung it on a nail behind the
! kitchen door. Then she set her bowl of smoking
| hot tomato stew on little table between the
! windows. and sat down contentedly.
There was white cloth on the table, and some
| bread and butter and pie beside the stew. Ann
| looked at it solemnly. I'D orter be thankful,s
said she. That was her way of saying grace,
/ Then she fell to eating with relish This sol
emn. spiritually looking old woman loved her food,
| and had keen lookout for it, Perhaps she got
a spiritual enjoyment out of it, too, besides the
! lower material one. Perhaps hot stewed toma-
toes, made savory with butter and pepper and
! salt, on frosty November night, had for her
] subtle flavor of home comfort and shelter and
coziness, appealing to her imagination, besides
| the commoner one appealing to her palate.
| Before anything else, though-before seating
herself-she had given her cat his of
warm milk in a snug corner by the stove. He