The Eaton Democrat. (Eaton, Ohio) 1875-1903, 1885-12-24
Shepard was astonished to see a lighsin her

4 ShCpalo was dSUO4lSQeQ 70 SeA a lt3hG1n mar
She ran upstairs to And Mary Martin,
."pripking before the glass, as Mrs. Shepard
told her husband. with her MISTRESS best
bonnet on, the lace scarf John Shepard had
sent her from Havana thrown lightly
round her neck, and, to be short, as Mrs.
Shepard's eyes descended FROM point to
point, every scrap of elegance most dear to
that lady was displayed on this huzzy's
form.
"Mary Martin, what are YOU doing2n
So still had been Mrs. ShepardFs stem.
and so eager Mary's pleasure, that she was
wholly unconscious of the fatal return from
meeting.
She turned amazed, forget all proprieties,
"Good Lord! Is that you," Theft and
profanity %conjoined.
MARY Martin, l am ashamed Of YOU!
Take these things off, and go straight to
And Mrs; Shepard spent the night awake,
thinking of a punishment. The girl would
| have returned to the "Home" before light,
but that neither Silas nor Mr.. Shepard
could give the necessary three hours to take
her to the station. So far the stars in their
courses worked for the poor child, If indeed
it was desirable that she should stay where
all that she did was wrong.
As for her, she went to sleep without
stairs las II for all the world nothing had
Poor Mrs. Shepard had still devised no
punishment Imprisonment would be d
part, II any she could devise; and, when
poor Mary appeared, SO unconscious and
sunny, it was not in the good 'woman's
neart TO begin a new controversy. Thus
far, as in a finite world often happens, the
PUNISHMENT did not fan upon the sinner.
And Mary went to the chickens as before.
But, when dinner time came the storm
cloud broke. Mrs. Bangs and George
Bangs mad arrived at noon, the advance
party OF the whole Bangs family, who
Shepard superintendihg, Lucy had set the
table with her own hands. The best table,
cloth was on and the best napkins, the best
glass and the best china. Lucy had even
cut her best flowers for the middle Of the
table, and all was complete excepting the
serving Of the actual dinner. The picked
wainutS, the celery, the currant and cram
berry Jelly Jelly were all in place:
daughter had left it,. Mrs. Shepard bore,
with her W hands, the goose hot from the
oven. One instant was enough to show that
some one had broken the beauty of both
mounds of jelly-indeed consumed part of
maurauder there was no doubt-had
dropped on the white table a quivering
mass of the plumber.
"Mary Martin, what have you done7"
And Mrs. Shepard turned, expecting to
see at least a fearful face, but there was no
Mary Martin. That lady had left the hot
potatoes in the kitchen n had taken ref
nge in the hay loft.
Nothing is more announcement than the
holding a court-martial in the presence of
visitors, or administering even the simplest
punishment. But in this case this was nee
essary. No witnesses were heard. The Gull
prit did not plead. No counsel were pres
emit. The Judge bade Silas find Mary, take
her to her bad room and lock her in. And
Silas did SO.
Mol 1 do not think this punishment was
as severe on Mary Martin asit was on Mrs.
For Mrs. Shepard, 1 am well aware that
it embittered all the afternoon. She had
promised herself the pleasure of once more
hanging a stocking from the ledge above
and figs and raisins and certain candies,
from Portsmouth. All this for one girl.
No stocking nowi
She did not once allude to her. Nor did her
husband. Nor did Silas. Nor did either of
her visitors, George Bangs and Mrs. Bangs.
All the same she did think of Mary hun
dreds of times, as the afternoon and even
ing passed.
They passed but slowly, let us confess, as
is the way with afternoons and evenings
when visitors have come who w been
long invited, when visitor and visited ave
put on their company manners, Inc when
ohCy AuNO " SIcdU uodl w say, III
being usually busy people, have, in honor
Of this visit, nothing to do.
Mrs. Shepard was not sorry when, as the
clock struck nine, Mrs. Bangs said that they
rose very early, and that she was tired.
There was a chance for all of them to go
to bed. And they went.
Yes; I am quite sure that Mary's punish
ment once more was more severe upon the
punisher than upon the punished.
For Mary was a ~campaigner of far too
mnch aYnarsianna I'm hQ mnoh dIcfnrhad nv
the confinement of a few hours, more or
less. The dinner she missed she was sorry
for. But, as the reader knows in part, she
had discounted some of its possibilities, and
know, how much farther she had gone in
the same direction. She was to spend
certain six hours in one place which she
would otherwise have spent in another.
This was, on the outside, all.
And her conscience!
Well, there you are too much for me.
Conscience she certainly had; and up to
a certain point, she was undoubtedly sorry
that she had wounded or panied Mrs. Shep-
ard, whom she really liked, and for whose
kindness she was really grateful. But this
sorrow was mixed with a certain regret for
the accident by which, as she supposed, she
had been betrayed-the "gob," as she would
have called it, on the table cloth. Mrs.
Shepard's pride in the elegance of her jelly
mould was wholly beyond Mary's compre-
tension. As for a sense that she had taken
what was not hers, this panied her but
little. She looked on food much as a squir.
rel looks or nuts, with a vague notion of
neurn, perhaps, but only a very vague no
ton of tuum.
No, dear reader-of remorse, as you and
I try to fancy remorse, as a gnawing fang
or tooth which will never be .satisfied-of
that our poor Mary had virtually none.
She lay on her bed, comfortably covered
with the bed quilt, and, raised by her elbow,
she surveyed the passage of the afternoon
OF. the farm. She was grimlY pleased when
she saw her mistress essay the feeding of
| the hens, which would naturally rave de-
volved upon her. She was more pleased
when she saw Silas fulfilling certain duties
of wood-carTying and ash-bearing-which
would have been hers were she not i'm
prisoned. Darkness came and the child fell
asleep. At seven O'Clock her door was
| pushed open and a plate with a slice of
bread and a mug of water were left upon
the floor. Then with some ceremony the
she had not undressed herself; she ate the
bread, drank the water and looked out upon
the night.
The moon rose nearly full. The snow,
and the fall at the sawmill, and the ice of
the pond beyond, flashed with the glory.
Mary saw Silas go and come with his
lantern, as he took his last turn at the barn,
and she pondered how he could come back
into the night. Former, her one wish. since
the ice had made the week before, had been
to possess herself of Silas' skates, which
were hanging in the harness room, and to
try them on the m%illpond. Of course Silas
would now put them on as soon as he had
watered the oxen.
But of course Silas did no such thing. He
had been at work since before daybreak.
He was glad enough to go to bed at eight
o'clock. Moonlight or pitch darkness were
all n to tired Silas.
Then absolute silence came. And Mary
Martin, really for the first time felt that
her imprisonment was serious.
To be hindered from washing the dishes,
from feeding the hens, and from fetching
the kindling was hardly a grievance.
But to be hindered from this possible hour
of skating yonder-that was serious indeed.
wa Sus s eY est MAY sSe 8 fn lmy,nG her b courage dsep gave e
for sleep, when, to her surprise, a bang
| douyn cfoirc opnn,,pnad that Nv Sho,o,