The Manchester journal. [volume] (Manchester, Vt.) 1861-current, 1885-12-24

4
The orange GLOW Of the March twilight
threw the leafsss copse into strong re-
lief; ths little brook had burst its shiei
crust Of icc. aud sang merrily under ths
velvet fringe Of the pussy willows. aud
up from the woods there came al indes
csibsbie odor sf spring. A red flag. rolled
up and lsd around lis stick With hemp
string. 10y Just inside tie door yard. vher
Mrs. Grgson came in with The last pail ol
vater that she should ever draw from ths
old we'll She sighed as she filled ths
squat copper kettle and hung II over the
fire.
The suctisn sale Is 10 be tomorrow,
said she, and / never vas SO glad OF any
thing 10 oil my born days. Such time
as I've had cleanin' and scrubbin' down
and scouriu' and polispin'l There sin't
bone in my body but aches.
It's al time and trouble thrown away.
sepulchrally observed Mis- Kstchum, Who
had dropped in on her way from the store;
the old traps wont sell for sixpenoe apiece
lyon ~ il they do. @
But the things Amt no use 10 me, said
Mrs. Grigson, and need little money
20 awful bad As for the poor luck I've
bad sinie BIT through, there ain't no cslcu'
latin it. Even down to my last gold dol
larl
Eh? said Miss Ketchum. Being Of .
melancholy turn, she liked TO hear sad
recitals. although personally her symps-
thies were entitled on the widow Grigson's
side.
Why, It was last week, said Mrs. Grig-
son, in the level complaining tone that
always reminds you Of the little brook
down the hollow. Brother Lyman left
his little Brazil monkey here over night.
He was a.calculai in to sell him to Mrs.
Gartney's little b, ". John Henry. And
ef you'll believe m the mis'able critter
swallowed my gold dollar I'd left on my
bureau to pay the meat peddler with,
and dropped my sill yer specs down the
we'll.
La said Miss Ketc hum.
seen him cham Vim it between his
jaws. said Mrs. Grigs on, and shake and
squeeze HIM as l woulo,,- 1 couldn't get IL
out Of himl
Well, l never didI remarked Miss
Ketchum.
1t did seem as ef that was th last straw
that broke the camels back, sig. he'd Mrs.
Grieson. Brother Ly man he was dread
full consarned about it, but he co. uldn'
do notLin' for me. He offered to kill the
monkey, but ! knowed how disappoint> "a
John Henry Gartney would be, and, sftel
all, the critter had acted only acccrdin' to
bis natur', and they was TO pay brother
Lyman dollar and half for him. As
for the spess, brother Lyman fshcd EN-
up with pole with crooked pin hitch
ed on the end ont. The glasses was broke,
but the frames are good yet. I'm calki-
latin to get EN- mended when
Wonder how much the feather beds II
go for? said Miss Ketchum, breaking in
On the monotnous refrain.
There amt no tellin', said Mrs. Grig.
son. They're dreadful old. Aunt Militia.
BILE she'd KEEP honse for 40 years. and nev.
sr bad nothin' new. / don't spose an
lnction sale will pay. but what else could
do With oil the old dudsi Square Dag
yett wants possessioa Of the place at once,
md
Amt goin' to sell these ere house
Giants, be ye? said Miss Ketchum, nod
ling toward green painted stand in the
corner.
Brother Lyman thought they might
ring few cents, said Mrs. Grigson.
Ind the stand ought to be worth q quar-.
er Of dollar. II had . new coat Of paint
year ago. give one Jrusalem cherry
rec to Abigail Barton for helpin' me to
lean out the old cupboards. She's been
|readful neighborly, and she wouldn't
AXE penny for what she did.
More fool she, curtly observed Miss
Ietcbum. I'dlike that thar monthly rose ,
sith the striped blooms on it.
Itis pretty, said Mrs. Grigson, ig- II
oring the broad hint And guess it'll g
ell cheap. I'd like some friend to hev it,
or the slip j. growed from was given me !
y Grissou the very first year we were :
married.
And she was not invited to stay to tea,
iiss Ketchum At last went away. leaving '
irs. Grigscn sitting sorrowfully beside \
be fire Of discarded barrel slaves, ruinous
acking boxes, ancient chair legs, and 4
Iooden stools which had absolutely refus.
q 10 be made capable OF further service. a
Aunt Mittsble" - which name was per- \
ersion Of the good old New England |,
rnnomen Mehitabe had been oil the 4
iother she had known, and il seemed Al
,nesome enough to be sitting there in the q
mpty house with Aunt Mittable tucked i,
way in the corner Of the frozen church /,
ard. Her husband was dead, and her A
iree little children were. struggling up in h
40 world as best they could. She had
ad position as janitress in q public a
,hool. but sbe had lost ii when she came
, Mullen farm to nurse Aunt Mittsble 10 1,
er last illness; and now she scarcely :,
new which way TO turn. Brother Lyman 4
or only living relative. was poorer than !.
erself-a good hearted empty pocksted
au. who occupied some position on . a
'iling vessel which piled between Boston h
ID the Azore isllnds. There was mort. n
lge on the place which had swallowed
p all aspirations 10 the direction Of sell. a
g IT, and Mrs. Grigscn family hoped :
.sf the suctfou HslN fuf0ht hain IA ,,av