Alpena weekly argus. [volume] (Alpena, Mich.) 1871-1893, 1885-07-08

house. Where do the men get thos,
curlously shaped sack coats which bag
SO in the back and sleeycsp But thai
the days of peripatetic female tailor,
are over. we should say that these gar
ments were their work. These mer
SLOUGH in and ont of doors, talking In
mumbling voices, while their women
in prim dresses pat their hair before
the little looking-glassi in the bedroom,
then come out one by one, and peer
! over the table at us. They talk, too
and discuss how well, or how i'll the
minister did. One thinks he did not
/ improve the occasion correctly. an
other that he was not sufficiently
'feelin' in his prayer for the wilder. "
"Widders Is 'customed to bein' prayed
fur more particular" said Nancy Hol.
land, who spoke, suppose from expe.
rience, she having been a widow twice
before she married her Robert
Though they all talk, they are evi.
IDENTIFY impatient for the feast. No less
than ten carriage loads have come.
We learn from the remark of one thin,
pale-faced woman that it is q dstinc-
ton to have good many come back
from the grave and partake of the fes-
tival.
"When Miss Martin was buried they
only had six carriages to supper" she
says, in congratulatory way to the
bereaved woman, as If in Mrs. Ewell's
case sorrow had its compensations.
warren, he had a good many
friends" replied the widow, a glimmer
of complacency on her face, which is
careworn and sallow.
In few minutes we have the first
tables full, including the minister, who
Is in hurry, having another funeral
to attend Mt three o'clock. He drinks,
thirstily, three cups of tea, and is hus-
tied off after handshake and gentle
murmur of coincidence to the widow.
For the next hour my sister and l
might have been walters in crowded
restaurant. We find the feasters very
particular about their coffee and tea,
and very copious in their consumption
of those beverages. We have cut the
third stack of corned beef, of bread and
of cake. We have emptied one pickle
jar, and am going down cellar after
a second; for one cadaverous woman,
in a blue and green gingham dress,
seems to subsist on pickles, and is very
arbitrary in her remarks to me con-
corning those relishes. She appears to
think that, in some mysterious way,
am responsible for the fact that there
is whitish mould on some of these
preserved cucumbers. Whom | hand
her the dish the third time she says in
a husky whisper:
There ought to a. been baked
beans. Why didn't ye see to itP Hand
me them cakes. Amt there no beans
in the house anyhow"
81 saw bushel of raw beans in the
shed" can not help saying. She
tossed her head, pointed to her cup.
and said Tea"
hurried off cravenly to obey her.
We washed dishes furiously between
whites, so that the supply might not
fail. After the first tableful had been
fed, i ran down the cellar for more
pies. l fell against the woman in
checked Bingham, who was leisurely
looking about Probably she was
herself that really there
was no beans.
"It's good sullcr," she said, calm
". al alters did want ter see Miss
Ewelrs suller. She says it don't
freeze; but l d'n know bout tibet.
How much pork hev they got pu'
1own?" l did not answer her; ! may
have laughed in her face. She seemed
contemplate.
Mounting the stairs with three tiers
Of pies in each hand, whom should |
meet but the new-made widow. She
caught hold of my sleeve, and asked,
,xcitcdly:
"Whar's that Miss Skilesp l knew
she was pryin'! .Jcs' get her out o.
IhereW / left Mrs. E,gell hurricdly de-
;cendng the stair. How the encounter
ended neverknew.
The afternoon wore away in melting
heat and increasing work. At last
the slow-motioned men brought round
their horses and covered wagons, those
big carriages that, in childhood we
used to call "bed-rooms. Deliber-
ltely the women mounted into these
vehicles and were carried of. Ex-
faint, not having had time 10
,at n morscl, we walked homewarvl,
by .an"y Holland, who,
though unable To leave Robert, had yet
to the last minute.
81 don't think Miss Ewell she took it
very hard" said Nancy, her head bob
Ding up and down in her earncstncss.
II watched her all through the re-
marks an the prayer, and, eff you'll be-
ieve it, she never cried a drop. She
es' suit still. | declare. | should a.
thought she'd a cried littler'
That is one of the funerals where We
we're walters. -Rdnsonc Mass. Cor.
" T. Tribune.