Evening capital. (Annapolis, Md.) 1884-1910, 1885-08-08
FROWNs AND SMILES.

Mrs. Briggs had made mistake
She owned as much herself. And a
mistake must be very patent, indeed,
before Mrs. Briggs would own to il.
For she was one of those high-nOsed,
domincering females, who pretend TO
an almost supcrhuman foresight, and
believe they can read character as il it
were an open book.
Il never was so disappointed in q
girl in my life, y said Mrs. Briggs. ~
thought she had some grit about her.
But there! might as we'll have an
old dish-rag in my kitchen as Meta
Milton!''
Meta, herself, If the truth werc to be
told, was equally disillusionized. She
had fancied that life in the country
was all roses, new-mown hay and
njghtingales; and when 1t came to get
ting up at day-break, churning by the
half hour in blue-mold-smelling cell
lar, scrubbing kitchen floors and bak-
ing hot cakes for q tableful Of shirt
sleeved farm hands, she was complete
" taken aback.
There were no lanes wherein to ling
er at dusk (Mr. Briggs was q great
OtftA tOO C<AACAuA VI lis AeAH0 w 4OO dAly
part of it run to waste), no picturesque
old well-sweeps or ivy-clad ruins.
Cabbagcs grew in rows; onion
patches flung their perfume on the air,
and directly in front of the main door
there was field Of monster tobacco
leaves.
"And ef you've got any time to
spare, said Mr.. Briggs, you'd better
lay it out in pickin' them plaguy big
worms off the terbacker, instead o
cuttin' round the country arter Wild
flowers
Meta had been shop-girl in o
Bridgeport store before she camc to
her Cousin Briggs. Her health had
failed; the doctor had advised country
air, new milk and change of scene.
Mrs. Briggs, on being written to,
had unwillingly consented that Meta
should spend the summer there.
s'She must be poor cretur, indeed,
If she can't earn her board and little
more into the bargain, = said Mrs.
Briggs, who was one of those gripping,
grinding task-mistresses who think OF
trade and profit alone.
But Meta had not passed triumph
antly through the ordeal Perhaps She
had not fully regained her strength.
Perhaps she had become discouraged
with tho endless treadmill of work
which Mrs. Briggs provided for her.
She was pale, pretty GIRL with fair
hair. large. sorrowful blue eyes, and a
color that camc and went with d flick
ering brilliance.
"And it's my opinion, said Mrs.
Briggs, who was in the habit Of flying
around the house with her head tied up
in 3 cotton pocket-handkerch that
she spends deal too much time a-fix-
in' up and primpin' before the glass
white lace at her neck every day and q
ribbon bow and white aprons Of an az
ternoon. Checked gingham is good
enough for me and il ought to be for
her.
AT the end Of the FIRST month Mrs.
Briggs told Meta, with engaging frank
ness, that she had not proved equal to
the emergency.
II guess we don't want you here no
more. said Mrs. Briggs. you amt
got no more strength than rabbit,
and anyway. there ain no calculation
~D0tAt S0A9s = 1M may W tcA3 well -
q storc-gal, but you Won't never earn
your bread at general houseWork.
Meta sighed.
'sBut what am to do?'' said she.
Where am to goP''
That's your affair." said Mrs.
Briggs
And then she went 10 take her bread
out of the oven.
John Perkins, the nephew 81 the old
deacon who lived in the brick house on
the hill and had more money than the
best arithmetician id Yellow Plains
could count. came the next dav to drive
Meta and her poor little trunk to the
stage station.
John had seen Meta st church. He
had stood beside her more than once st
singing school; and one night when the
cattle were Obstreperous he had come
% the rescue and helped Meta drive
them home
So when Farmer Briggs sent over
word that his horse was lame. and ask
ea Tor the loan q Deacon Perkins roam
cob TO carry Meta Milton "a tic sta
ti0ns John himself had volunteered %
act as charioteor
Going away. hey said John. when
they had ridden short disiance ia 81.