The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1885-12-26

| she would nave calleu IL SOOu
! iawing" In fact, neither of them kept
any journal Mary relieved her feelings
| by giving the hens twice their allowance.
After tea she was sent to bed at seven
O'Clock, by way of further punishment
| Poor Mrs Shepard watched with tears,
| nay, with prayers, all the next day for
| tokens Of contritiOn. But such tokens
were very few, if any. The girl did bring
| in Lucy'S thimble, which Lucy had dropped
| in the wagon. She could Just as well as
| not" have kept it, Mrs Shepard said, and
| sold it to the first peddlor But she didn't;
| she brought it in, just as pleased as any
| thing On the other hand, when Silas
| Pike, the hired man, came in, when Mrs.
| Shepard questioned him as to the language
which Mary used in familiar conversation
| in the barn. ne grinned from ear to ear He
| could not remember much-clearly he did
not wish to go back on the child. But he
implied that there was frequent reference
to a place of torment, as well as to the
enemy of souls, as Mrs. Shepard had heard
before, and so retiCenJ was Silas, that she
ceased in her examination from very fear
of what it light elicit
That evening she went to the Sacrament
lecture with her husband-or tried to. But
when they were passing Deacon Llttle's
house, Miranda Little ran out to tell them
that ParsOn NOyes had a sore throat, and
| that the lecture would be postponed So
they turned back, and were at home again
in an hour from the time of starting. Mrs.
Shepard was astonished to see light in her
own bedroom.
She ran upstairs to find Mary Martin,
''prinking before the glass, as Mrs. Shepard
told her husband with her mistresss best
bonne5 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 doingr'
So still had been Mrs. Shepard's step,
and so eager Mary's pleasure, that she was
wholly unconscious Of the fatal return from
meeting.
She turned amazed forgot all proprieties,
and cried:
Good Lord Is that you?" Theft and
profanity cOnjOined.
MARY Martin, l am ashamed. of YOU
Take these things off, and go straighc>eo
bed"
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
anxiety, Slept Ulll morning, ana came uOWn
stairs "as if for all the world nothing had
happened"
Poor Mrs. Shepard had still devised no
punishment. Imprisonment would be
part, if any she could devise; and, when
poor Mary appeared, so unconscious and
sunny, it was not in the good woman's
heart to begin new controversy. Thus
far, as in a finite world often happens the
punishment did not fall 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 had arrived at noon, the advance
party of the whole Bangs family, who
were to spend their Christmas here. Mrs.
Shepard experimenting, 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
walnuts, the celery, the currant and cram
berry jelly were all in place.
To this table, fifteen minutes after her
daughter had left it, Mrs. Shepard bore,
with her own 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
each, and in her haste-fOr of the sex of the
maurauder there was no dOubt-had
dropped on the white table a quiveTing
mass of the plumber.
MARY Martin, what have you dOne?"
And Mrs Shepard turned, expecting to
| see at least fearful face, but there was no
Mary Martin. That lady had left the hot
potatoes in the kitchen and had taken ref
uge in the hay loft.
Nothing is more inconvenient than the
| holding a courtmartial in the presence of
visitors, or administering even the simplest
| punishment. But in this case this was nee
| essary. No witnesses were heard. The cul-
| prit did not plead. No counsel were pres
emit. The judge babe Silas find Mary, take
| her TO her bed room and lock her in. And
| Silas did so.
No! I do not think this punishment was
| as severe on Mary Martin as it was on Mrs.
| Shepard.
| For Mrs. Shepard am well aware that
| it embittercd all the afternoon. She had
| promised herself the pleasure of once more
| banging a stocking from the ledge above
the kitchen fire, and Of filing it with apples
| and figs and raisinS and certain candies,
which for this very purpose she had ordered
from Portsmouth. All this for one girl
| No stocking now,
She pretended She did nos think OF Mary.
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 have been
| long invited, when visitor and visited have
put on their company manners, and when
they have not a great deal to say, and
being usually busy people, have, in honor
| of this visit, nothing to do.
| Mrs. Shepard was nOtsOrTy when, as the
clock struck nine, Mrs. Bangs said that they
rose very early, and that she was tired.
There was chance for all of them to go
to bed. And they went.
Yes; am quite sure that Mary's punish
| menJ once more was more severe upon the
| punisher than upon the punished.
For Mary was a campaigner of far too
| much experience to be much disturbed by
| the confinement of few hours, more OF
less. The dinner she missed she was sorry
for. But, as the reader knows in part, she
had discounted some OF its possibilities, and
| the reader does not know, and need not
the same direction. She was to spend
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 foI
the accident by which, as she supposed, She
| had been betrayGd-the COB as she would
have called it, on the table cloth Mrs
| ShCuaTd'S Drde in the plppnnce of her iellV