Ellsworth American. [volume] (Ellsworth, Me.) 1855-current, 1885-05-28
Miscellaneous.
Romance and Cranbe tries.

Law, nov, Miss Josephine. yer don't
mean Nerd want ter stay through the
pick.u -
'ies. | do. Mrs. Crumsion. Why can't
l."
Wal, dunno what father'll say; none
Of our boarders ever did stay don't hev
no time to tend 10 CITY folks and their fanci-
fuls these times. and taint much ter see
ANYWAY
Now. Mrs Cfum>ton, call that shabby
IN YOU; have troubled you much his sum
mer with my CIT, air, ?"
''NC, that, fact yer han't and ri a
sight ruthrr be, YOU than some Of them
hIgh-illrr> as went up SATURDAY. But"
with a sharp New England lcok, "wha, do
Yer want ter siay fur ANYWAY ?"
"Oh, for fan partly and partly fer work !;
want to do some picking myself"
Mr>. Ctamston put down the dish she
was ~iPine, let her towel hang at half-mast
tur minute and stared at her boarder
"les, | guess Yer do; great shakes yerd
make at p,ckn' cranberries Suppose yer
,hiak IT, fun yer back, too straight and
Yer carry Yer head too high ter stoop all da,
IN a oranberr, field. 1t takes tough yirl.
lIkr my Jane here. and Maggie Bascomb ter
do >ech work. | didn't think yer Was 30
crack -hra,ned. Josephine"
Now, Mo Crum.ion. let u, reason for a
season" ard Miss Josephine Bra,ton
perchcd on the end of the kitchen table and
began shelllng some beans she found in
pan, tapping her little feet. with their strong.
serWceahIe boots, against the leg Of the
table and smiling comfortably. as people can
afford 10 who habtuaily have their own
way.
Just tell me which Of Us can wax the
iarthest IN hot August day. Jane there
glanclng At that thin. chalk faced girI. s,oop-
Ins over the ironing board -"or Maggie
Bascomh, with her dyspepsia headache, or
! Who picked the most blueberries al the
p.cnic last month, and who has the bes, ap-
petite for Your lovely bread and cookies ,"
a wise biz Of tla'tery that
That amt work, Miss Josephine"
Packing blueberries thought II
seemed ike II. and jus, think of the lars |
sent up to my mother, all my own canning =,
No, Mrs Crumston, You must be good and
I'll tell YOU secret. You see found Mag
ele Bascomh CRYING last night. and she said
II was because she should have TO give up
her place among the piekers next week; she
had depended on the picking for her fall
clothes and her trip 10 Boston. and .he
didn't want 10 lose it. Now I've had a
lovely summer here. but I've used up ever,
cent Of my pocket money. Father will pay
my board just as long as want TO stay. but
he Will not give me another bit till nv al
.owance Is due; fyou viii let me stay, III
Try picking IN Maggie's place. for a week
I'LL her sister gets better, and give her the
money. Here are your beans all shel!ed.
Nrs. Crumston,' jumping off the table, land
you'll let me do just as want TO, won't
you =
Yer allers will hev your own way. Miss
josephine, but ,er'll have ter settle il with
father about lettln' Yer pick
"Oh, I'll manage Mr. Crumston. never
YOU fear and so the thing was settled.
Mr. Eugene Bradford, LAWYER, of number
- C1m5erton Square, was sitting in his
office, one lovely September morning, med;
tatlng. 1t was TO be supposed he was puz-
zling his brains over some abstruse ques-
ton connected with legal lore, but he did
not look like III he was iaultlessly dressed
and his office chair, which he had tpped
laZIly backward. was softly cushioned and
padded. He appeared to be looking at his
hands, which were soft and smooth, though
a triie Drowned by his summer out-of- doors.
when the door was opened and his morning
mail was brought in. 1t seemed strange
that from out of the pile of letters placed
before him, some in blue and yellow en-
yelopes. very business like, and some in
thin, long envelopes, very lady like, this
gentleman should Immediately select a
thick. grlmy, coarse envelope, directed to
Mister Eugeen Bradford, "A cumberton
squar, Bostin," and bearing the heavy Cape
Cod post mark, which he who runs NAV
read. However, that is the one he took up
first, that the one he opened and this is
what he read =
Deer mister Bradford thet box of tools
Yer sent ME last weak is bully. i've used
'em lots and YOU bet my brakets an shells
is stunnln', i'm goin ter make Braket for
miss josefeen's room and put my monogram
on ii like the one in the pattern Book and
hey mi monogram over ther nu hen house
III. hant got much muse ter tell yer. She
amt goin nome to Bostn yet. Dads goin'
ter let her begin ter pick cranberries day
after termorrer long with the girls from the
village she's orful jolly but | bet her
back'll axe some. Z. s. mi old Jacknife
aint very good and to blades is broke.
hope this letters whot yer wanted. i've got
lots of your stamps left. yours Respekful
Tom Crumston."
After the perusal of this document, Mr..
Eugene Bradford, lawyer, looked at his
watch, made the sane remark, "Tom, you're
brick :" summarily disposed of the rest of
his mornings mail in his coat pocket, sum
moned the Office boy and told him he was
going out of town for several days on i'm
portant business and then disappeared from
the scene of his mornings meditations. Pos
sihly the noon train, with its few Cape pas
sengers, slowly pushing its way through the
sand, might have given some clew to his
sudden business but it did not.
ut does beat all, mother, how some wears
seem ter have run of luck in my pick
ers !" said Mr.. Crumston the next morning
to his better half as she was getting the
breakfast. ''lt'll be quick work and clean
work this year, and we'll come out square
about The mortgage before New Years"
''Got sny new hands ?"
Yes. feller came up from the village
last nigh, and asked for work don't look as
4 k..fo