Martinsburg herald. [volume] (Martinsburg, W. Va.) 1881-1920, 1886-04-10
SELECTIONS.
THE OLD BROWN CLOAK.

81 don't know as I've got any
thing to give,D said Farmer Fox
glove, looking obviously around the
kitchen.
Widow Waterman gave little
sniff OF mingled depreciation and hu-
mility.
"Times is very hard with me, Mr..
Foxglove," said she. 81 hain't had
no work since August, and there
is nothing to eat in the house.n
" You don't tell me!n said the far
mer, who was the softest hearted of
men. " Here, give me your basket !!
Philena'll say Pm an old fool ; but
don't care.n
With a trepidation not unlike the
sensation of a schoolboy who robs an
orchard for the first time, he went
into the buttery and helped himself
to half a cold roast fowl, loaf orrye
bread, goodly wedge of yellow but
ter out of covered stone jar and
three-quarters of a juicy apple pie.
And then he opened Mrs. Foxgloye's
especial tin tea caddy aud filched
handful of dried leaves, which he
wrapped up in brown paper and put
beside the other viands. And, chanc-
ing to notice how thin and made
quate the poor old woman's shawl
was, he recklessly took down an old
bombazine cloak, originally bright
brown, but now faded in as many
streaks as zebra hide, which had
hung from time immemorial in the
back entry.
There amt no more use in that
old dud," he thought. "And it'll
keep the cold out! And if Philena
makes fuss, "I'll give her a new
blanket shawl"
Mrs. Waterman went off rejoicing.
Presently Mrs. Foxgloye and Scrap
hina came home from the weekly
meeting of the Society for the Help
ers of the Heather injubilant spirits.
George Paterson was there,n
said Mrs. Foxglove. He said he
came for his aunt, but it was my be-
lief that he wanted to walk home
with Seraphina.n
Seraphina hung down her head
and said nothing.
ella, mel" said Mrs. Foxglove
from the kitchen. "What has come
to things? Here's the cold chicken
and the apple pie gone. And the
cover off the butter jar, too ~
Yves" said the farmer, cough
ing. "I-I got sort o. hungry, so
thought I'd inst take a smack
Where's the bombazine cloak
pa Y"-said Seraphina, after the some
what frugal supper, as she took the
cts raining little,
and the cows hay'nt come home from
pasture yet"
off | had pair Of eyes, I'd use
them," said Mrs. Foxglove, coming
to the rescue and viewing the row of
empty pegs with an eagle glance.
" Well, / declare, Nehemiah p turn |
ing to her husband, that comes of
leaving you to keep house. You must |
have gone off and left the door open,
and some tramp has got in and rob-
bed u.s."
g! did just step out to the wood |
pile for some more logs" said the
farmer, thankful for the avenue of
escape that was opened to him. "But
| wasn't gone long,"
The farmer wriggled aneasily in
bis cushioned rocking-chair.
/" | wish old Mrs. Waterman had
been III Jericho before she came here.n
he SAID to himself.
Meanwhile pretty Seraphina, sing
ing softly TO herself folded an old
striped shawl around her taper
shoulders, and went out to the pas
lures after the truant company of
COWS.
Old Tulips bell was iingling
among the silver stemmed birches on
the bleak hill; they were already on
the homeward path, but Seraphina
loitered unnecessarily on the foot.
bridge that spanned brawling
brook.
All was still and dusk; a certain
frosty sweetness was in the autumn
air, and the only visible person was
a woman further down the brook,