The times and democrat. [volume] (Orangeburg, S.C.) 1881-current, 1886-08-12
There's no sperrit IN fasting

overhead, all the while kindling fire, and
preparing the table, and ceasing her gabble
only to 20 and draw kettle Of water FROM
come back place.
There was dispatch in the old ,roman's
method Of going to work, and quiet, too,
were it not for the subdued, eternal cackle Of
her tongue, that would have made sick man
love her She produced another candle and
Frightened up the room, and presently the
kettle was blowing out its flanient Of steam.
Snow, mistress" ;" said she ''here be a dish
of tea which all CLANCY, where the herb
grows, as I've heard, couldn't match. J'sta
shred of bread, with this fine new butter, III
give that egg relish as yeu nlVer
cease to remember. Come, come! sin we mum
both keep awake, there's naught like tea-or
tay, as my mother used to call it; and that's
the right word, though in these queer times
q body hath no liberty. Well, will ye not
laugh over this feast some days reckon
MIR. Shaw III make ye see joke in It, for I
niyer knew blue eye like his that didn't
mean merry heart; and this will I say of
your husband, mistress, that since the days
when poor Will Hacket coorted me i silk
stockings. I've niver seen prettier lad than
Mr.. Cuthbert Shaw. Crack the egg, my
dear, an if ye shall tell the inside Of it from
cream, I'll swallow the shell. It's middl'ng
late for supper, but as thy father once said
TO me fifteen years ago, whea loved bit o
riband as has no relish now, we're all arti-
fetal creatures-which is the Lords truth.
Why shouldn't body eat L the middle O the
night as well as the morn! Come, come,
make beginning, or I'll not go along Wi
ye"
. "But I do not want you to come along with
me. Mrs. Mead Indeed, should not allow
YOU to leave your house after keeping you
from your bed-no, truly, though I love you
dearly for your kindness" " exclaimed Jenny.
"Do you think I should let pretty young
woman walk alone to Winston at this time
O. morn, with her box and her sweet face to
court livery smock she may come across"
cried Mrs Mead, posing a saucer on level
with her nose, and straining her eyes at
Jenny over it, "What is summers morn
ing walk to met If I can't hinder thee from
leaving home, III see thee safe in t. coach any
ways, and thatu be something for mo to tell
thy mother"
The need Of companionship was strong in
Jenny. All the way to Winston, with long
waiting for the coach, was a weary under
taking, and what society should she have
but bitter thoughts: Besides, q little touch
of comfort there was in the feeling that her
mother would know that no harm had be-
fallen her, if Mrs Mead gave the story so
for as her promise of secrecy permitted.
But there was that in the old woman's face
which helped Jenny to prompter acceptance
of the offer than otherwise her sweetness
would have sanctioned. Mrs Mead was
clearly determined, and ready to quarrel,
that her will should have its way So the
lonely hearted girl, with the saddest smile on
her white face, went up to the dame and
thanked her with kiss upon the ripples Of
her forehead; and had she been man,
favor more delightful the old woman could
not have made it seem. But oh, what con.
trast when the faces were together!
Now slowly, as they sat IN these small
hours-outside, the solemn stiffness Of the
night, and within, no sound but the hum
ming Of the kettle to threed the melodious
complaining notes of the girl and the creak-
ing tones of her sympathetic listcner-the
faint end mystical light of the new day,
creeping from the infinite abysm into the
towering chambers Of tho western heavens,
stood paley on the window glass, and little
twitter of birds broke abruptly from invisi-
bic places
Until the light bad broadencd, Mrs. Mead
refused to heed it; and Jenny, with her back
to the window, and telling the long story OF
her love and marriage and sorrow to her
companion, did not SEQ it. Then the girl,
pausing with feveriSh eyes, after words of
bitter wonder that Cuthbert should have left
her, and wild cry that he might not DO
dead, Mrs. Mead held up her finger.
'MistreSs," said she, "beforo it is too lntn,
think well OF what you are about to do.
Hushl If ye were my own child I should
not say more to thee"
II lsave thought! have thought!' moaned
Jenny, rocking herself to and fro. my
cousin Bridget will give me a homo; and she
and her husband only shall know my story.
But what will the talk be here, whether I
stay or go2 Never could l stir abroad md
at home my father could not bear to LOOK at
me- Should God send my husband back,
then father will hang his head to think Of
the wrong he has done his girl. And thou
shalt tell mother where l am. But, until
Cuthbert comes. l will keep hidden. hayo
sworn it to myself; and if should be forced
to stay here I would kill myself-indeed
would"
"Well, truly" muttered the old woman.
ITO see your beauty, like kittens, and such
soft smiles as ye greet with, who'd think ye
had so much spirit' don't say ye aren't
right You're taching some folks u lesson
asll profit em; and when you're righted, the
people here'll make queen of ye-sep, now!
Doth not the Lord say, 1T is not meet to take
the children's bread, and to cast 1t to dogs?
Yet his own child's bread hath your father
taken, and nivcr are dogs wanting VIXEN
there is 6. crust to gnaw. Turn your head
now, my pretty. Do yc see its day."
With sharp glance at the window, Jenny
jumped from her chair
II must go quickly" she cried "Thcrc
will be people abroad, and if l nm seen they
will run to father"
"Thcre'll be no one abroad for another hour
yet-not even the market folk, replied Mrs.
Mead. "But III not keep ye scared
Sho fetched her shawl and bonnet from the
bedroom, and while she put them on shc
suid:
"Thcre's Sallic Walker, as knpes the Grey
hound ut Winston nursol her mother, and