Connecticut western news., 1886-12-08
MARY'S OUNCES.

''So you won't give us nothin' for the subscription said Mrs. Biggard, fold ing her mittened hands sanctimoniously upon her lap. Remember, Mary Hay, he who giveth to the poor lendeth to the Lord'"
 "Yes, I know, Mrs. Biggard," said Mary Hay, with the color coming and going on her cheek, while sense of the ridiculous strovc within her, against a meek consciousness of the solem- nity of the words just quoted; ''but the farm hasn't done as we'll this year as we expected it to do, and until all the outstanding debts are paid think it would be scarcely just to indulge my self in the luxury of subscribing to the Fund for the Evangelizing of the Eboe Indians.'"
 Mrs. Biggard clasped the little, red morocco subscription book with click ing sound.
 "Humphr' said, she, "Why don't you gay at once that you'd rather spend your money in navy-blue silk gowns and fashy bonnets ?"
 Mary reddened to the roots of her hair.
 'Perhaps you are not aware, Mrs. B;ggard," said she, "that the avy-blue dress was mothers old one, dyed over at home, and that the bonnet was present from my aunt in Springfield"
 "All very we'll to talk" sputtered Mrs. Biggard, shaking out her multitu- dinous tlounccs. "But know that Mir. Mildmay will be powerfully disap- p'inted. He expects somethin' besides empty talk from the ladies of the flock. :"
 Once more the roseate color suffused Mary's cheek.
 My duty is my duty.' said she, land l cannot swerve from it to please any one--not even Mir. Mildmay"
 And the amiab.e Mrs. Biggard went straight to the rectory and told Mr. Mildmay "that Mary Hay said she warn't a. goin' to subscribe to the fund, to please Mir. Mildmay nor any one else."
 The rector listened in silence, but he was conscious of a pang of inward annoy ance.
 He had scarcely expected so curt a message from Mary Hay, in whose dove like blue eyes he had so often read> the light of sympathy, whose down -cast head reminded him of the beautiful '.Mater Dolorosa."
 "So different from my Ruey, now, ain't she2' said Mrs. Biggard. "Why Ruey she's fairly walked through the soles of a pair O boots a-solicitin' sub. scriptions for the fund. There nevel was nobody so devolt as she is. And she wants to know-my Ruey does whether she and Almiry shan't come over to the rectory an put up the parlo, curtains for you this afternoon"
 "Thank you!" said MT. Mldmay, with something of an embarrassed air; 'bu1 dare say that Bridget will do very we'll. would't trouble Miss Zeruiah, and"
 "Oh, it won't be no trouble at all r said Mrs. Biggard.
 And off she trudged to give the need full directions to Zeruiah and Alm:ra, hel two lean, middle-aged daughters. '1 do feel such a motherly sympathy for a bacheldore clergyman p said sht "There ain't no more helpless creetur or the face of the earth" While Mary Hay, busy ct her work 1T the farm-house kitchen, was puzz ing hel brains to think up some possible or i'm possible plan to get little moneyto helI kind MT. Mildmays plan along.
 ''I wish I could spare something," sh, said, Eff it was only a dollar!''
 q wish you could, my dear" sait gentle Mrs. Hay, who had overheard tn, eager words.
 "Mother," cried Mary, 'there are tn, quinces quinces down by the rail road Why couldn't sell them at thu stort9 The trees hang full this year and the fruit is beautifully perfect!'
 q never thought of that" said Mrs Hay. "We'll go tomorrow and gathe them, Mary-you and l."
 Mary went singing about her worl that afternoon. Her heart was light a any feather. Why, why had she not re membered the quince-t tree before Quinces were rare and high-priced thi season, and she thought she was certai of at least five dollar. for the crop.
 But the next day, when she and he mother Mrs. Hay carrying the baske and Mary merrily trundling the barro, along before her went down to tn ssv.har7 whnscs alo,aaa axtenf3 af1 sfoa fh