The Worthington advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1874-1908, 1886-06-17
POWER OFPATIENCE.

POWER OF PATIENCE.
twas the last straw, that was.
But no woman would know VIVA
that means without explanation, though
thousands have been in my place.
You see, when Tom and were mar
ried, it was no trouble for me to kee1
house. Everything seemed to sta,
clean and stay in its place, aud grow
prettier and swceter and more home
like every day. How my flowers die
bloom, my birds sing, my plants thrive
The life in my little aquarium was evel
study and delight; our little meals
were so cosy, eaten beside the oper
window, or from server on our laps
as we sat in the grape arbor or unde,
the elm, or on one of the little porches
amongt the vines! Our evenings, with
one of us reading aloud, were filled
with delight, and eur days were like
days in story book, with the charmed
influence of fairy over all.
When the twins were born, the sweet
burden was so new aud so heavy that
we were compelled to have help. A
straight, black-eyed girl she was, who
spelled her homely name ''Nancie. -
So clearly, that her keen eye watched
every movement of ours, lest we disar-
range something. If we spilled water,
she screamed in fear it might have been
grease; if we drank from the dipper,
she washed and dried it, lest it rust; if
we opened the window for fresh air,
she closed it for fear the dust would
come in. Among her whims and signs
and superstitions were some of the
drollest, oldest things that any mortal
could imagine.
We shuddercd over the cooking;
everything was fried, and fried in lard;
everything was ''short' and greasy and
strong and unwholesomc. 'Nancie'
was girl Of few words, though she
was always in q humble with herself.
In answer to our, 'Werc you speak
ing to me?'' she invariably said, ''Oh,
l was only tockin' to my own self. -
We got along with our help peaceably
until we found her one day dipping
fine sand out of the aquarium to scour
the bottoms of the cooking pots and
the bake-pans. We were Mortified.
That beautiful sand we brought from
the shores of Lake Champlain, and
from the banks of the beautiful little
lakes on the peninsular shores of
Michigan.
We said, "How did you come to use
that particular sand?' And the
smoothly drawn out reply was:
"'Cause it looks so clean-like, and as if
it would take a good holt. Oh, I've
used it freckwently, and there is
nothin' better for scrapin' out burnt
kittle than some of them nice shells in
that tish-box.''
My beautiful shells that l had gath
cred at the old ancestral home, every
one of them so sacred that l just loved
to handle them and look upon them
and think over the stories they told me
of other days and other homes.
And so in a gentle way we relieved
Miss Nancy Legg, and we hired our
washing done, and we divided the ba-
bies between us, and for a while we
played keep house, and were happy,
and under The dominant hand of no 10
norant task mistress.
But when the next baby came, we
were again brought under the rule of
a new mistress, and this one was a
sulky girl, who charged extra for every
hour past seven in the evening. She
wanted to be called Miss Evangeline;
to have company two evenings of the
week; to 60 visiting Aunt Becca Satur-
day afternoons and to have another
room besides the best one up stairs.
Her trunk was twice as big as mine
and held all her possessions, even down
to the pink and white shepherdess with
her crook over her bare shoulder.
Private wurship' was one of her
points. She sang hymns through her
double-barrel nose that would
have shamed the poor old godly pioneer
preachers of seventy years ago, the
dear old men called of the Spirit from
the pillow and the anvil to preach the
everlasting gospel. She wheezed like
old machinery when she sang.
Very often she would "wurship' be-
side the open window, and her voice
would 90 out like tally-ho shout over
the bottom fields away to the butter-nut
woods and the swamps beyond, where
the darkness was starred by the glin-
ting wings of the myriads of fire flies.
The coon hunters have often heard her
petitions, and the owls an
swered back from the hollow syca-
mores. The exacting rule of her life
was all bound round by nosey ''prairs, -
singing of hymns, exhortations, and
"go meetin'.'' Only for her sullen
spells, ''Miss Evangeline'' would have
filed the requirements, and we would
have kept her. She smoked a pipe as
had her grandmother before her. but
this she did for ''wind on the stomach
and a pain in the chest.''
l am afraid l was not very patient. l
could not endure contrary winds very
well, so We managed to get on awhile,
but felt scowl trying to find a place
in my visage all the time. Isaid:
tom, dear, 1 want to grow old
gracefully. and l cannot do i: with this
like cloud, over me all
the time.''
SO we were glad when Evangeline's
grandmother had a ''crack in her back
and the girl was needed at home,
The next girl was an uniformed,
growing creature, with restless blue
eyes and pretty, plump cheeks, who
walked with a stumpy, humping tread,
and her fault-what a funny, foolish
fault it was, and one that we never
had dreamed of-was that of chewing
gum all the time. Morning, noon and
night her fat jaws were going, like
slow machinery, continually. She
would stand. before ME, look at me.
listen to me, answer me stolidly. ask
questions. receive directions, and all
the while the vexatious chewing went