Daily Republican. [volume] ([Wilmington, Del.]) 1874-1890, 1886-10-15
PAYING THEIR DEBTS.
By AN OLD CONTRIBUTOR

darK eyes set beneath forehead
whose breadth and height promised 8
powerful brain. The hands tina
guided the plough were strong hands
but whittier and more delicate than sucl
pursuits usually allow.
Daisy Hale sat pc ched upon tn,
topmost rail of the fence that inclose(
the seven-acre lot Her dress wa,
print, but made with founces on the
skirt, and ruffies on The waist. Hel
short golden hair was curled carefully
in a fringe over her forehead, ant
gathered into longer curls into coml
behind, above which was a very
jaunty hat, covered with puffs O
white muslin and bows of blue ribbon
TO match the spots upon her dress.
The face under Daisy's hat was
gloomy, not TO say cross. A very
pretty face, but not pleasant, having {
pettish, spoiled child frown, and 8
brooding discomfort in the large blue
eyes.
Presently the ploughman drew neal
| the fence, and taking off his hat, famed
himself with it, stopping his horses
while he leaned indolently against the
rails.
"You look 'deliciously cool under
this great tree" he said, land -h'm-
very much dressed tor nine o'clock in
the morning"
SIN ten.cent calico" she said, con.
temptuously. "When are you COM
ing in?"
"At noon, to dinner"
'1t is too absurd" she broke out,
angry tears in her eyes, "for you to be
ploughing and hoeing and milking
cows, and doing the work of laboring
man. thought when you came home
from college you would do something
besides work on farm. !"
"And let the farm 90 to ruin? That
would be pretty way to pay my
debts"
your debts" she said looking as
tonished. "Do you owl debts?"
Certainly You and l are both
heavily in debt, Daisy. I think when
Aunt Mary took US in, poor little Or
phans, l, her nephew, you, her second
cousin"
Third cousin" she interrupted,
"slnce you are so PARTICULAR l know
what you mean, but | am sure that
when Aunt Mary sent you to college
and me to the Breokdale Academy,
she never intended to have us return
to drudge on the horrid old farmW
DO you know that all she saved in
q life of hard work was spent on our
education? Do you know that she
has nothing now but the farm, and
that to take her away from it would
probably shorten her life'"
'She always has taken care of it
herself"
Are you blind that you cannot see
how the four years she has been alone
here have aged her, how feeble she
is? While we were living at ease in
our college and school she has toiled
Tor us until she is wearied out"
"But you could send her money if
you were in the city n some gentle
manly occupation"
Perhaps so, ten or twelve years
from now. To-day l propose to plough
this lot and see how many bushels of
corn can raise on it,"
He took hold of the plough handles
as he spoke, started the horses and left
her, her eyes full of angry tears.
He might as well have said what
he meant" she though springing
down and starting for the house. ale |
thinks | ought 10 cook and wash, and |
make butter and wor k like servant
girl, when have studied so hard and |
tried to make myself q lady, that he
might not be ashamed Of me-"
And yet, in her heart she knew that
he was ashamed of her, and that she
deserved it. Ashamed that she could
sit in her room, selfishly engrossed in
making pretty articles Of dress or read
ing, while her cousin, Or, as she, too,
called her, Aunt Mary, worked in the
kitchen, the dairy and the poultry yard
from days dawn till night.
She was not all selfishness and heart
essness, though there had grown a
.hick crust.of both over her better ma
lure Her ideas of ladies and gentle
men depended largely upon clothing
and pursuit, ard she had not yet quite
realized how much more nearly Johns
standard reached the desired point
han her own.
AS she drew near the house the
ting of Johns words penetrated more
md more her heart, until fresh stab
net her at the door. Looking in at
he open door, she saw a white head
,ewed in weeping, slight figure
haken in sobs.
Quickly through all the selfishness,
elt-reproach struck at the girls heart,
nd in moment she was on her knees
'eside the low chair, her arms around
he weeping woman.
"Oh, Aunt Mary, what is it? Obi
lease don't cry SO! Oh what has hap
ened"
"Why. Daisy, dear through sobs
nat could not be checked at mo-
lent's notice-"don't mind me. Pm
My tired, dearie-only tired"
Could she have struck deeper?
'iredl AT seventy housswork does =
ecome WEAKNESS! AT seventy it
Jay seem as il one ought to rest, while
Dung hands and active feet take up
le burdens. She was very tired, this
atient old woman, who had given her
fe's work for others; first, for her
srents, then for an invalid brother,
silly for two orphan children, with
lch innumerable acts of neighborly
ndness as only the recording angel O
good deeds knew.
Well might she be tiredl 1t was :
wv to her to be carressed, to have =
nder hands lead her I'd her rsom and a
osen her dress, a tender voice coax
sr to lie down.
Now I will darken the window"
aisy said, land you are to rest. Sleep
vOll can until dinpar time -