Fisherman & farmer. [volume] (Edenton, N.C.) 1887-19??, 1888-11-23
A QUICK RECOVERY,
BY HELEN FORREST GRAVES.


81 always foresaw how it would turn
out, said Mrs. Mynton. "You can beal
witness, girls, that 1 prophesied this
from the beginning. She isn't strong
enough to work in store. She's nc
sort of use about the house; and here
she's sick on our hands, and no telling
how long it is going to last, with every
prospect Of doctors bill, and an
account at the drug store, and 3Iynton's
salary Just cut down on account of the
dull season coming on and business being
slack, and
Hush, mamma =" said Angelina Myn-
ton, lifting her finger with a gesture
which denoted caution. "She hears
you"
1t was true. The black mist was
floating away from Phebe Clissold's
obscured vision-the words, which at
first sounded like the distant buzzing
from beehive, now assumed form and
distinctness.
81 am very sorry, Aunt Mynton," said
she. ~ will try not to be burden on
you. Indeed" with faint smile flicker
ing around her white lips, 81 did not
faint away on purpose; but the store was
so hot, and the ventilation so poor-if l
could have few drops of water to
drink"
Phebe Clissold had been left an
orphan at the age of nineteen. Her
nearest relative-a brother of her de-
ceased mother-was bank-clerk in New
York, and to him she had naturally
directed her footsteps. He had sue
ceeded in obtaining for her situation
in great fancy store; aud in this, the
first quarter, she had ANONYMOUSLY
broken down.
close confinement" said Doctor Falk-
ney. "She must have plenty OF exercise
and fresh all. This store business won't
work"
''Exercise!" bitterly repeated Mrs.
Mynton, in whose heart years of priva
ton and toll had we'll nigh soured the
milk of human kindness. 'But we don't
keep carriage and pair, DR.. Falkney,
neither do we have time to walk in the
park. Fresh air! We live in a flat, and
the bedrooms are lighted by gas and ven
tilated through the shaft, and things
can't be helped so far as 1 see"
DR.. Falkney shook his head
SLOW poison" said he, ''for girl of
her temperament"
Phebe, lying on the lounge in the ad-
joining room, and slowly knitting on a
pair OF socks for the last Mynton baby,
heard all this. She put two and two
together in her mind.
They don't want me here" thought
she, sadly. 81 am useless boarder, and
DR.. Falkney says am not to go back
to the store. The question is-what am
I to do2 Exercise! Fresh air! Aunt
MyDtOn is right; there seems to be no
prospect of my attaining any such lux
uries"
AS she lay there, she watched Angelina
Mynton trying to trim her last seasons
hat with three yards of crushed straw
berry coored ribbon, and bunch of yell
low primroses. Evidently, Angelina was
no milliner. She twitched the ribbon
this way and that; she pinned the prim-
roses, first on one side then another and
finally ended by tiinging down the bon
net with an exclamation of despair.
''Hateful old thing" she cried, 81
can't do anything with it,
Phebe laid down her knitting needles.
"Give 1t to me!'' said she.
A few dextrous folds and turnings of
the ribbons, dainty adjustment of the
much abused primroses, and Phebe held
up the bonnet to Aneelina's admiring
glance.
How do you like it now!" said She
Angelina clasped her needle pricked
fingers in admiration.
"Oh, it's lovely" cried She cit isn't
like the same hat. How did you do it,
Phebe:"
& don't know" said Phebe. 'T al [.
ways used to trim my own hats and nv
mothers. 81 like to do it."
tYou ought to be milliner," said /
Angelina. Only" with sudden recol- /
lection, ''Doctor alkney says you can't .
be shut up in store, and milliners .
trade is about as combining as any there /
is.'
eyes," assented Phebe, with sigh. !
Doctor Falkney was quiet, brief .