Frostburg mining journal. [volume] (Frostburg, Md.) 1871-1913, 1888-02-18
CONTRIBUTING TO THE EBOE
INDIAN FUND.

scrlpuOn! Salu Mrs. BlSGard, fOldlng hel
mittened hands simultaneously upon hel
lap. Remember, Mary Hay, he who
gveth to the poor lendetl to the Lord
"Yes, l know, Mrs. Biggard," said Mary
Hay, with the color coming and going on
her cheek, while a sense of the ridiculous
strove within her against n meek, con-
seriousness of the solemnity of the words
just quoted; but the farm hasn't done a.
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
myself in the luxury of subscribing to the
Fund for Evangelizing the Eboe Indians
Mrs. Biggard clasped the little red mo-
rocco subscription book with q clicking
sound.
Hump" said she, "why don't you say
at once that you had rather spend your
money in navy blue silk gowns and fasAy
bonnets?"
Mary redeemed to the roots of her hair.
Perhaps you are not aware, Mrs. Big
CORD" sad she, that the navy blue dress
was mothers old one dyed over at home.
and that the bonnet was a present from my
aunt in Springfield"
'All very we'll TO talk" sputtered Mrs.
Biggard, shaking out her multitudinous
tlounces. But | know that Mr.. Mildmay
will be powerfully disappointed He wants
dies of his fock."
Once more the roseate color suffused
Mary's cheeks.
MY duty is my duty" she said, "and
cannot swerve from it to please any one, not
even Mr.. Midway"
And the amiable Mrs. Biggard went
straight to the rectory and told Mr.. Mild
may shat Mary Hay said she warnt O. goin'
to subscribe to the fund 10 please Mr.. Mild
may nor any one else
The rector listened in silence. but he
was conscious of pang of inward annoy
ance.
He bod scarcely expected SO curt a mes
sage from Mary Hay, in whose dove-like
blue eyes he had SO often read the light
Of sympathy, whose doNncast head re-
minded him of the beautiful mater Dolo-
fosa."
so different from my Ruey, now, amt
she?" said Mrs. Biggard. Why. Ruey
she's fairly walked through the soes of
pair o boots a solicitn' subscriptions for
the fund. There never was nobody so de-
vout as she is. And she wants to know
my Ruey does-whether she and Almiry
shant come over to the rectory an put up
the parlor curtains for you this after
noon?"
Thank you!" said Mr.. Mildmay, with
something of an embarrassed air; but |
dare say that Bridget will do very well. |
wouldn't trouble Miss Zeruiah, and"
"0h, ii won't be no trouble at ALL" said
Mrs. Biggard.
And Off she went to give the needed d.
rections to Lcruiah and Almira, her two
lean, middle-aged daughters.
81 do feel such a motherly sympathy
for n bacheldore clergyman" said she.
There amt no more helpless creatur on
the face of the EARTH"
Mary Hay, busy at her work in
brains TO think of some possible or impos-
sible plan to get little money to help kind
Mr.. Mildmay's plan along.
Il wish l could spare something" she
said, "if 1t was only dollar"
Il wish you could, my DEAR" said gentle
Mrs. Hay, who had overheard the eager
words.
Mother" cried Mary, "there are the
ounces - down by the railroad! Why
couldn't sell them at the store? The
trees hang full this year, and the fruit is
beautifully perfect"
II never thought of that" said Mrs.
Hay. ave will go to- morrow and gather
them, Mary-you and l."
Mary went singing about her work that
afternoon. Her heart was light as any
feather. Why, why had she not remem-
bered the ounce tree before? Ounces
were rare and high-priced this season, and
she thought she was certain of at least So
Tor the crop.
But the next day, when she and her
mother-Mrs. Hay carrying the basket and
Mary m rrily trundling the barrow along
before her-went down to the orchard,
whose slopes extended to the glittering
steel rails of the railway, 10. and behold!
the trees were utterly stripped of their gol-
den load.
Mary burst into tears. She sat down on
the edge of the wheelbarrow and hid her
head in her mothers apron like child.
40, mother, who has done this?" she
cried. "Who can have been 50 wicked-so
cruel?"
ats the boys, I'm afraid" said Mrs.
hay. Don't fret. daughter-aon't! It's
done, and it can't be helped"
The boys never served us so before"
said Mary between her sobs. Yes, moth
er, you are right. 1t can't be helped. Let
as go home. There is an end of the sub
scription-money now"
Slowly and sadly the two women toiled
back up the hill with the wheelbarrow and
the basket. Mr.. Hay, just returned from
The harvest-field, heard their story with
amaZement.
ats the first time that ever tree of mine
was robbed" said he. 81 didn't know as
We had such boys in this neighborhood,
but, look here, Polly, don't cry" laying his
broad brown hand soothingly on his
daughters shoulder. Its always darkest
Just before daylight. Here's S. gold
piece thf! Mrs. Blake paid me for the hay
in the up medder. l was going to take it
toward the taxes, but l guess taxes can
wait"
"No, father" said Mary, ":our just debts
are our Just debts. L oughtn't TO touch this
money"
"Squinches, ell, said Luke Larrabee, who
had come in with a stone pitcher for gall
Ion of Mrs. Hays cider vinegar.
"Squinches is mighty scuss this season.
see Mrs. Biggards folks dom up a sight
on EN- when was over there this morn
ing. Mrs. Biggard she's dreadful
churchy, you know. and the palson he'd
said he was partial to preserved squinches;
and there was she and Ruey and Al |
miry tuckering like all possessed to get 'em
done"
"Says I:
"'Why. whar did ye get all them ere
squinches?
Says she:
~ bought 'em of boy at the door,
Says /:
No, ye didn't. Electa Bggard; We got
'em last night outen old Farmer Hays |
SIDE hill squinch orchard, clus to the rail
road, says J. cause l seen You and Ruey |
a-carryin' the clothes basket between ven, !
and it was cram jam full O big yaller /
s1uinches.'