The Lambertville record. [volume] (Lambertville, N.J.) 1872-1968, 1888-05-09
SOPHRONIA.

1t was a small story~and half cottage,
painted white, with green blinds; the white
paint had lost its pristine purity and the
green of the blinds was faded and dusty. A
hinge of the gate was broken and the gate
swung and creaked hideously; the little
patch of grass in front sorely needed atten-
ton. The sewing machine agent noted these
things without knowing it, as he jumped
from his buggy and walked toward the front
door. He was of an unbeautiful Yankee
type, blue eyed, sandy hqired and shambled
somewhat in his gait, yet you might look
long in his lean face with its twinkling eyes
and frequent smile before you could detect
an untrustworthy lineament.
There was no bell, so he raped No an
swer. He raped again. This time foot
step might be heard within, and presently
the door was held slightly ajar and then
flung wide open, as il to welcome long ex-
pected guest. The sewing machine agent
was used to all kinds of reception, and did not
lose second in commencing his well learned
lesson.
81 am representing the firm Of Gusset &
Hemm, sewing machine manufacturers
madam, and would like to show you one of
the machines unless you have one already.
Have You a sewing machinen
No answer.
1--WE sell them for cash or installments
and warrant them satisfactory would like
TO show you Gussett & Henni, could bring
the machine right in and show you how it
works. Did You say you had machineg'
No answer.
"Or, II you have a machine and it isn't
quite satisfactory, we would take it in part
payment for the new one" He looked at the
figure before him, little woman dressed in
black, her once sunny hair streaked with
gray and hidden under a widows cap, her
face pale and worn She might have been
30 or 40 years old, the agents own age, but
time had laid heavier hand on the woman
than the man. He noted that she trembled
and looked fixedly at him, and thought, in his
Yankee vernacular, Nervous critter, afraid
of tramps and peddlers, likely.n He rambled
on in his usual fashion, extolling his wares,
and finally wound up with, "Tll just fetch in
the machine and see how you like itn
At this the woman found her tongue.
mo, don't, y she said, breathlessly.
"Did you say you had machine madame
asked the agent.
Yes she said; and then added. hesitat-
ingly, "but it is out of order Perhaps you
could fix 1t for me,n and held tho door omen
He awaited himself of it at once. walking
straight into the small front room, bare, dess
titute or ornament, its most costly furnish
ing being the sewing machine, at which be
seated himself without loss of a moment. 1t
sung and buzzed under tho stress of his rapid
foot and hand.
Needs oiling,h he whirr-
"A new belt would be mighty good thing
on this ere; I'll take this up littler-whiir
--whirr--"Now I'll tell you, ma'am you bet
ter let me fetch you Gussett &c Hemm,
you'll like it great deal better than this
one, and you can have plenty of time to pay
for it in"---
mo, nor said the widow, hastily. II
couldn't pay for another one. l was two
years doing slop work enough to pay for
this, and l had to support my child, besides y
"Sho! you don't say so, said the agent
with sympathy. "Paid a high price, didn't
yei Well, I'll tell you candidly there don't
seem to be Eoth.n' the matter with this. ex-
cept it amt the newest fashion. Here's my
card--Azariah Adams, with Gussett & Hemin
I'D like to leave it, and if you want any
sewing machine supplies, needles or winders
or anything of that sort, I'll take your order
now and bring It when | come around to de-
liver machines in two weeks.
Bring me some needles, said the widow
eagerly.
The agent took out his note book. 'What
name, .madamF'
Mrs. Twitchell," said tho widow, and
seemed to look searchingly through her
glasses ut the agent. He scrubbed minute,
thanked her, went out and scrambled into
his buggy with word to his horse, and
drove away, whistling eheerily. Mrs.
Twitchell dropped into u seat, buried her
face in her hands and cried softly, but UNI
ceasingly, until her little daughter came
home from play The child saw no signs of
tears, however. To her she was the same
gentle, careworn, silent mother she had al
ways known; nor could tho little one dream
that old memories were rising and rushing
within her mothers heart like the spring
floods, almost overwhelming her with their
force
When Aznrah Adams came again the sum-
mer had fairly commenced, and Mrs.
TwitchelI set doors and windows wide open
that the sweet perfumed air might I'LL the
whole small cottage. Besides, she placed a
bouquet Of the common wild flowers in a
glass tumbler on the sewing machine. She
herself retained her former aspect, except
that her black dress was laid aside and a
gray dress and white apron lent her a
Quaker like semblance.
Mr.. Adams gave greeting as to an old and
valued customer, with respect and fervor,
produced the needles, received, the few cents
which were due and took up his hat to go.
But the widow, in her usual hesitating way,
detained him.
''shall you be this way again soong" she
asked.
ayes, l shall,n said Azariah, promptly.
give sold more machines tllis time, and I've
got to come and deliver them inside of fort
night. Changed your mind about new ma
cbinep
"No,n said the widow. II only thought |
would have new hemmerif you could bring
one.n
With his usual imperturbable cheerfulness,
Azariah noted down the new order and pre-
pared to depart, when through the open door
flashed a vision of beauty, q tiny 0-year-old
girl, gold haired, azure eyed, music voiced.
She stopped short at sight of tho stranger,
then fed to her mothers side.
81 swannyi" said the sewing machins
agent, under his breath.
This is my little girl,' volunteered Mrs
Twitchell, smoothing the sunny head
Azariah sat down in the nearest chair.
nYou could knock me down with feather
said he, presently THAT child Is the living
image of one knew thirty odd years sgo
| What's your name, sissy~
fannie s. Twitchell,n solemnly answered
the little one, with a steady look out Of bel
deep eyes,
This little girl used to know was named
Sophrony-- Miller. You haint nc
relations named Miller, have yonr he asked
Mrs. Twitchell
"Yes, but they're far removed" she re
piled, with unconscious bitterness. Far re
moved, indeed, was the beautiful child 80
phronia from the middle aged, worn Widow
| Twitchell.
Azariah seemed to have forgotten his usua
energetic haste With softenei voice and
ingenious coaxing he enticed the yttle one X
his side, then to- his knee. Mrs Twitchel
took up her sewing and listened to the tall
going on between the two.