Peninsula enterprise. [volume] (Accomac, Va.) 1881-1965, 1888-07-14
The Family Scapegraoe.
Ely HELEN FORREST GRAVES

1t was rather an ordinary occurrence Tor
Lita to be late. Somehow her bonnct'
never wero in order, her gloves never
mendcd There was Away, mud
splash to 10 cleaned eff the lower
flounco of her dress. a Ii lie to be darncd
in her shawl, missin scarf to DO &C
cou tel for.
II wish wcro q mani" said Lita.
'sNIcn are never bothered about their
clothes
MIN have to look decent, l sup
pose" said Grandmother Allan, scath-
ingly.
"oh, but it isn't such dreadful trial
to thcm!" sighed Litn, tossing her
gloves around in the vain search Tor
pair that should be mates.
The pair could not L. found, so Lita
went to church With her hands under
her shawl, and skunk guilty. into
back seat, directly under tho organ
gallery, where she could hear the sweet
dronc of the music and sec everybody
else without herself being seen.
81 should like to have had respect
able pair OF l,ng:wristcd gloves, "
THOUGHT Lita, ''anl sit up in front. Be
cause the new minister is to preach, and
should like to get some sort OF an llea
OF him.
1t was sultry summer evening, the
clusters of lamps around the wooden
pillars outfacing tho seven stars III the
July heavens, the heated atmosphere of
tho church contrasting unpleasantly
with occasional whiffs of wild-roso
scented air from tho outside world.
AID late as Lita was. she had the
satisfaction OF knowing that there was
some ono even moro tardy than her
self. A pleasant looking young man,
with clear haz,l eyes, hair waved light
ly ct the ends, and not unbccoming
suspicion OF suuburn on his face, was
presently shown into the pew by tho
cross old sexton, who affected entirely to
ignore its other occupant.
perhaps he don't really SEQ me,
said Lita to herself. 'Hc is growing
one glass OF his spcctaclcs is cracked
clear across"
Aud Lita looked at the cross old SEX
ton with the gently contcmptuous pity
which is natural tribute from bloom
ing, dimplcd eighteen toward white
haired eight-and-sixty.
Now Lita was very pretty, with her
blue, laughing eyes, fringed with long,
thick lashes, like curtains; checks as
red as the sweet Williams in the church.
yard; and bright brown hair, threaded
with changing CLEANS of red gold,
which grew so thick that hair pins
would scarcely keep it up, and it had to
be fastened i'll its place under Lita's hat
by an antique she'll comb, studded with
little balls, which had been worn by
Grandmother Allen when she was a
young girl.
Aud the other person in the pew,
chanciug to look that way thought
what a lovely vision she was
1.-THE ideal village Maiden" he said
to himse.f-''with such sweet, sanity
look in her eyes, too! 1t makes one
think Of Longfcllow's poem:
Her face is like the angels,
And her heart as pure us they
1 wonder who she can bc?"
While Lita, darting an occasional
glance at him from beneath the silky
awning of her long Iashcs, thought;
"Who is he, anyhow Moro likely
one OF the travelling statesmen from tile
Eagle Hotel, or perhaps book agent,
or lightning-rod man.
And then sho left off troubling her
head about him and settled comfort
ably back in tho corner of her pew.
yawning now and then as the bald :
headed, elderly preacher preached on,
getting gradually lost am ong his 'sev-
entities" and ''cighthlics.
But all of sudden Lifts eyes spar
klrd. She whisbcd a pencil cut of her
pocket, and begun slowly to sketch
something on the fy-icaf of her hymn
book. for this wicked little sinner WIS
Just enough of an aiti't to lie able to
iol down some similitude OF whatever
took her capricious fancy.
And as she drew with her book sas,
hidden under the projecting moulding
of the pew rail, her companion stretched
his neck curiously forward to see what
she was about
IN touch of nature makes the Who'll
world kim" says the poet; and Lita
tipped the book SO that the unknown
could catch a glimpse of her mis- chic
YOU; work.
1t was the old preacher himself, his
Roman nose slightly exaggerated, hi
bald head given perhaps an undue pre-
ponderauco, but still the old preach
er, so comically rendered that the uu-
srown could not but smile behind his
heavy brown moustache.
She looked arch.y at him; he podded
almost mperceptibly, and taking the
pencil from her hand, added one or two
touchcs-in themselves insignificant,
but giving marvellous character to Che
sketch before he gave it back.