Watertown republican. [volume] (Watertown, Wis.) 1860-1906, 1888-12-19

extra dinner on Christmas, and half the
| time L m SO bad off [ can't even find
anybody to ask to come in and eat with
| me. Now if / only had that bay window
| it'd De a sight of comply for me Christ
mas and all other times. I'd set to it all
the time was to home"
| There was something very pathetic in
| the half testing and half sincere tone in
which Miss 'Rindy sometimes said:
"I'd like to know what old maids are
born for anyhow. They're only fit for
| folks to poke Jun at, and the best Of
| folks will do it sometimes. Here L am,
| lone and lorne at Christmas and ali
| holiday times, and not even bay win
| dow to set in.'
| More pathetic were the low-spoken
words she said one day while looking
at the reflection Of herself in the little
oval mirror that hung over the old
| fashioned bureau in her bedroom.
| "You amt SO very homely, 'Rindy
| Pick rell," she said, and her eyes were
suspiciously moist as she said it. "Y gu re
awful dark com plected, but your cheeks
amt sunk in any, and all your teeth are
! sound and good. You've hardly gray
| hair, you don't have to wear spectacles,
and you amt as wrinkled rs some are
at your age. Older and uglier wimmen
than you have got married and you
| might"
Miss 'Rindy sank back in her chair
| with both hands held over her crimson
face. Sternly she rebuked herself:
"Shame on you, 'Rindy Pick'rell,"
she said in pitiless self-condemnation.
''Shame on you to think and say such
| to have 'em yet. For shame, for
shame ~
| She was crying softly now with her
| gingham apron to her streaming eyes.
Are you getting immodest, indecent
in your old age, 'Rindy Pick rell?" she
asked harshly. 'Do you forglt that the
Pick'rells were all ladies? And shall
you be the first to disgrace 'em by
fingin' yourself at the men like this
You that amt never even had beau
at least not for years and years; not
since that silly of Hiram Murray
beaued you home ~
Miss 'Rindy was crying in dead earn
est now. The one poor little romance
Of her life had peen so wildly recalled
by the name she bad spoken.
In the days of her early girlhood a
certain Hiram MURRAY had "beaued her
home from meetin' ON three distinct
occasions. He had sent her a valentine
| of paper lace with a red and green
heart on it, golden spear running
| through both, and pair of turtle-doves
| perched in one corner, and inside he
had committed himself by writing:
"If you love me as love you.
| No knife can cut our love in two"
And inside the cover he had made this
passionate and unequivocal declaration:
| 81 know girl and she is sweet,
| And Pick're is her name,
| / love her from her head TO feet,
I'd share with her my wealth and fame
| Miss 'Rindy had this treasure laid care
fully away along with huge candy
heart, the love offering of the same
Hiram, with the words Be Mine" on
it in gilt letters.
| And now they were but tokens of the
duplicity and utter deceit of mankind,
for Hiram had for twenty years been the
| husband of another, and nine children
called him pap"
"And he's poor as mud" said Miss
'Rindy, suddenly drying her eyes and
sitting erect, land I'd ruther have that
bay window than Hiram Murray with
| the nine children throwed in"
| 1t lacked but month of Christmas
| Day and the people of the village were
merry over their little secrets and sur
prises to come. Their happiness made
Miss 'Rindy heavy at heart as she went
from place to place plying her needle.
"What do you want Santa Claus to
bring your" asked one of Miss 'Rindy's
! friends.
ga bay window" was the prompt
and decisive reply 'I'd ruther have a
bay window in my sittin' room than a
di'mond necklace with ev'ry di'mond
as big as hick'ry nut. But don't ex-
pect either. If wishes were horses
| then beggars might ride" she added
with tlnge OF bitterness for which she
| keenly reproached herself moment
| later.
Three weeks before Christmas
strange thing happened at the little
| house belonging to Miss Pickerell She
| More than that. she had pencil and a
bit of paper in her hand and had drawn
| diagram of that very window, when
| the door opened suddenly and in came
Mr. John Hall, the village carpenter.
| a most worthy man, held IN the highest
| esteem because of his honesty. indus
| try, sobriety and the fact that he owned
! one of the neatest and best houses in
| the town, and was thrifty and good
| citizen generally.
"How do you do, Miss Pickerell," he
| said cheerily.
''pm very we'll, thank you." replied
pencil in some confusion.
'iGlad to hear it, said Mr.. Hall
| heartily. "No, thank you; won't lay
| off my overcoat. | just run in on little
| matter of business. It's about that
| bay window I hear you want put i'm
| Miss Kindly, in a greater confusion
than ever, made haste to say
ooh, Mr.. Hall; somebody must have
made mistake. Pm not going to put
| in bay window. ] would if l could );
| but haven't the means to do it with
and / don't think ever shall have
That's all right" said Mr.. Hall
| heartily, producing a tape line and
rule. "But il youH Kindly allow me to
I'll just take the measure for that win
dow all the same" and before Miss
'Rindy could recover from her be-
wildering surprise, he added in more
sober tone:
Miss 'Rindy, when my poor wife lay
sick so long two years ago you was one
OF the best and kindest friends she had.