Western Kansas world. [volume] (WaKeeney, Kan.) 1885-current, 1888-04-21
Help One ANOTHER.
BIZ KATE o. CLARK.

Il call it extravaganza" said Mrs. Mop
ley, with some heat. Mrs. Darrow 10 we'll
able to bake her own cake and do her own
mending, yet she hires Mrs. Tate BY the
day to mend stockings and do such light
work for her, and pays her seventy-five
cents apiece. or fifty cents. or even dol
laa, as the case may be, for cakes. call
it sheer extravaeance, for Mrs. Darrow's
none too we'll OFF"
Mrs Darrow works hard, though, /. put
in little Miss Vest, mildly.
busy" admitted Mrs. Mopley. But she
seems to be embroidering q great deal"
! Il have heard that she sells her work in
the city, and gets large price for it."
"H-m," said Mrs. Mopley, doubtfully.
"the market for fancy work is ,dreadfully
overcrowded, understand. should hard
| ~ think anybody so far away as Red Wing
would stand much of chance of selling
| things"
But I understand that Mrs. Darrow is
what they call an expert"
AT any rate, I would manage in some
way to do my own baking and mending. !
call it shiftless not to-"
Mrs. Mopley spoke severely, and as the
richest woman in Red Wing, a small town
situated not SO far West as its name might
indicate, she felt that her influence should
be given strongly against shiftlessness.
"But, went on Miss Vest, who was max
ing morning call, for business purposes,
on Mrs. Mopley, 81 must not forget that /
want You to head the subscription for the
home missionaries"
II will do SO gladly" said Mrs. Moplsy,
who was proud Of her charitable" DISPOSE
lion. @Let me see. How much did I give
last year? think it was ten dollars"
So Mrs. Mopley put down ten dollars,
and little Miss Vest moved on.
1t was perhaps an hour later that
shabby, but respectable-looking, woman
rang Mrs. Mopley's bell, and was shown
into her parlor by the one house servant
that Mrs. Mopley kept. It was the height
of luxury in Red Wing to keep one house,
servant and q coachman-Mrs. Mopley's
establishment"
Good morning, Mrs. Tate," said Mrs.
Mopley, rather reservedly, as she entered
the parlor. II hope your husband is bet
ter.
Mrs. Tate and Mrs. Mopley had been to
school together, but that was a long time
ago, too long for the friendly old re-
lations to last really, and they had not seen
each other often of late years.
"No, he is not" began Mrs. Tate, her
voice trembling little. eve had saved
up little something, besides paying for
our house. but his long illness has used
up everything we had. I have sewed
good deal. Mrs. Darrow very kindly en-
ploys me for one day each week, and I
could do even more than that if there was
anybody else to employ me. Then, you
know, have paid good deal of attention
to cooking, and if you want anything aone
in that line, wish you would let me try to
do it."
Mrs. Tate's voice had grown firm be-
fore she finished. She had thought the
matter over so much that she had hoped
to get through without an instant's waver-
ing.
"I'm not one of the extravaganza kind,
somewhat coldly. "But cannot see an old
friend suffer"
She drew her purse from her pocket.
Mrs. Tate rose with dignity.
II do not ask for charity" she said. II
merely wish for work."
"But cannot afford to put out my work,
insisted Mrs. Mopley.
Very well, them" said Mrs. Tate. II
do not wish for anything but work.
"I-I wish you would take this five
dollar bill, really" stammered Mrs. Mop
ley.
II need it badly enough, Heaven knows"
exclaimed Mrs. Tate, with burst of tears.
which she could not help. "But 1 cannot
take it without returning something for it.
Why would it cost you any more, If should
give you five dollars worth of work for it
than if gave nothing at all? Is it not
true charity to give the poor work than to
give them money, and 50 take away their |
self -respect2"
Mrs. Mopley stood irresoluie, holding the |
ve-dollar bill in her hand.
"I-I don't know but you are right, Es-
ther," she said, her friends heart-broken
eloquence leveling for the time the bar |
to do something for you for good while. |
I thought would send you basket of |
things"
"But am we'll and strong" interrupted |
Mrs. Tate. "My children are old enough |
to take care of themselves, and to 20 to |
school alone. All that want is work. I |
am fair seamstress and good cook. |
There are my baked beans, my fshballs,
my crullers. and different sorts of cake |
and pies. think I could suit you with |
any of them"
"You may send me up some fishballs
and baked beans every Saturday afternoon,
Esther, F" replied Mrs. Mopley, hastily, and
as though she was afraid her resolution
would give out before she finished speak
ing; and have promised to contribute
two cakes to the sociable tomorrow even
ing. Make me two of your incest, please;
and have silk dress am just ripping
and sponging for q comfortable. You
might do that if you like; I'll send it down
% your house. But can't help feeling as
hough this were rather foolish for me,
hat am SO well able to do it all myself"
II don't want to urge you to extrava-
,ance, said Mrs. Tate, rising, and looking
larassed and nervous.
mo, no." exclaimed Mrs. Mopley, seiz-
ng her hands impulsively. II am sure
'ou are right. I believe have had some
'ain and silly notions about charity and
lelping others. I am always complaining
hat I have NO time to read. nor to practice
ny music, nor to entertain my friends. I
ave done too much of this work which
ehers might do, and which would help
hem-and then had given money and
bought I was doing all ought But you
ave said just the right thing to me. shall