St. Johnsbury Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1867-1919, 1888-07-26
MISCELLANY.
SOPHRONIA.


1t was a small story-and-a-half cot
tage, painted white, with green blinds
the white paint had lost it's pristin,
purity and the green of the blinds wal
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 attention
The sewing agent noted these
things without knowing it, as he jump
ed from his buggy and walked toward
the front door. He was of an unbeau-
tifnl Yankee type, blue-eyed, sandy
haired and shambled somewhat in his
gait, yet you might look long in his
lean face with its twinkling eyes and
frequent smiles before you could detect
an untrustworthy lineament.
There was no bell, so he raped. Nc
answer. He raped again. This time
footstep might be heard within and
presently the door was held slightly
ajar and then flung wide open, as if to
welcome a long expected guest. The
sewing machine agent was used to all
kinds of reception and did not lose a
second in commencing his well-learned
| lesson.
81 am representing the firm of Gus
sett 81 Hemm, sewing machine manu-
facturers, madam, and would like to
show you one of the machines, unless
you have one already. Have you a
sewing machine 2"
No answer.
owe sell them for cash or install
ments and warrant them satisfactory
| would like to show you Gnssett q
Hemm-could bring the machine right
in and show you how it works. Did
you say you had a machine 7"
| No answer.
COR if you have machine and it
isn't quite satisfactory, we would take
it in part payment for the new one. y
He looked at the figure before nina
little woman dressed in black, her
once sunny hair streaked with gray
and hidden under a widows cap, her
eyes too hidden behind blue spectacles,
her face pale and worn. She might
have been 35 or 40 years old, the
agents own age, but time had laid a
heavier hand on the woman than on
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" He rambled on in his usual
fashion, extolling his wares, and final
ly wound up with, "Pll just fetch in
the machine and see how you like it,
At this the woman found her tongue.
"No, DON'T" she said breathlessly.
"Did you say you had machine,
madam 2" asked the agent.
eyes," she said; and then added
hesitatingly, "But it is out of order.
Perhaps you could fix it for me-" and
held the door open wider as mute in
vitation for him to enter. He availed
himself of it at once, walking straight
into the small frOntrOOm, bare, desti-
tute of ornament, it's most costly fur
nishing being the sewing-machine, at
which he seated himself without loss
of a moment. 1t sung and buzzed I'M
der the stress of his rapid foot and
hand.
"Needs oiling," he said--whirr-
whirr-'A new belt would be mighty
good thing on this ERE; I'll take this
up little''-whirr- whirr-"NOw Phi
tell you, ma'am, you better let me
fetch YOU a Gussett 81 Hemm, you'll
like it great deal better than this
one and you can have plenty of time to
pay for it in"
"No, nor said the idow, hastily.
81 couldn't pay for another one.
was two years doing SLOPPY work enough
to pay for this, and had to support
my child besides"
"Sho! you don't say So" said the
agent with sympathy. "Paid high
price, didn't yea Well, Tll tell you
candidly there don't seem to be nothin'
the matter with this, except it amt the
newest fashion. Here's my card
Azariah Adams, with Gussett 81 Hemm
-Pd like to leave it, and if you want
any sewing machine supplies, needles
or winders or anything of that sort, pll
take your order now and bring it when
| come round to deliver machines in
two weeks"
"Bring me some needless" said the
widow eagerly.
The agent took out his Notebook
"What name, madam 7"
"Mrs. Twitchell," said the widow,
and seemed to look searchingly through
her glasses at the agent. He scrubbed
a minute, thanked her, went out and
scrambled into his buggy with a word
to his horse, then drove away, whistl-
ing cheerily. Mrs. Twitchell dropped
into a seat, buried her face in her
hands and cried softly, but increasingly,
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 always known 4; nor could the
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 Azariah Adams came again,
the summer had fairly commenced,
and Mrs. Twitchell set doors and win
dows wide open that the sweet per-
fumed air might fill the whole small
cottage. Beside, she placed bouquet
of the common wild flowers in a glass
tumbler on the sewing machine. She
herself retained her former aspect, ex-
cept that her black dress was laid
aside and a gray dress and white apron
lent her Quaker-like semblance.
Mr.. Adams gave greeting as to an
old and valued customer, with respect
and fervor, produced the needles, re-
ceived 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 soon 2"