The Somerset herald. [volume] (Somerset, Pa.) 1870-1936, 1888-06-13
A. DOMESTIC TYRANT.

I - DOHi IS tfS q hAiN
Things is happening quite providen
tial this year. said Mr.. Proul, piously, as
he closed bis bank book, put it into his
table drawer and turned the key on it
Apples have gone up a quarter of dol.
lar barrel, and I've kept my hay long
enough to bring the very best market
/ prices"
Chloe looked earnestly up from the
stockings she was darning, on the other
side Of the tallow candle.
1t seemed 10 her as if circumstances
were suspicious for demand which had
long been in her mind.
Don't you think, Uncle Peter" she
hazarded, that / might have a new
dress ?"
Mr.. Proul put on his glasses and view
ed his niece with stern and solemn
gaze
a new-dress?7 % he repeated. A new
dress2 Didn't you have one in the
spring ?''
Yes, Uncle Peter but that was six
months ago. And it was nothing but a
calico,"
There's the dress bought at Widow
Salisbury's auction and gave you. What's
come of that?" questioned Mr.. Proul,
without varying his glasses one-sixteentb
part Of an inch, until poor Chloe felt as if
she were being scoriched Icy pair of
baleful SUNS
Girls don't wear black bombazine.
Uncle Peter s' timidly pleaded his niece.
"And besides, it was so tender that it
was all dropping to pieces. A calico
now
Hold your tongue, Chloel" grualy
spoke up the old man. Your dress is
good enough. It's a deal better than
anything wear. But you've inherited
every drop of your mothers extrayagant
blood, that's plain 10 see =
Chloe WINGED yisibly. A sluron her
mothers memory was TO her keener
insult than any reproach addressed to
herself
II wouldn't so much mind il. Uncle
Peter" she said, " if We were here by our
selves; but | am ashamed to sit at the
table when Mr. Cresson comes in, my
clothes are so faded and patched
You needn't worry ~ satirically spoke
up Uncle Peter. 1t amt no ways likely
that Mr. Cresson takes mnch notice of
you, or what you have got on. Hes got
something of more importance to think
of.
Once more Chloe crimsoned, but she
made no further response, and went ON
with her work, while her uncle took up
the poker and pulled the hickory logs
forward, so that they should not burn
away too fast
Mr. Cresson was late that evening. He
was the agent at the little railway station
in the woods, and there was always ex-
ira freight on "Wednesday nights TO at
tend to. But when at last he did come
in, he had new magazine and little
roll of story papers for Chloe.
The train boy had something new to-
night said he to Chloe. " l thought
perhaps you would like to have some
reading"
"Oh, thank you" murmured Chloe.
wondering if Mr. Cresson would observe
that the rent in her sleeve was mended
with calico of quite different color, as
she took the parcels.
Uncle Peter scowled under his shaggy
brovs.
'' The Bible and the cookery book is
enough reading Tor women folks, said
he, according TO my ideas"
And he went up stairs, with a candle
in his hand. to rummage the garrett for
some mouldy old coat, which might
serve to exc out his wardrobe until the
spring. As for buying anything new,
tina; was quite out of the question.
The next day when Chloe had finish
ell her ehurEing, got the dishes washed
and the floor scrubbed. and the chicken
stewing in the pot for dinner she looked
around for her magazine and newspa-
pers. They were gone
She nan out into the barn, where MIR.
Proul was putting up new manger
boards.
"tsncle Peter" said she, where is my
magazine-the one Mr. Crcsson brought
me?"
"Your magazine ?' slowly repeated Mr..
Proul. turning his foot rule this way and
that. oh, yes sold it 10 Mary Ann
Burtis this morning for ten cents when
She came for quart O. vinegar. Mary
Ann she sort o took a notion to it. and !
gave her the papers; they're sort o news
papers for fire-lightin' at Burtis- Now you
needn't ssy word, Chloe ] amt goin'
TO have you foolin' away your time over
story books. when there's all them carpet
rags TO be sewed. and the housework 10
do. and me needin' new set o work
shirts. There.'
Chloe obeyed. she did not say word.
sho turned away, and went slowly back
into the house.
.There is no slave in all this world
worse treated than ~ she cried to
herself. 81 win bear 1t no longer. Tor
all that do in this house / receive nei-
ther credit nor wages
When Mr.. Proul came into dinner the
chickens were still stewing away, emit
ting fiayory odors from under the pot lid
but table was not spread, and Chloe
was not there.
Chloe had packed her little bag, and