The Monitor. [volume] (Woodstown, N.J.) 1884-1892, 1889-02-01
MRS. MOPLEY,s EXTRAvAGANCE.

ley, with some heat. "Mrs. barrow is
well able to bake her own cake and do her
" 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 a
dollar, as the case may be, for cakes. l
call it sheer extravaganza, for Mr.. OAR
rows none too well of"
Mrs. barrow works hard, though . put
in little Miss Vest, mildly.
"Ye-es, l know, she always seems to be
busy" admitted Mrs. Mopley. 'But she
seems to be embroidering a great deal.o
81 have heard that she sells her work in
the city, and gets a good price for it."
"H-m," said Mrs. MopIey, doubtfully,
''the market for fancy work is ~dreadfuily
overcrowded, l understand. l should
hardly think anybody SO far away as Red
Wing would stand much of a chance of
selling things"
"But I understand that Mrs. barrow is
what they call an expert"
cat any rate, l would manage in some
way to do my own baking and mending.
l call it shiftless not to-"
Mrs. Mopley spoke severely, and, as the
richest woman in Red Wing, she felt that
her influence should be given strongly
against shiftlessness.
"But," went on Miss Vest, who was
making a morning call, for business pur-
poses, on Mrs. Mopley, Il must not forget
that l want you to head the subscription
for the home missionaries"
~ will do SO gladly" said Mrs. Mopley,
who was proud of her charitable DISPOSE
ton. "Let me see. How much did l give
last year? 1 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 a shah
by, but respectable-looking woman rang
Mrs. Mopley's bell, and was shown into
her parlor by the one house-servant that
Mrs. Mopley kept. 1t was the height of
luxury in Red Wing to keep one house
servant and a coachman-Mrs. Mopley's
establishment"
s'Good morning, Mrs. Tate" said Mrs.
Mopiey, rather reservedly, as she entered
the parlor. 81 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 relations
to last, and they had not seen each other
often of late years.
"No, he is not, began Mrs. Tate, her
voice trembling a little. eve had saved
up a little something, besides paying for
our house, but this long illness has used
up everything we had. | have sewed a
good deal. Mrs. barrow very kindly en-
ploys me for one day each week, and
could do even more than that, if there was
anybody else to employ me. Then, you
know, l have paid a great deal of attention
to cooking, and if you want anything done
in that line, l 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.
81 am not one of the extravagant kind,
you know, Mrs. Tate" said Mrs. Mopley,
somewhat coldly. sBut | cannot see an
old friend suffer-"
She drew her purse from her pocket.
Mrs. Tate rose with dignity.
81 do not ask for charity, " she said. Il
merely wish for work"
"But | cannot afford to put out my
work. insisted Mrs. Mopley.
"Very well, then," said Mrs. Tate. Il
do not wish for anything but work
I'll wish you would take this five dol
lar bill, really" stammered Mrs. Mopley-
II need it badly enough, heaven knows.
exclaimed Mrs. Tate, with a burst of tears,
which she could not help bat | cannot
take it without returning something for it.
Why should it cost you any more, IL
should give you five dollars worth of work
for it, than if | gave nothing at all? Is 1t
not a truer charity to give the poor work
than to give them money, and SO take away
their self-respeet?"
Mrs. Mopley stood irresolute, holding
the five dollar bill in her hand.
oil don't know bat you are right