Pittsburg dispatch. [volume] (Pittsburg [Pa.]) 1880-1923, 1889-04-07

o. flip or of roasted turkey, whether oi
Country pumpkin" or Of the courtly cava-
lier. She slept the sleep of the righteous
and of the young, dreamless and indeed
motionless, until at noon her Aunt Huldah
wakened her, and asked if she thought she
were enough rested to dress herself for din
ner. The girl started with amazement that
she had slept all the morning. Such thing
had never happened since she was born.
And, as dinner went by, she constantly
turned the laugh upon herself by calling
herself the sluggard and the aunt Of
the sluggard, or asking her Aunt
Huldah if she had not done rightly in
coming to her. Dear, stately old General
Thomas, who at three-score and ten main
tanned the elegance of manners which he
had picked up when he was with the fleet
before Louisburg, asked her, as he always
did, who was the belle. And to the admir-
ing group of aunt and grandauht, grand
uncle and cousins, she told the story of the
great sleigh ride. She left out what she
chose, she exaggerated where she thought
it fair, and sometimes she would say that
she was the belle, and sometimes that Jane
Endicott was. He said he knew less of the
party at the end of her story than he knew
at the beginning. But all of them knew
that she had we'll enjoyed it all, and the
old General made to her the compliment
which he had made thousand times be-
fore, that she had brought her roses through
all the brighter for the exposure to the
night air. All which, indeed, was true.
Was all this gayety and raillery the. nat
raj outgrowth of night of good sleep, and
OF sound health we'll fed and INDUCED in
plentiful supplies of oxygen and exercise?
Or was there in it, not noticed even by those
who loved her, the least possible element,
just flavor of defiance? Was here the
staunch, stout determination of brave girl,
who had highly determined that she would
measure herself against the world, and
meant to begin by showing to the world that
she would take hold of the first duty which
came along, and would do it thoroughly
well? Who shall say? Not this writer.
Only this is sure, that after the generous
dinner which Aunt Huldah mad ordered
with personal care, after lounging little
with the rest in the great parlor, Miss Sarah
excused herself in the rather formal fashion
of that day, and found her way to her own
bedroom, where, in the indulgence which
waited on all her wishes there, she was per-
mitted to keep always her own fire.
As if she were tore-ordained to do this
thing, as if she were the daughter of Jeph-
tha advancing in a sort of triumph to the
altar she crossed the room to the table where
her Bible lay, she took from a drawer a
little ink bottle and uncorked it, drew from
another drawer large sheet of paper, such
as people used in those days of enormous
postages, and began to write. She addresses
her letter to Mr.. Manasseh Cutler, who is
gratefully remembered in our time, as being
one of the handful of men who made the
first arrangements for planting Ohio.
Sarah PARTS to MdnGSseh Cutler.
SALEM, February Ia 1890.
MY DEAR Mr.. CUTLER-I come you to
claim your promise sooner than you suppose;
and though we parted in joke I am now writ
ing in earnest. have made up my mind to go
to the Musklngum. told you that should.
VIII you make inquiry for me, and find some
family whom you like who are going, and who
would be willing to take me with them as one
of their party? Do not be afraid but that
be no trouble to anyone, and 1 will do my
share of the work on the way.
When we come to the settlement it will be
time for me to see if they want me to teach the
school, Very likely they have somebody much
better fitted than /; but it will be hard if 1
cannot make myself of use, as my poor mother
would have been proud to have me do; and If
the worst comes to the worst, can return
/ am wholly in earnest in what write, and
want to be sure to go as soon as the soonest 60.
Ny dear Mr.. Cutler, can never thank you
enough for your kindness to my poor mother
and to my brothers, as you see that trust to
that same kindness now.
Your own little girl,
SARAH PARIS.
The girl wrote without the slightest hesi-
tation, and in fact the letter had burned it
self into her mind before she began. For
really, she had been thinking of it for these
two days, and it was the certainty that she
was going to take this stroke, and to cut
herself off from all the lite she had been liv-
ing up till now, which had given that sort
of calmness and decision to her movements
frolic itself, which afterward all her friends
remembered. But she did not propose to
take into her confidence, even now, her
uncles or her aunts, or indeed anybody in
the household. 1t would be time enough
for that when the good parsons letter came.
Sarah Paris had indeed the right to
make her own determination where she
would go and where she would live. The
girl hardly remembered her father who had
never recovered from the exposure which he
had gone through at Valley Forge in
the terrible winter there. With her mother
she had been almost sister, and the death
of her mother, when she was herself but IL
or 18 years old, had made a mark IN her
character which was never effaced. But, as
perhaps the reader has seen already, the
to take life on the best terms. She had
come as soon as her mother died to the home
of her dear Aunt Huldah; she had entered
into the life and duties of the home with
heart and spirit, and she knew that she was
indeed one of the family so long as
she chose to stay there. But, really,
she had never meant to stav
there always and live the listless
life of a petted niece. She knew very well
that if she had discussed this with her aunt
or uncle they would have urged her to stay.
They would have said that she was of use to
them with the younger children, and all
this was true. But there was an element of
adventure in her blood, she was not dis
posed to live in this world without seeing
more of it than she had seen in Wenham or
in Salem; and in the As hours which had
passed before the sleigh ride on st. Valen-
tines Day, she had determined that she
might as well cut the knot of her destiny
now as ever. In this determination she
had written to her old friend, Manasseh
Cutler.
When the letter was written she made
no hesitation nor delay. She read it over
to be sure of her spelling and punctuation,
folding it in way in which no girl in this
century could fold, but in a way which was
one of the accomplishments of a lady or
gentlemen then; sealed it as no girl of this
generation could seal it, but as every lady
and gentleman was trained to seal it then.
and then addressed it. She put no stamp
upon it, for there had not been a stamp in
America since 1868, and would not be for a
generation after. She did not dare carry it
to the postofice, for if she had been seen to
put it in the box, all Salem would have
been discussing that evening the question
whom Sarah Paris had written to, and what
she had said. 1t was necessary for her to
wait till night before she confdedi it to the Sc
crecy of the public mail. But, so soon as the
sun set, she put on her hood and mantle and
walked down to the village. She bought
herself some trihes in the little shop which
was kept in the House of Seven Gables and
returning. quite after dark, passed the post
Office and so put her letter in the open slit
at the door. When the postmaster ap-
peared at 9 o'clock in the morning, and
handled the five letters which he found in
the box, he looked at her bold writing with
out recognizing it, shook the letter and held
it to the light but was not able even then