Fisherman & farmer. [volume] (Edenton, N.C.) 1887-19??, 1890-08-29
MIS- ALCINA KINGS PARLOR
BY EDITH SESSIONS UPPER.

Mis- King laid down the towel with
which she was wiping her dishes and
stood listening intently.
Then she stole on tiptoe to the wood
house and peered in to see if 'Lias, the
hired man, might be about.
Finding she was quite alone, she re-
crossed the kitchen, passed through the
living room, and paused before a closed
door as priestess might before shrine.
She opened the door and looked into a
large. uncarpeted, unpap sred, unfur-
nished room.
A smile stood over her thin, angular
features that fairly TRANSPORTED the plain
face.
"Looks dreary enough now," she said,
''but take an paper them walls-a sort
of cream ground with pink roses kinder
trailin' along; put some lace curtains to
the winders, an a brussels"-here she
stopped and looked defantly around
Eyes, why not? A brussels d outlast a
three-ply twice over. 1t will pay in the
end to put down a brussels. Then a
marble top table right in the centre of
the room with the dish of wax fruit on
it that Aunt Sally made. Then the sofy
an six chairs-how I'd admire to have
green rep like the Widder Beans an the
hair wreath hung over the sofy, an
wide Awake an Fast Asleep right
there, an Uncle Alonzo's picture-Lord-
amassy! Aleina King, what be ye
thinkin' on? Ye forgot the instruments"
and Mis- King Strengthened up, threw
back her head, and extended her knot
ted, wrinkled hands, began playing on
an imaginary musical instrument.
Suddenly she stopped. Her hands
dropped to her sides. The rapt smile
faded away, and in its place crept that
hopeless, repressed look, so often seen on
the faces of women of her class. She
closed the door gently and went back to
washing the dinner dishes.
The long summer afternoon wore
away, and Mis- King began preparations
for the evening meal. She took great
pains with her biscuits, and they came
out from the oven as light as thistle
down.
She opened can of her last preserves
and brewed an unusually good cup of
tea.
Supper was ready to the minute when
the click of the gate was heard, and Mr.
Kings heavy step echoed along the
walk.
He was grave, solemn man, with a
face not unlike that of an owl. He was
man of affairs at Podunky Corners, be-
ing the village postmaster and also one
of the pillars of the Methodist Church.
He was an expert in exhorting and a
bright and shining light in class meet
ing.
''Fer out-an'-out enhortin," his ad-
mirers were wont to say, E'give me
Brother King every time. He's master
hand at it. His warnin's to sinners are
jest bloodcurdlin' an fer picturin' the
worm that dieth not an the fire that is
not quenched, he can't be beat"
Tonight Brother King was, if posi-
BILE, more weighed down by the sins of
lost and corrupt humanity than usual, but
after biscuit or two and a third saucer
of his wife's excellent opium sass," he
began to unbend.
Then it was that, woman-like, she re-
solved to seize her opportunity, and
first coughing apologetically, she said
briskly:
81 was thinkin', Mr.. King, this after
noon, that we might as well furnish up
that empty parlor. 'Twouldn't cost
mcre'n a hum"
She stopped, awe stricken by the LOOK
on the good mans face. He was we'll
nigh petrifed at her audaeity.
so Mis- King, Mis- Rng," he
.mourned, setting down his EuD and re-