The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1890-08-22

covered a close fitting frame with
black silk aud added few loops of
| black SibbOn, | ventured to put here
and there in the ruche tiny Knot of
narrow lavender velvet. Ann looked
really pleased when she tried it on,
and the next morning. catching a
glimpse of her rs she went out of the
gate wearing the new bonnet, l quite
congratulated myself on my success {;
but a few moments later, having Oc-
caSion to go 10 the kitchen pantry, |
found, laid carefully together, not
only the knots of lavender velvet,
but every loop and bow that had dec
GRATED outside Of the bonnet. Plain
as / had thought ii. she hdd diVestod
it of everything except the ribbons
that served for strings.
lit looked very nice, ma'am," she
said, when demonstrated with her,
"but il was most too gay for II pro-
fessor," aud no amount Of persuasion
could induce her TO have the trim
mings put on again.
Her zeal for plainneSs did not CON
fiue itself to her own apparel.
II rather think, ma'am. II! have
to get somebody else 10 do the tiup
ir0nin', " she said to me one Mon
day morning.
But why, Ann?' Il asked in sur
prise. There are very Jew atarched
| pieces"
"Yes'm, l know it," said Ann,
"but they're tli'nmed. an as 1 don'I
| believe in foIRS Wcarin' trimmed
Things. Idon't think it would be right
for me to do 'em up for 'em."
"But don't you think, AoD," l
said, "that little trimming makes
a pretty fiuIsh to a garment ,"
"Oh. IT'S nice enough to look at,
ma'dm; / don't deny that; but it's
all pride o. tho eye and lust o the
flesh and | don't think professors
ought to indulge in such things. II
everybody lived up to the Bible,
ma'am, even the preachers wouldn't
wear starched buzz0ms."
And so rigid was she on this point
and so illogical as we'll that every
week she insisted on paying a woman
out of her wages to iron johns shirts
and collars and all the trimmed un
derWedr.
One day when was making des-
sert she suddenly asked, "DOn't you
think, ma'am, it'd be nice if people
could live now as they did in Bible
times ?"
"In what way, Ann ?" 1 inquired.
"Why, don't you know. ma'am, in
those days they lived mostly on
bread an fish? ? 1t was bread an fish
that the Lord gave the multitude to
eat i'll the wilderness. am bread an
fish that He gave the disciples when
| He cooked break fas' for 'em on the
shore"
"But fish doesn't agree with every
one, Ann" | argued. "and in inland
places fish cannct always be had"
"Well. | don't s'pOse 1t makes
much difference, ma'am, whether it's
bread an fish or bread an ms at but
it seems to me that III Patin', the
same as dressin', people ought 10 be
plain"
Having noticed that that she was
fond of reading. l one day offered her
a story book. She took it eagerly,
but before she mad read dozen pages
she came to me with "A grave face.
ais this true s,ory, nIa'am 2" she
asked.
Il can't saw, It's very true to life,
| think but no doubt some parts Of
it are made up"
"Then / guess | don't care to read
it, ma'am." she said, putting it back
in its place. "It ain't worth while
spendin' ones time readin' made up
things. When l read | like to know
that pm realm what's true" And
shortly afterWard found her seated
on the wood pile absorbed in her
Bible.
She had a genuine reverence for
scholarship, and took at first much
Interest in JChn's work as Il writer.
But one morning when John had
been reading to me story that he
had Just finished, Ann. who once or
twice had had occasion to pass
through the room, asked. with a puz-
zied look on her face, "What does
Mr.. John write about, ma'am ,"
"Oh, sometimes one thing, and
sometimes another" | said. "He
writes mostly Stories"
True ones, ma'am ?"
True in some respects, Ann; but
he makes them up largely out of his
own imagination"