The weekly messenger. [volume] (St. Martinsville [i.e. St. Martinville] La.) 1886-1948, 1890-03-08
instead of helping as before was now as

table that keeping boarders longer was
an impossibility even had Phrosy been
able to do the work. So it was that
every cent that came into the family had
to be earned by Ben; and so it was that
the new lawn dress, so ardently desired,
seemed to be among the impossibilities
of existence, for Ben's wages were small
at best and there were at least q dozen
ways for every dollar.
And Phrosy thought altogether too
much of her patient and kind-hearted
brother, who denied himself so much
to keep her and his invalid mother from
want, to add to his burdens by telling
him her own troubles.
'If there was only something that /
could do myself to earn little money"
she said to herself, ''but there doesn't
seem to be. Mother wouldn't hear to
my running the machine steadily, even
if could get sewing to do, and there
is nothing else. It's hopeless case. ]
guess" And, signing heavily, Phrosy
turned to enter the house in answer to
fretful call from within, but as she did
so her eyes fell upon the clothes-line in
the side-yard.
SIN one minute, mother" she said
checrily. "rll just bring Ben's shirts
in as come by,-they're all ready to
raw starch and can iron them by the
supper fire."
How white and clean and sweet they
were! As Phrosy gathered them into
stiffiy awkward bundle in her arms she
could not help bending her head to in
hale the 'smell of outdoors" (as she
called iD that came from them.
They smell different from Chinese
washing" she thought. "Thcre's one
thing certain, poor as We are Ben's
shirts are always the incest done up in
town." and then as that thought passed
through her mind it left an inspiration
behind it.
That night after supper, when Ben
was resting himself from his days labor
BY 'puttering" around the chicken
house and backyard generally, and
Mrs. Miller was chatting with neigh
Dor who had opportunity dropped in,
Phrosy, pleading an GRAND at the store,
slipped away from them all and pro-
ceedcd to put her inspiration to the
test of practically.
at might be a good idea," said
kindly Mrs. Jenk ms, to whom she had
gone in her emergency, "but there's so
many o them plagu,y Chinese around
that it brings prices down dreadful,
and most folks don't care how q thing
is done so it is done cheap"
"But my things don't smell of
opium and nastiness as the Chinamen's
do" averred Phrosy stoutly, "there
must be some one who would rather
pay little higher and have things
nice"
/" Such folks is scarcer than dia-
monds in dust heaps" was the senten-
tious reply. 81 would myself, of
coure, but old Ma'am Gilman has
kind of got a mortgage on me, and
though she's failing dreadful and don't
send things home fit to be seen some
weeks, 1 kinder can't go back on her
all at once" -. -
"Of course not" assented Phrosy
unhesitatingly, THAT isn't what want
at all. But-see here-you ask Joe to
inquire around up to Loren's mill and
1 do believe he'll fad something for
me. l don't care to say word to Ben
or he'd fly all to pieces-nor you
needn't tell Joe who it is that wants
the things-just let him say some one
who'll do them the best they can be
done and needs the money"
"All right" said Mrs. Jenkins. "Tll
keep it as still as m &c, whether it turns
out we'll or not. You come by tomor-
row night and I'll tell you the verdict.
And SO, full of hopes and fears and
fond imaginings, Phrosy went homo.
The next night Mrs. Jenkins met her
with her broad face beaming. 'I've