Perrysburg journal. (Perrysburg, Wood Co., O. [Ohio]) 186?-1965, 1890-09-27

1
ence OF my mother. A display of the
following articles brought from her
pale lips cry of astonishment Two
conrse calico gowns, one pair of heavy
cheap shoes, one straw bonnet orna-
monted with red feathers and blue rib
bons, one pair of blue spectacles, one
brown wig, two cheek plumpers, pot
rouge, another of powder u hare's foot
such as theatrical people use in their
making up and a largo red bandana
handkerchief
"Thcn l announced that / was about
to make application for position as
servant in the house of Mr.. Whitney,
my uncle's partner.
The next morning there issued forth
from the little lodging which had seen
the departure day after day of a weary,
pale, spiritless. very blonde and quite
refined young lady, an uncouth, rosy
buxom servant girl, whose only defect
| seemed somewhat weak eyeslEht
which necessitated at all times the use
of spectaclcs. For an ignorant country
girl, she seemed singularly quick and
| smart in the performance of her house
| hold duties In a week Mrs. Whitney
| had voted me treasure. In month
| mad sized up every member of the
household, and come to the conclusion
that Samuel Whitney was one of the
greatest villains the world had seen in
a long while.
II had discovered that my uncle was
completely in the power of Mr.. Whit
ney and his wife. They alone attended
to his wants and gave him his medi-
cine. Not another living soul, except
the doctor was permitted to approach
him. Once to my great Indignation l
heard my mothers namo mentioned by
the sick man. He had evidently been
frequently in the habit of asking for
his sister.
"'Why does not Mary come and see
me" he was asking.
81 have written to them several
times, replied Whitney.
The liar! Almost had mind to
tear aside my disguise, rush in, declare
myself and comfort him.
And have spoiled every thing. My
uncle had never seen me. While
Whitney would have been futtered at
first, he would have soon recovered
himself and | should have been igno-
miniously thrown out of the house.
"'Take some more of this medicine,
| heard Whitney saying.
"'No, no. No more of that. Medicine
won't save me. l don't like that stuff,
Samuel. 1 think it does me more harm
than good.
IA new light broke in upon my brain.
i la ar1 - 4, T
missed the idea as too utterly improba-
BILE. Whitney could never be re-enact-
ing in the nineteenth century the crime
peculiar to the age which produced the
Borgias-he could not be slowly killing
this man by poison.
but though | dismissed it the idea
returned to me with tenfold force that
night as | lay in my narrow cot. AL
though it was long past midnight,
could not otsleep. 1t was very close, sui
try night. / arose and opened the door
of my room to have more air.
LAS l did SO ! caught the sound of
voices.
"'What was that?' 1t was Mrs. Whit
ney who was speaking.
Nothing, replied her husband.
"'But heard noise
cit is nothing, | tell you; rats or
something like that. Go to Sleep
"The Whitneys were lying in bed,
awake and their door was open. Beyond
it was the room of the sick man. An ir-
resistible desire to hear further prompt
ed me to steal softly from the room into
the passage way. My foot caught in
the mat L could hear Mr.. Whitney
raise himself up in bed.
"'Whos that?' he called out
My heart stood still for moment.
It's Emma, sir! replied.
What are you doing out in the pas
sage this time of night?' he asked sus-
piciously.
why, 1 amt in the passage l re-
piled. 1T was hot and just got up 20
open the door,
"'Well, go back into your room,' said
Mrs. Whitney, and don't let me catch
you out of it till morning.
But would not go back. Something
| could not define recalled my suspicious
of a previous evening / felt intuitlvely
that they meditated some evil against
my uncle.
What are you standing there for?
Why don't you go back into your room
again" called out Mr.. Whitney.
1T was a trying moment knew
that if once shut the door could not
reopen it without making some noise,
which might lead to suspicious, which
suspicious might lead to an investiga-
ton of my trunk and effects which
would be only sorely aiscomforting
Yet rs it was | ran an awful risk.
stood here my natural self; no rouge,
no wig, no spectacles, just as l had risen
from my bed. Every dictate of pru-
dence told me to go back; yet an inner
whispered: Go forwardp
"'Are you going TO stand there all
night?' came the now exasperated voice
of Mr.. Whitney.
"'No, Pm not / snapped out; but
it's hard a poor servant gal can't get IL
breath of fresh air. And banged the