The Mason County journal. [volume] (Shelton, W.T.) 1886-1927, 1890-02-21
A BALSAM PILLOW.
How Brie Earned Money to Pay
the Hired Help.

Now that fir needles and hemlock
needles have become recognized articles
of commerce, and every other shop
boasts its row of fragrant cushions,
with their inevitable motto: ''Give Me
of Thy Balm, o Fir Tree" I am re-
minded of the first pillow of the sort
that | ever saw, and of what it meant to
the girl who made it. | should like to
tell you the little story, simple as it is.
1t belongs to the time, eight or nine
years since, before pine pillows became
popular. Perhaps Chateaubriand Dor
set may be said, for once in her life, to
have set fashion.
Yes that was really her name! Her
mother met with it in a newspaper, and,
without the least idea as to whether it
appertained to man or woman, adopted
it for her baby. The many syllables
fascinated her, suppose, and there was,
besides, that odd joy in piece of ex-
travagance which costs nothing which
appeals to the thrifty New England
nature, and is one of it's wholesome out
lets and indulgences.
So the Methodist elder baptized the
IL
ing very queer work of the unfamiliar
accents; and then, as far as practical
purposes are concerned, the name
ceased to be. How can busy house
hold, with milk to set, milk to skim, and
pans to scald, and butter to make, and
pigs to feed, find time for name like
that? Baby" the little girl was called
till she was we'll settled on her feet and
the use of her little tongue. Then she
became ''Brie," and Brie Dorset she re-
manned to the end. Few people recol-
lected that she possessed any other
name, unless the marriage, birth and
death pages of the family Bible happened
to be under discussion.
The Dorset's was one of those pictur-
esque, lonely outlying farms, past which
people drive in the summer, saying:
''How retired! how peaceful!' but past
which no one drives in the winter. 1t
stood, with its environment of red barns
and apple orchards, at the foot of low
granite cliff whose top was crowned
with a fir wood; and two enormous elm
trees met over its roof and made q
checker-work of light and shade on its
closely-blinded front. No sign of life
appeared to the city people who drew
their horses in to admire the situation,
except perhaps, hen scratching in the
vegetable beds, or a lazy cat basking on
the doorstep; and they would drive on,
unconscious that behind the green blinds
above pair of eyes watched them go,
and hungry young heart contrasted
their lot with it's own.
Hungry! There never was any thing
like the starvation which goes on some
times in those shut-up farm-houses.
Boys and girls feel it alike; but the
boys are less to be pitied, for they can
usually devise means to get away.
How could Brie get away? She was
the only child. Her parents had not
married young. When she was nine
teen they seemed almost elderly peo-
Pile SO badly does life on bleak New
England farm deal with human beings.
Her mother, frail little woman, grew
year by year less fit for hard labor. The
farm was not productive. Poverty,
pinch. the inevitable recurrence of the
same things to be done day after day.
month after month, the same needs fol-
lowed by the same fatigues-all these
Brie had to bear; and all the while the
child had that love and longing for the
beautiful which is part of the artists
equipment, and the deprivation of
which rs keen suffering. Sweet sights,
sounds, smells-all these she craved.
and could get only in such measure as
her daily work enabled her to get from
that world of nature which is, the salts
faction of eager hearts to whom all
other pleasures are denied.
The ir-wood son the upper hill was
the temple ! where she worshiped.
Iheree1e went with her Bible Sunday
aiterseons, with her patching and stock
,ng mending on other days. There abe
dreamed her dreams and prsyed her