The Somerset herald. [volume] (Somerset, Pa.) 1870-1936, 1890-03-19

" hen he trGtted me 10 sleep nlty-louf VI
Iive years ago.
1t is from one of John Sebastian
Bach's dance suites" said Mrs. Mckin-
lev, her face lighting up. Fam always
pleased when people like Bach. When
they DO not, think it is my playing.
The Bishop had never heard of John Sc
bastian, and as he dropped into an easy
chair, he thought: "How subtly the
Devil lays his temptation nets the in
kept time with his head.)
'' That music somehow affects my nerves.
We learned to dance the minuet at
school," went on Mrs Mckinley, her fin
gers tripping over the keys. F" wish l
knew how TO dance the gavote. A school
mate from New Orleans taught me very
old jig It is the prettiest thing you
ought 10 see il"
Il should like to, said the Bishop his
face very grave.
I'll do it in a moment cried his
hostess, gayly.
Papa used to like it, and you are so
like him her voice broke. quite
forget you are Bishop"
g Are you sure you want to see that
iig9" she asked, a moment later, and |
springing up.
"If you can dance it alone, and are
we'll enough said the Bishop, feeling
that he was going to see something like
the spectacle which cost the head ofJohn
the Baptist.
Mrs. Mckinley pushed back the chairs
" Sit over there in the corner" she COM
manded. The Bishop was tempted to beg
her to pull down the shades, bu. he re-
strained himself, rejecting that the act
would tell her he was ashamed of him.
self. yet how could he rePrimand tbs
sioner of whose sin he mad no notion :?
She touched the piano lightly, and
then singing in a soft voice. began the
wicked jig. What pretty sight she was
Her walking skirt jnst gave glimpse OF
her little feet. She waved one hand,
then the other, tLen she dropped them
at her sides with the perfection of grace
She was like a dainty little fairy.
al hope you like il" she said, when
she had seated herself 1t is very old
fashioned, and is French. And viii you
believe it, that jig has gotten me into
trouble. believe viii tell you. You
will not mind hearing my trials, and this
is funny"
al shall be glad to hear abont il" re-
piled the Bishop, settling himself COM
fortably.
1T was last Christmas You see we
cannot decline invitations like other peo-
ple. and we had TO q aud spend the day
at the Stevens farm. Mark had to go
with Mr.. Stevens TO see a sick man, and
from ten o'clock till twelve had to sit
with Mrs. Stevens who is as deaf as a
post and takes piles and piles of snuff
though her nose is broken, and her
mother. Mrs. Harmon, who is also deal
when she wants to be, and Mrs. Belts
/ the iudges wife, and Mrs. Stevens sister
On. YOU cant think what it is like to have
) people ask you all sorts of imperiineni
= questions, as what your fathers business
was. and what he died Of, and how old
= YOU are, and If your mother was married
the second time The Bishop laughed
. grimly, and the little woman knew sh'
! had his sympathy. "Anl when the,
! did not ask me questions, they talked
1 about people they knew. 1t was hate
r ful way TO spend Chr 'simas, and whel
D Mark came, ! slipped away 10 the kitch
f en- where the children were cracking but
q iernuts. After little, they took me ou
TO the hay barn 10 see the c)lts; in th'
: house we wsre in the way OF the dining
;, getting. and | sat down on a blshel bask
h ct and told them stories. Poor thing
l. they had never heard any regular one
before. When ! came to the adventure
!, of Prince Rumplestiteskin, and when
;, he danced for his supper they asked m
If how he die it, and being cold and lone
t some, up jumped and danced that jis
i was lust in the midst of it when Mr.
n Stevens came to call me to dinner. 1ol
a should have seen her face And when
e had seated myself at the table, she sai'
in her exasperaiing voice, 1 found Mrs
n Mckinley dancing. ] hope my childrei
will never have TO see the like again.
n 81 tried to make the rest understand
: that had been doing Prince Rumple
: stiteskin, but you know how expiana
n rions 20. 1t was no use, l was in ba'
= odor. And that jig has grown like Jo
a nah's gourd, till among certain set
n suppose am thought to be an ex-Operi
n dancer. II was funny at the time. The,
n glowered at me and | glowered at tn
). oyster pie, which, let me tell you in thi
locality is just lot of fshy dough"
r The Bishop laughed. bat the tears wer
not far away. In spite of his eminen
:. practical ability, he was imaginative. HI
o knew that was sad and dull Christina
| to This little woman, just as it woul'
r have been to his dear dead Mary.
p "Of course | could not do anything
about it," went on Mrs. Mckinley
- The more you talk about things tn
: worse they grow, and | had done moth
ing TO apologize for hope you won
mind my saying it, but think gettinI
e used to being pastors wife is going Il
:, be a severe discipline to me.
{, "Well, brother, trust you have atten
l. ded to that trouble at Sodus," said Eide
d Walmsley the next week when he join
$ ed the Bishop at New Canaan.
q have
b What did you do ?"
f Nothing
Nothing r echoed the presiding el
e der with indignant surprise.
e Just nothing. There was nothing @
r the story. Something can come of moth
1 ing, when the basis of the nothing
.r gossip, and / fear. brother Walmsley
that the tongues in my diocese are a f.
greater danger to The Cause, than are Il
dancinO feet ~ ] E,.,fs,e.y ~