The Somerset herald. [volume] (Somerset, Pa.) 1870-1936, 1890-09-24
THE MUSIC MAN.

aAunt Betsey," said Della Grey, can
1 60 over to Drew place to singing school
tonight p
No. you can't, and there's an end on
it, said Aunt Betsey Blatchford, knitting
away as if her needles were made of
sheet lightning, and her elbows worked
by electricity.
Della looked sober enough. She vas
tall. fresh-compIexioned girl of Il or is,
with large brown eyes, forehead sur
mounted by naturally curling rings of
chestnut hair, and q sweet red mouth, al
ways ready to break into gracious
smiles.
She had worked hard all day, making
soft soap and finishing the family iron
| ing but her labors had been cheered by
the anticipation of the evening singing
school that was to come.
1t was more than likely Aunt Retsey
knew all this, bat she sat there ike de-
ternined Eate--i a -hroKn calico gown
and tiuted cap frills. Aunt Betsey was
the autocrat Of Redberry farm. She own
ell the house and surrounding acres. and
the quartz mill by the river, and Della,
although by courtesy called her niece.
was really only distant relation who,
if not taken in and brought up by old
Mrs. Blatchford, would have been turn
ed over TO the tender mercies Of the town
poor house.
Delias a good girl enough, . said the
old woman, land as spry a worker as
ever was. But | don't believe in girls
! larking around the neighborhood the
hull time. They're deal better off sew
in on their patch work or cuttin' rags for
a new kitchen carpet"
But l promised the schoolmaster,
Aunt Betsey," said poor Della, her dim
pied face falling ike the barometer be-
| fore a storm. He's 70 call for me at
half-past seven And he viii see me safe
home afterward7
1 q Well, let him go away" said Aunt
Bsisey.
Delia could hardly see the glitter of the
knitting needles through the tears
that blurred her vision at these cruel
words.
There's to be dance out in the old
barn afterward,7 sine ventured to add,
and Iironed my pink calico dress 50
neatly, and my Iaces are all done up !,
On. Aunt Betsey. I'd work 50 hard at
/ the carpet rags all the rest of the week if
you'd let me 90 this once to the singing
school"
Aunt Betsey wheeled herself round in
her chair and eyed Della sharply through
the moon-like glasses of her big silver
bowed spectacles.
| Well, go If you want TO" said she,
tartly. Though all this music is clear
waste O. time. In nv young days if We
could join in the psalm tunes in church
it was all that the folks expected Us to
do p
Il Everybody plays and sings nova
days yentared Della, whose lofEiest and
brightest aspiration was for melodeon
or cheap parlor organ she could call her
own.
Hnnph = commented Aunt Betsey
They'd a deal better play on the wash
board and sing calling home the COWS
That's the sort of music that pays :"
Della sighed ard abandoned the ques-
/ ton. consent to go to singing school
was sufficient of a victory for the present
time. And when Marcus Wayte, the
village peiagogue, called for her at the
specified hour she was ready, in the stiff
rustIing pink dress, the freshly ironed
laces. and little pair Of brown cotton
oloyts and over-frilled wristlets that
| pere entirely new.
But it's the last time" she sighed
q Aunt Betsey thinks that music Is use
less and nonsensicsl, and she won't have
me fooling away my time at singing
school, she sayss'
: On, Delia--and those lessons on th'
melodeon that have been giving you q
DR.. Bartlett'ss
They will be of no use" repiiec
Della, with little treInor in he
voice.
Does she know that people sometime
earn their living by the aid Of music 2
: [ persisted Wsyte.
She don't believe il I"
"And you have such taste for it Delis
Nav. more than taste-a decided talent
Oh, we must not let the thing drop. Yo'
. must have a mslodeon-it won't eos
much 10 hire one by the quarter-an'
you go on with your lessons"
81 Della shook her head
1T viii be impossible said she
mournfully.
q -II see. about that said Marcu