Orleans County monitor. [volume] (Barton, Vt.) 1872-1953, 1890-10-06
Mrs. Kings Investment.

the farm, afterwards to buy that wood
lot. then the meadow land adjoining
his; each acquisition of farm, wood
lot or meadow land being only a
fresh morsel to feed his appetite for
property. it mattered little to him
that this one appetite was fed only to
starve those for church and society.
He never went to church or made Wis
its. never read books OF went to con-
certs Such things cost money, and,
according to his ideas of profit and
loss, did not pay.
Mrs. King ?Yes, oh, yes. she was
a wife. Who else would work SO
many hours a day for so little pay as
a wife? With this fact in view, Mr..
King in his younger days had hasten
ed to take unto himself the stoutest
and spryest girl in the country, and
he would tell you very emphatically
that marriage was not a failure.
Mrs. King followed her ideas of true
wifely duty, had smothered whatever
of motherly and womanly instincts
she may have had, and followed
faithfully in her husbands lead, MAX
ing his dearest wish hers. Possibly
Mrs. King, too, may be no stranger
to you. They had come to middle
life now without children, and, as
might be expected, no very dear
| friends.
One stormy Christmas night Mr..
King, coming into the house we'll
powdered with snow, said: oval,
it's commencin' to snow pretty fast,
and has set in for an all-night's job
| of it, reckon. Thingsll be pretty
we'll covered up before mornin." AS
he sat waitin' for the calves milk to
be SKINNED, his sharp face, in its
frame of grizzly hair and beard, re-
Taxed into an expression of shrewd
| satisfaction, and, as he rubbed his
horny hands together, he proceeded
to give his wife what he supposed to
be pleasing bit of information
81 saw the Widder Brooks ter-dav,
an told her / should have to fore
close, and / wanted her to find an
other place before spring. That
piece of medder back of her house
cuts fine crop of hay, and I'll need
it another winter
Instead of the look of sympathy,
the wife's face only took on worried
expression, and the lank figure in the
faded calico seemed to have more
discouraged droop than before, as
she said: ''Oh, dear Why couldn't
yer let her be in peace. What'll be-
come of her an lame Jimmy, now?"
go to the poor-house, likely"
said Mr.. King, who did not exactly
relish this style of sympathy. "Any-
how, can't afford to let it run an
other year and lose all that fine crop
of hay"
But the clouded face only took on
deeper shade, and the yellow cream
was thrown into the earthen jar with
unnecessary energy, as she replied:
Goodness knows we've got land
enough to keep you an me and all
our stock as long as we live, an it
seems ter me 'twould be good plan
ter invest in a few friends in our old
age. [ think it would be kinder
pleasant ter have some one feelin'
friendly and grateful to US for a
change"
''Why, 'Lisbeth, what's come over
your" calculated her astonished hus-
band.
ooh, nothin' only | hain't had
much to do this afternoon, an I've |
ben thinkin', and hain't found any |
comfortin' thoughts. Here you and |
l be, a CROWN older every day Of our
lives. Did you know that, Timothy
King
In her excitement Mrs. King |
Strengthened herself up and was
pointing her remarks with fourishes
of the skinner.
Eyes, 1 did. Known it ever since
l was born"
The creamy interrogation point
was brought little higher, and the
wife went on: ssAnd did yer ever
stop ter calkilate how many of orr
five hundred acres twill take ter COW
er us when we get so wrinkled up
and dried up that we can't live no
longer? An do you know of anybody
on the face of this earth who would
feel one bit bad or shed one tear ter
see us buried ter-morrer? don't, an
I'm sick of Twin so, that's all p
Just then, without any warning, the
outside door opened and little girl
walked in. Closing the door behind
her, she went up to Mrs. King, and
holding up battered tin cup, said,
in an eager tone:
EOh, ma'am, will you please to
give me little of that milk? It's
Christmas, you know"
'sAnd who might you be" asked
Mrs. King, rather startled at this
sudden opportunity for putting in
practice her new doctrine.
sob, I'm Doxy Walters, and |
have the cunningist little baby broth
er that ever was, an I'm afraid he'll
go back to heaven If he can't have
any milk to drink. Won't you please
fill this cup? It's so little
Mrs. King laid her skinner down,
saving. "What's this you've been