The Somerset herald. [volume] (Somerset, Pa.) 1870-1936, 1891-07-15
Mrs. Darrow's Poorhouse.
BY LAURA J. RrrrESBocsE.

1 ~--N A1tN N--%AS ~ ALNo III 11-e+-
yard, and unlocked her door with unusu-
al energy.
She united her rusty black bonnet,
carefully brushed away some imaginary
dust, opened a closet door, took out an
old-fashioned bandbox, and deposited
the bandbox in it.
Then she folded her thin wooden shawl
neatly, put it in its proper corner of the
upper bureau drawer, and then replaced
her well-worn alpaca dress with a calico
wrapper.
She was tall and thin, with a hard-set
face creased by innumerable wrinkles,
that made her appear much older than
she really was. Her abundant dark hair,
thickly streaked with gray, was pulled
back tightly from her forehead, and held
in an unbeeoming knot by an old
tusk comb that had once been her
mothers.
There was not a soft line in Mrs Dar-
rows whole contour, and she seemed the
embodiment of angles and unyielding
hardness.
She was widow now. Four years be
fore poor old Job Darrow had meekly
and not unwillingly given up the ghost.
In spite of the years that had elapsed
since then, people still talked of the hard
time he had endured in his unhappy and
unloyely home, where only the barest
necessities were dOled out to him, though
he was a skilled, sober mechanic, and
earned good wages. His wife had per-
sisted in putting the greater part Of his
earnings in the savings bank, lest that
he and she should come to the poor
house.
She had nursed this fear of ending her
days in the pOorhouse, until it had be-
come a mania with her and after her
husbands death had given herself up
wholly to the notion.
No suffering or destitution could be
great enough to enlist her sympathy. She
worried the dealers from whom she puI-
chased her scanty supplies by her " tast-
ings,' which often amounted to nearly
as much as her purchases and by her
haggling, penurious wayss.and her fault
finding.
On the morning of which I write, Mrs.
Darrow's face wore an air of triumph.
Her eyes shone eagerly, and her thin lips
were as near a smile As it was possible
for them to be, after the long years in
which smiling had become lost art to
them.
As she hastily buttoned her wrapper.
she muttered to herself;
"Pll settle the matter right now, l
guess. I'll go over and drag it away be-
fore they know what I'm up to, and III
gel some tramp ~ cut Il up for me sOon's
can I'll give him a soup bone in the
cupboard, and that corn bread, since it's
so hard and dry can't eat it. 1t seems
like shame to give that bone to lazy,
good-for-nothing tramp. but I'm afraid
I'll have to well, there's one comfort in
it-that polel- make stove wood enough
to last me at least three weeks, and not
cost me a cent"
AT this point in her soliloquy she tied
faded gingham sunbonnet upon her
head and walked out of her house, the
air Of triumphant satisfaction merging
into defiance, She crossed the street and
approached the house of her neighbor
and one time friend, Mrs. Rebecca John
son.
Directly in front of Mrs. Johnson's
house disused telephone pole was ly-
ing. 1t had been blown down and bro
ken by a severe storm several weeks be-
fore, and Mrs. Darrow had looked upon
it with covetOus eyes ever since.
Morning, noon and night she thought
of the pile Of stove wood into (which it
might be converted, until it seemed she
could never really rest again unless she
possessed it.
This morning her grasping spirit had
urged her to 90 to the manager Of the tel
ephone exchange and ask permission to
use.the pole.
To do her justice, it had cost her a
hard struggle to go. She was so grudging
herself that she felt sure be would re-
fuse, and perhaps insult her; but in
spite of this fear, she at last picked up
courage to go.
Mr.. Ingram, one of them telephone
poles has fell down in our street-broke
in that big storm, you know 'Tsint any
account, and it's dreadfuIly in the way.
Do you cnre if hire man to move it t?P
she asked, nervously.
Mr. Ingram looked up somewhat alb
sently. He was very busy at that mo-
ment, and good deal worried over the
complaints of poor telephone service,
with which he had been besieged since
the night Of the storm.
He looked at Mrs. Darrow. her shabby
but clean dress, her thin, restless kands,
her many wrinkles, and the sight touch
ed his heart"
"0h you mean another one of those
broken poles, do you (? In your way, is
il? Certainly, madam, you can have it
removed if you want to. l should have
had it done myself as soon as 1 got
through repairing damages. I shall be
glad to have it disposed of I'm sure.
Good morning, madam -
And so, before she fairly realized it,
Mrs. Darrow had been bowed out of the
Office,
Her conscience did not upbraid her for
having given him to understand that the
pole was in her way, when it was really
in front of her neighbor's house across
the street. She even INDUCED in a sly
chuckle, as she though Of the chagrin
that would fill Mrs Johnson's heart
when she found that the pole was Ia
ken away.
What mattered il if her neighbor real
ly needed the pole for stove wood She
was not responsible for Becky Johnson's
poverty. So reasoning with herself, with
cautious steps she approached he covet-
ed pole, and attempted to lift one end of
il.
But she had either 0verrated her own
strength, or underrated the weight ofthe
pole. She could hardly stir the heavy