The Yakima herald. [volume] (North Yakima, W.T. [Wash.]) 1889-1914, 1891-10-29

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ronnd her waist and some old red artifi.
cials on her head, bowin' and twirlin'
like Q top, for she's just q feather on her
feet and always was, and she calls out as
polite as can be. Ladies chain, all hands
round. shashee TO the right and salute
your pardners. Yesterday she took to
maxim up dolls clothes for one Of her
dolls, stick Of wood she calls Melindy
Armstrong, and she was mutterin' about
your husband Anson, talking as II he was
alive and right here. Strange, amt 1t,
you never came across that receipt for
the money. It seems as though there
was some witch work about II"
80 1t does" said Hannah, laying
down the shears and turning her dark,
anxious face and clear eyes on Ruby; II
can see before me now the little tin box
be KEEP his choice papers in, and some
how 1t has disappeared I've searched
the house from attic to cellar in vain for
that box"
II don't know how sister Jane got
hold Of the notion there was trouble
about Anson's money" said Ruby, after
o moments silence, "but things come to
her through the air, l guess, and she sits
and mumbles and croons It over to her
self. Sybil hasn't come home yet, has
she?"
mo. she seldom gets home before
6ve."
"Humph," said Ruby, putting her
chin in her hand and studying the clean
painted boards Of HannahS kitchen
Aoor, "all right there, hope They do
say Lawyer Dinsmore Is going to make
pile Of money out Of that big railroad
suit"
"why shouldn't it be right" returned
Hannah, giving her startled look.
'Oh, nothin'; nothin' in the world, +"
said Ruby hurriedly, "only you know
them jokes in the newspapers about
pretty typewriters." She got up sud-
denly, took the pie from the table and
with unusual speed made her escape
through the kitchen door. Hannah felt
9 sudden sharp pain in her side. Ruby
seemed to have plunged Q needle into
her most sensitive fiber. and yet she
hardly knew why. What were the jokes
in the newspapers about pretty type
writers2 She had never chanced to see
them. She laid aside her sewing with a
vague sense Of uneasiness, and moved
about the kitchen mending the fire and
putting on the teakettle for the evening
meal-the family supper. There was
seldom regular dinner cooked in that
house. Hannah was always too much
driven by work to spend time to eat in
the middle Of the day. and the hot meal
was reserved for the time when Dick
and Sybil would be at home.
Now there was chicken to stew and
potatoes to bake and hot biscuits to get
ready, and when Sybil opened the door
the kitchen was redolent Of pleasant,
steaming odors, and Hannah was laying
the table in the sunny corner where the
sunset light streamed across the red
geraniums on the window shelf and
made them glow like fire. Sybil was
tall, slender girl, with golden brown
hair shading in little curls and tendrils
her forehead, round and arched like q
candid infants, underneath which shone
large gray eyes dotted with yellow points
Of light, and shaded by long silky lashes
i that rested when closed on cheeks Of q
clear healthy pallor. There was little
color save in the girls red lips. A Ger.
tain dreaminess Of poetic young girlhood
seemed to hang about her, and she was
usually quiet and undemonstrative. But
the moment she opened the door, though
her back was turned, Hannah knew
something had gone wrong with Sybil
But there was no remark made, though
Hannah watched with her mothers eye
that nothing ever escaped.
Dick came in whistling to his supper
and enjoyed the chicken with boys
healthy appetite. He told some jokes
the hands had got of at the chemical
works, and how he had 'stumped" the
foreman with problem, but Sybil was
too listless and languid to listen and
only pretended to eat Hannah remem-
bered what Ruby had said about the
pretty typewriters, and q heavy stone
seemed weighing on her heart as she
stealthily watched Sybil, who excused
herself before supper was half over and
went to her little room up stairs on the
pretext Of o bad headache. There was
still an hour Of daylight, and the sun lay
dreamily on the budding trees in Miss
Ruby's garden and across the misty,
pale green fields Of which she caught .
glimpse from her one small window. It
touched, too, the coarse plastered wall
and the little girlish belongings Of the
toilet table, 30 white and clean In maid
en- purity. But Sybil closed the shutters
and pulled down the shade and put her
self on the narrow bed with her head
covered with an old shawl Convulsive
sobs soon shook the girls slight frame,
but she held her breath and shut her
teeth tightly to suppress all sound, for
the partitions were very thin.
Hannah, however, had not waited 10
clear away the supper dishes. She left
Dick still engaged on his second plate Of
chicken, and mounting the stair opened
the chamber door and groped her way to
the bed. Sybil knew her mother was
lowering over her, but she only clutched
the old shawl the more tightly and
buried her face In the pillow.
"What Is it, Sybil, my girlr Hannah
asked, trying to steady her voice and
putting ueE WOrk WOEu uAnu uoWu VI
the girls silky hair.
"Oh, nothing at all, mother, only spring
fever and low spirits, guess. The
light hurts me. can't bear It, and
and I was thinking how hard II Is to be
always poor and pinched and kept down
Ii the world. But when think Of you,
mother" ," she went on in Q choked voice,
$50 brave and cheerful with all you do
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