Staunton vindicator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1860-1896, 1891-02-06
MRS. PAULDING THINKS.

Iwonder why sons will never marry the
girls their mothers pick out for them. Tho
perversity of human nature, L suppose
But it seems to me that if any one pointed
out the proper line of conduct to me
would follow it.
had never much of fancy for Gerarda
Abbey. Her lips and cheeks always seemed
to be too bright cQlored, and her dark hair
curled and flew about SO. And then her
eyes danced and shone in totally undig-
nifed manner.
''Tom,' I used to say at least once a
week, 81 wonder you don't admire Margie
Hoffheimer. She has such dignity, such
repose of manner"
$50 has an iceberg-and an OYSTER"
Tom would retort.
"Well! the young men of the present day
have strange taste. Shei is just my ideal of
with foolish bangs and frizzes."
''Pity she doesn't!' said Tom. sIt has
such lumpy look"
Tom is my only child. love him dearly,
but he has always been great weight on
my mind. For instance, in spite of all my
entreaties he would go to Fairview to set
w
opening at home, in Paschal, when old Dr.
Johns died. What dear, good old man
he was-but somehow he never came to see
me professionally that he did not make me
sicker than ever.
told him so once, and he did not take it
in good part at all.
Strange how few people can bear to hear
the truth.
Well, as 1 was saying Tom would adj
mire Gerarda and wouldn't admire Mar
gle. Now l am not mercenary, but l do
think it is better for young professional
man to marry girl with nice little fort
une of her own than one with a widowed
mother and five younger sisters and broth
ers, and just enough to get along on.
you'll never succeed, Tom," cried in
a pet, ''if you marry girl with pack of
mothers and sisters clinging to her skirts. +"
"Strictly speaking" said Tom il his pro-
voking way, "Mrs. Abbey can't be called a
pack of mothers"
"Oh, you know perfectly well what
mean; but have your own way, rs usual"
OF course had to call ON the girl, since
she and Tom were engaged. The little
house where they lived was always as neat
as pin, 1 must say, and Gerarda was the
mainstay of the family.
Twas polite, but not at all cordial. am
too truthful to assume anything l don't
feel told her thought she would look
better with her hair brushed back from
her forehead She colored, but answered
very pleasantly that "Tom liked it best so. +"
This happened during one of Toms Wis
it's home. He never staid long, and [ used
to tell him it looked as if did not make
him comfortable. Well, I did not see
much of Gerarda that fall, though we used
to pay each other duty calls now and then,
and when winter set in l heard of a queer
freak of hers.
She had opened dancing school,
Now there seems to be something very
bold and unfeminine about teaching a
dancing school. One always thinks wom-
an ought to support herself by teaching
music or embroidery or painting plaques.
play or paint, never having had much time
for accomplishments, fancy.
I couldn't understand it at all, for the
Abbeys had always got along SO far, and it
was particularly odd when Morton, the
eldest boy, had been given place in com
mission house in Cincinnati by an uncle or
cousin or something of the sort. began
to think she must have done it out of sheer
lightheadedness and frivolity.
wrote to Tom, hoping he might remon-
strate with her. am always moderate in
the expression of my opinion, so l simply
said:
"Gerarda is looking very badly. All this
dancing and racketing around is not good
for her. But the young people of the pres
ent day have 10 discretion. Modesty seems
to have gone out of date along with venera-
ton for their elders"
That was all said.
But it seemed to have no effect, for &C.
rarda still went on teaching, She began to
look worse and worse. All the color left
her face; even her lips were pale, and her
mouth got pinched look. Then she got a
hacking cough, and used to hear her 60
ing coughing along the street from her
dancing school. She had not been to see
me for the longest time-treating me with
marked disrespect. But at last | could not
bear to hear her, SO I just ran out to the
gate and gave her box of lozenges.
She thanked me; then she gave me IL
wistful sort of look and hesitated, as If she
wanted to say something; but she evident
ly changed her mind, for she passed on.
One day l was walking along the beach,
Winter was beginning to break up, and
there were bright patches Of green to be
seen here and there. The sky was blue
and white with flying clouds, and the
wateraround the pier was shining in the
sun. Everything looked SO peaceful and
happy that couldn't help wondering why
people can't be peaceful and happy, too, and
follow the golden rule.
had had very trying morning
In the first place had been to see Mrs.
Jones. When / went into the sitting room
there was fire cracking on the hearth,
and could see through the door that there
was one burning in her room also. Now,
as Mrs. Jones is poor, and as had supplied
her with food for the greater part OF the
winter, thought I had right to say:
"Dear me, Mrs. Jones, shouldn't think
YOU could afford to have two fires burning
Mt once-and such mild day, too"
She turned as red as beet and pressed
her lips together, but she didn't say any
thing. fear Mrs. Jones is far from being
sweet tempered.
Then went on to sister Harriet's. Her
daughter Ella had just met with quite
severe accident, having been thrown from
i buggy while out driving and her arm
broken. To be sure it was painful and the
shock had made her ill, but then she should
not have been SO foolish as to have gone
out behind Ned Pennywick's young horse.
[ reminded her of this.
"You ought to be very thankful ,, be-
gan.
Thankful for having been nearly
killed?'' she cried. 'Really, Aunt Maria,
my gratitude is not so easily aroused"
| sat down on the bed beside her. Per
haps may have drawn the cover rather
tightly over her feet, but she need not have
given such founce.
"My dear child, it might have been your
back or your neck" said.
"Well, it wasn't
"But it might have been.n