The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1892-05-14
PLU MVILL LECHANGE.

Plumvllle 'foh de wah' was an
uninteresting little village lying in a
remote valley of a New England
agricultural district If the soil was
thin the rocks were thick-so thick,
indeed, that it was grim joke that
shotgun was needed to get the
seed corn into the first and between
the second. Owing to this bedrock
the drainage was poor, and what the
drouth spared sudden showers
swept away.
All the young men went west, the
old shoemaker had moved away,
and even the minister had departed,
leaving a monumental pair of crossed
poles to bar the entrance to the
meeting house. And yet those
natives-New England men and
women-were not lacking in shrewd-
ness and common sense. They were
simply discouraged. With all their
hard labor they never got beyond
the bare necessities of life. They
had no amusements, no expectations
no hope. The women never had
time to sit down, but spent their
time cooking and washing in the
kitchens. The front room was always
closely shuttered, the front steps
were overgrown with coarse weeds,
and the front gate refused to open.
Everybody came and went By the
back door, along the narrow tootpath.
No flowers were cultivated, and few
varieties of vegetables. News was
old when it reached Plumville, and
excited little more interest than
archaeological stories.
Few books were bought, and
those few of a kind in which no
rational being could feel an interest.
Games of cards were tobooed.
There could be no social life in so
sparsely settled region. 1t was
custom for the farmer who had
"arrants" in the village to bring the
occasional newspaper or rare letter
for the inhabitants on his route. So
if Brown saw Smith jogging along
toward "the Center" he (Brown)
knew that on Smiths return an hour
or two later he would find anything
the mail had brought him IN his
yard, tossed there by the obliging
Smith.
Once a year, perhaps, there would
be a wedding, for in Plumville all
widowers speedily replaced the first
On these occasions it was usual to
borrow white kids from the doctor
who had scntimentally or economi-
cally Qor he had himself worn them
at two seperate ceremonles) pre-
served his with care.
In the spring OF 1880 old Mr..
Elkins fell sick. His wife had just
died, and he had no children. 1t
was an added burden to the weary
neiehbors, who felt they must do"
for the old man. A the best it was
fragmentary service, and the Invalid
was alone many hours out Of every
twenty tour. The relief was great,
therefore, when somehow or other
nephew's widow, or a cousins
daughter, appeared as nurse and
housekeeper She bought a niece
with her-a slip of a freckled girl
about sixteen years old, whose name
was Milly French. Milly assumed
the care OF the chickens, MIXED the
COW, fed Towser, and as she came
and went about these duties the
neighbors wondered to hear her
singing like happy bird. She
threw open the front blinds and let
the sunlight sacretigiously stream
through the windows; she even set
the sacred front door ajar, and sat
on the doorsteps on pleasant after
moons with her knitting work. If
the sunset were very gorgeous she
was seen with idle hands. The
spindling grass was sheared off so
that the gate would swing back
easily.
It's enough to make Miss Elkins
turn in her grave, said neighbor
Flint.
As the summer advanced, all un-
conscious of Plumville ct quette and
conventionality, Milly wandered IN
the fields hunting for orchids or took
long walks to Bacon's woods, fetch
ing her basket full of plants, which
she industriously transplanted in the
virgin soil of the Elkins front yard.
Well, | never said Mrs. Flint, as
she peeped through an opportune
crevice of her side window. What
won't she do neXt2
But MillN watered her honey