The Colfax chronicle. [volume] (Colfax, Grant Parish, La.) 1877-1981, 1892-10-29

lorn old woman in it. How finely peo-
pie are getting to dress. Pm sure
don't see how they afford it," muttered
she, as group of young iadic passed
her in beautiful gowns of shimmering
summer goods. And then she thought
of her Sunday silk, lying undisturbcd
for fourteen months in the trunk at
home, and wondered whether it had be-
| come spotted. She would examine it
as soon as she got home.
Her CHEEKY mood was dampened by
an encounter with the pastor of her
church, Rev. DIR. Bookster, who seemed
to answer her hearty bow rather stern.
ly. "Ile needn't look so mad" she
grumblcd to herself. Goodness knows
i go to church as often rs can. If he
had to keep house for nine cross-grained
mortals as l do, he wouldn't go to
church but once in fourteen months,
either"
Mrs. Snively soon grew jolly again,
as laughing, happy crowd of children
came jostling toward her, books and
papers in their hands. Schools out
early this afternoon" thought Mrs.
Snively. "And dear me, what sweet
little darlings. But don't think it's
right to dress children mp so, just to
send them to school. Now do look at
that silk waist. and that little chaps
velveteen. When | was a girl, calico
was plenty good enough for school.
But moneys getting abundant nova
days, 'cepting in certain tin box
know Of"
A square or two further she began to
come to the stores. whats the post
Office closed for! Some government
holiday, suppose. Government seems
to have twice as many holidays as or
binary folks, anyway. And Holling-
ways closed, too! Now do hope his
wife isn't dead. She was real bad,
last heard. Why, of all the world!"
Here Mrs. Snively's surprise became
inarticulate, for she turned corner on
long row of stores, all closed and the
curtains down. Here was the market
where she must go first, all shut up
and the door locked, for she tried it.
Whats wanted, Mrs. Snively?" said
the owner, jolly young man, who lived
above his shop and who CHANGED to
come out at this moment very neatly
attired. Getting contributions for
the heather, Mrs. Snively, in that big
baslSet?"
II want to know, John Boardman,"
began Mrs. Snively, smartly, why all
these business houses are closed. What
sort Of a new tangled holiday is this?
You'll have it next so that one can shop
only one day in the week"
why, Mrs. Snivcly, don't you believe
in keeping Sunday?"
Sunday! John Boardman, are you
telling me that this is Sunday?"
''Of course, it's Sunday! Why, what
did"
But Mrs. Snively, big basket. market
ing and all. a scared. Tutoring, COM
ical little figure, was already half
square away, scudding along with q
sore heart, half shrinking. half defiant.
well, no wonder" groaned she.
1.-THE same life, week in, week out
One day ike the rest. No one to talk
to except the dodgers, and then only
about eating. Ihave no Sunday in my
life, and that's fact. What are you
giggling at, You impudent little brat?"
This to an urchin trotting from Sunday
school who stopped to gaze in undis-
guised wonder at the big basket.
Mrs. Snively went home through by.
streets, feeling woefully conspicuous,
and quite like feminine Rip Van
Wrinkle. When she reached her great,
lonely house, she set the big basket |