The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1892-03-09

MkE;':SNsWsSI to hear that she
neighbors in any
way, except in making better bread, pies,
cake, etc., in having the proud distinc-
ton of getting her washing OF the line
every Monday morning when her neigh
bors have only advanced to the point of
washing up the breakfast dishes; and in
understanding all matters appertaining
to housekeeping better than any of them.
In these things, Mrs. Quigley modestly
acknowledges she does excel; but if any
one we're to say to her: "Mrs. Quigley,
you are moralist, a philosopher, "a satirist
and strateglst," she would Indignantly
deny being any one of these things.
That she would not have the slightest
notion as to the meaning of the words
would only make her denial more EN-.
phatic. In appearance, Mrs. Quigley is
tall and stout, with ruddy face, and
hair streaked with gray; her eyes are
bright and dark. In front, her form is
what is commonly called short wasted,
here her apron band reaches ,ts highest
point, it dsscends as 1t encircles her
ample waist, and slopes off in beautiful
bow in the back.
The other day I went over to Mrs.
Quigley's to buy some butter. Mrs.
Quigley makes the best butter in the
country. but she doesn't like to sell it
to any but a regular customer. I am
not regular customer; Mrs. Quigley
has had all her customers for years. I
won't say am waiting for one of them
to die, but I should like to get my but
ter of Mrs. Quigley.
':Now, you've come fur more of my
butter, amt you," she said, as I ap-
peared before her, dish in hand.
I had my diplomatic speech all pre-
pared, so I began:
"You know, Mrs. Quigley, I can't get
any butter like yours in town. Mrs.
Brooke and the Doctor are coming to
tea. They always have such good but.
ter; you wouldn't want me to disgrace
myself by giving them the stuff that
comes from the store" Mrs. Quigley
had great contempt for "store butter. !"
"There's others has just as good but
ter as mine. You're only consatey,"
said Mrs. Quigley, looking highly graf
lied.
I disclaimed any tendency toward
'sconsatiness" so vehmently that Mrs.
Quigley weakened, as she always did.
"You'd talk anybody over; how much
'ud you wanta" she asked.
"As much as you can spare," I re-
piled.
81 couldn't give you more'n two
pound" she said, taking the dish, and
disappearing in the cellarway.
While she was gone I sat looking
around the shining kitchen, thinking
what an awful amount of work it must
be to keep everything in the required
state of polish.
"There's good two pound" said
Mrs. Quigley coming into the kitchen,
and holding the butter up to my admir-
ing eyes.
"Thank you ever so much," said 1,
gratefully.
Mrs. Quigley set the butter on the ta-
BILE. She always puts it on the table
instead of handing it to me, in order to
make me stay and talk with her awhile.
"Ive great mind to tell you some
thing" she said, looking at me with
twinklng eyes and waiting to be urged.
"Plesse do said I, all attention.
"Course you'd never tell2"
Iswore eternal secrecy, and Mrs. Quig-
ley proceeded
"Well, you know Jake has been a-run-
MIN after Min Smith,"
"Is it possible?" said, seeing I was
expected to be scandalized.
''Yes; and of all shiftless folks them
Smiths is the shiftlessest. T want
a-goin' to work an slave to get this home
fur Jake, and then have that Min Smith
a-settin' in my parlor, a-weariu' out my
carpet that I paid seventy five cents a
yard fur"
IL should think not!"
IL was most pestered to death.
didn't know what on earth to do.
knowed there want no use a-talkin' to
Jake, fur when his heads sot, it's sot
Jake's the kind of feller that's always
a-layln' down the law about how G
woman ought-a be, and then goes and
takes girl that amt no more like what
he wants han a crow"
.I've seen just such men,"
swell, that's the kind of feller Jake
is. I laid awake nights a-thinkin
about it, and at last struck on plan te
break it mp. You know Jake's Away:
said he'd never marry girl that couldn't
make good chicken pot-pie; he's terrible
fond chicken pot-pie: and plague take
the luck! if that want the very thing
Min Smith could make. l went over tc
her house and asked her to come ano
spend the day with me. She was tickleo
to death to get the invite. Course she
said she'd come. She was a-readin
when I went in. an the house want O
bit clean. I don't believe the stov'd