The weekly Thibodaux sentinel and journal of the 8th Senatorial District. [volume] (Thibodaux, Lna. [i.e. La.]) 1875-1898, 1892-10-29

nasty pudding and mix Will do for Us
women"
''Of course it viii do. mamma" said
Maud.
4 just Ike pudding and milk cried
Marian, jumping gleefully up and down.
land. although Mr.. Milner is such
dear, good man, yet II IS a sort Of relic
to have him gone once in awhile. SO that
We can clean house and eat hasty pud-
ding and milk. Oh, Maud she wills
pere1 10 her aesthetic sister. as Mrs
Chipley went ont to hang the big kettle
over the ire. I've such an idea in mv
head, Il You'll only let u little ga,
green paint. ready Mined. when YOU az
al DiSeys. ard Il medl.-. sized b.usl.."
Green paint. Marian! What for:
Hush. don't LEI ma1nE1. hear. Ia
50 tired Of hearing this called the hCa.
with the blue door"
Maud obeyed. Although the elder IL
point Of years, she had long been accus
toned to be domineered over by pretty
positive Marian.
'But Il is the strangest thing.
Marian" she said, as fifteen Or twent-
minutes later she handed over a n.ys
1e.inns tin j and an oblong paper par
Gel to her sister: Joe Dean Is out how
painting Lis door blue"
Tastes differ said Marian. slrrug-
ging her shoulders, now invested i'll d
pretez2atlrally shabby old calico gown.
suitable only to the EXTREMIST exigen-
cies Of hO~useclpanine time.
Blue Is q lovely color. but as applied
70 a mousse Goor am heartily sick IF Il.
Joe Dean has no more taste than d New
~foundland dog"
The Deans are expecting city cora-
pary to luncheon" said Lar.d. .Taer
sent 10 borrow the butterfly china plates
this morning"
1T must be nice to have city ON
pany." sighed Marian.
'.Oh. but to think Of the work of it,
said Maud. lifting both her hands.
Mrs. CLipley zane in at that moulenz
also clad in what Marian called he4
'scrubbing regimentals." and wearin,
an olive silk handkerchief tied around
her still bright and glossy hair. and the
three set themselves determinedly to
work.
Rev. Milo Miner, on reaching the
railway station, received a telegram
that his friend, Professor Klingcnbur@.
could not possibly meet him that day.
Very good" said Mr. Miner. III
just step back home and get a mouthful
Of luncheon, and then III go to look over
those ancient manuscripts with Or.
Hodges. He has been urging me to 40
so for SOM time past. and | may never
have q better opportunity than this
Nj. Miner tucked theumbreila under
his arm. tipped his black, wide trimmed
hat over his eyes and set off on a swift
swinging stride back TO Simpson terrace.
The blue door stood wide open. So he
walked in without the least ceremony.
Fresh paint he said to himself, ele-
waiting his tain nostrils. If there's any
thing on the face Of the earth | detest it
is fresh paint. And I've got it all over
the skirts Of my best coat too. Where
is Mrs. Chipley: What has become Of
the girls: Nobody ever seems to he IL
the way when they're wanted. But.
fortunately, here's luncheon ready
spread. | wonder now how it hap
pened. How could they know | was
coming back. Cold roast rouse. with
Current jeliy-chicken salad, pickled
oys5eTs-rcally. now. this il something
quite beyond the ordinary run of orr
bis Of fare!"
The pastor sat down and ate with an
excellent appetite. He made a big hole
in tie chic.:cn salad mound: he picked
the lou-s OF Il cl1sp. brown grouse with
gelU,4e sa'izf4ction; he bG,tered a flaky
biscuit and added to its flavor by several
spoonfuls q amber qu..ce preserve.
Ali the sdl.e, said he to himself, as
he wiped l1is month with Il damask naY-
kin ana rose from his chair, with Az
other glance at the vegetable shaped
watch, this SOFT OF l.1iAs Is qtte re
yond LIS. Chipley's means. | Thought
she had better sense. | must really
speak to her about il. In the meanu Is
| must make good speed if | e2pect 10
h%v. much time at my friend Hodges
place"
Away he trudged. much ~comforted
and sustained as regarded his inner r:tn
Joe, Joe!" shrieked Mss France
Dean. coming into the room a few min
utes laser. what have You done! Fate:
up all the company luncheon: Oh. yoi,
greedy
Il didn't DO no such thing" shouted
Joe from al upper room, where he was
Transforming himself from an amateur
journeyman painter to a modern tennis.
player. What are You talking about"
Some one has eaten his fill" criel