The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1892-10-18
TWO PAINTED DOORS.

Mr.. Miner boarded at 3 Simpson ter
race There was no terrace, but the
squire thought the name sounded So
norous and pleasant, so he had chris
tened his five little cottages Simpsons
terrace'). He boarded with Mrs Chip
ley and her two daughters, Maud and
Marian, who felt it a great distinction
to be of any service, however slight, to
the pastor.
Maud gathered fresh flowers for the
study table every day. Marian sat up
late nights to iron and mend table linen
SO that the good man might have clean
napkin every day, and to darn his stock
ings SO that you could not tell mended
pieces from the whole. and the little
widow herself exhausted every culinary
resource to humor his dyspepsia and to
contrive dainty dishes out of the least
possible foundation. To these three
simple women Rev. Milo Miner was
like an embodied saint.
ssAnd now that Mr.. Miner is safely
gone for the day." said Mrs. Chipley,
'.well clean the sitting room and white
wash the walls. Run to Dixey's, Maud,
for a lump of unslacked lime; and-oh,
by the way, bring some cornmeal, dear.
Well have hasty pudding for dinner
and eat at the kitchen table. Some
hasty pudding and milk will do for us
women"
ssOf course it will do. mamma" said
Maud.
ST just like pudding and milk" cried
Marian, jumping gleefully up and down,
sand, although Mr.. Miner is such a
dear, good man, yet it is sort of relief
to have him gone once in awhile, so that
we can clean house and eat hasty pud-
ding and milk. Oh, Maudr' she whis-
pered to her aesthetic sister. as Mrs.
Chipley went out to hang the big kettle
over the fire, GIVE such an idea in my
headl If you'll only get little grass
green paint, ready mixed, when you are
at Dixey's, and medium sized brush!"
"Green paint, Marian! What for?"
.Hushl don't let mamma hear! I'm
80 tired of hearing this called the house
with the blue door,"
Maud obeyed. Although the elder in
point of years, she had long been accus-
toned to be domineered over by pretty,
positive Marian.
ssBut it is the strangest thing,
Marian" she said, as fifteen or twenty
minutes later she handed over mys-
terious tin can and an oblong paper par
Gel to her sister; "Joe Dean is out now
painting his door blue"
q c1,7
cling her shoulders, now invested in a
preternaturally shabby old calico gown,
suitable only to the EXTREMIST exigen-
cies of housekeeping time.
s'Blue is a lovely color, but as applied
to a house door am heartily sick of it.
Joe Dean has no more taste than New
foundland dog"
1.-The Deans are expecting city com.
pany to luncheon" said Maud. ''They
sent to borrow the butterfly china plates
this morning"
cit must be nice to have city COM
pany," sighed Marian.
s'Oh, but to think of the work of it!S
said Maud, lifting both her hands.
Mrs. Chipley came in at that moment
also clad in what Marian called her
..scrubbing regimentals," and wearing
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 telegram
that his friend, Professor Klingenburg,
could not possibly meet him that day.
Every good" said Mr.. Miner, 'sI'll
just step back home and get mouthful
of luncheon, and then I'll go to look over
those ancient manuscripts with Or.
Hodges. He has been urging me to do
so for some time past, and I may never
have better opportunity than this"
Mr.. Miner tucked the umbrella under
his arm, tipped his black, wide trimmed
hat over his eyes and set off on swift
swinging stride back to Simpson terrace.
The blue door stood wide open. So he
walked in without the least ceremony.
'sFresh paintp' he said to himself, ele-
waiting his thin nostrils. eff 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 be in
the way when they're wanted. But,
fortunately, here's luncheon ready
spread. I wonder now how it hap
pened. How could they know I was
coming back. Cold roast grouse, with
current jelly-chicken salad, picked
oysters-really, now, this is something
quite beyond the ordinary run of our
bills of farey'
The pastor sat down and ate with an
excellent appetite. He made big hole
in the chicken salad mound; he picked
the bones of q crisp, brown grouse with
genuine satisfaction he buttered faky
biscuit and added to its flavor by several
spoonfuls Of amber ounce preserve.
Gall the same" said he to himself, as
he wiped his mouth with a damask nap
kin and rose from his chair, with all
other glance at the vegetable shaped
watch, "this sort of thing is quite be-
yond Mrs. Chipley's means. l thought
she had better sense. l must really