Warren sheaf. [volume] (Warren, Marshall County, Minn.) 1880-current, 1893-08-03

The landlord, who had just brought
in a big log of moss fringed wood for
the open fire, looked at the landlady.
who was brushing crumbs off the
lavender-scented tablecloth. The
landlady looked back at her husband.
Its Barbara" said he
''Of course it's Barbara nodded she.
"And who, may venture to ask, is
''Superb peaches, these, my dear"
well, sir, everybody hereabouts
knows Barbara" answered mine host.
"She's been crazy these ten years"
II thought so," said Mrs. Towers.
''Poor thing! And why do they let her
wander about at large?"
''Oh, ma'am, she wouldn't harm a
fly" interposed Mrs. Wedderburn; land
she can't breathe free inside of four
walls, can't Barbara. They did put
her into the asylum one while, but she
pined herself to death there. She
wouldn't ha' lived six months, the doc
tor said, if they hadn't took her out
again.
Then abe has not always been in
sane?''
''Oh, bless your heart, ma'am, no.
Ten years ago she was the brightest,
puttiest girl in all the country. She
used to come here summers, when the
house was full of boarders, and help
around. Everyone liked Barbara" =
but what was it that destroyed the
poor things mental balance?" urged
Mrs. Towers.
The landlady drew her chair up to
the table.
''I'll make bold to sit down, ma'am,
and tell you all about it,, said she.
ct made good deal of talk hereabouts
at the time, and it always will as long
as Barbara wanders around the old
powder-magazine in that queer dress,
with the flowers and autumn leaves
and wild berries in her hair"
SIT is powder-magazine, then?"
"Oh, yes, ma'am. There was a
great manufacturing company here
once, but it was ruined in the panic of
1887, and there's not been an ounce of
powder in the place for fifty years.
It's a picturesque old ruin, ma'am, as
you yourself observed, and artists like
to sketch it. There used to be picnic
parties there, ma'am, before-but I
declare, I'm getting ahead of my
story"
And, leaning her plump, comfortable
elbows on the table, Mrs. Wedderburn
went on:
Ten years ago we had the most sue
cessful summer season that ever we
knew; up in the Catskills the houses
were crowded and some Of the young
gentlemen tourists actually camped out
in the barn o. nights. And Barbara
was here helping me-the rose of the
Catskills, one of my young gentlemen
guests called her, and somehow it grew
into by-word. And, If coaxing and
fattering could turn girls head, Bar
bara's was in a fair way to be turned.
Not that can accuse her of flirting or
carrying on-that wasn't Barbara's
way-she just went quietly about her
business and never said nothing to no.
body. But could see that she liked
Mr.. Warden, and Mr.. Warden was just
the one of the whole tribe and genera
ton of 'em that could wish she hadn't
liked. You see, ma'am, there's differ
ence in people, and, for all he made such
q fuss over her, / could see he was as
cold as stone and as hard as adamant.
Things went along smoothly, how
ever, until Miss Arkwright came up
from New York-Miss Arkwright, with
her trailing silk dresses and diamond
rings and hair built up in curls and
puffs and frizzes. Some folks like that
style; don't. But Miss Arkwright
was very rich and very fashionable, and
the minute saw her and Mr.. Warden
together, knew that poor Barbara's
reign was over.
The idea of making such commo-
ton over q mere servant says Miss
Arkwright. To be sure she's pretty,
but SO is china doll!'
beg your pardon, Miss Ark
wright, said I, but Barbara is not q
servant. She's neighbours daughter
said l, and she kindly does me the
favor to help me little at busy times,
bein' I've no daughter Of my own.
"And Miss Arkwright put up her
gold eye-glass and stares at me as if I
was an escaped wild animal.
Really! says she. How very graf
flying to knows
And of she saunteYs, with her head
held up in the air like queens.
The very next week she asked Bar
bara to go up to the stone tower with
her. Barbara didn't want to 60, but.
Miss Arkwright had . domineering way
with her, and the girl could hardly re-
fuse.
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