The Cambria freeman. [volume] (Ebensburg, Pa.) 1867-1938, 1893-03-17
A PRACTICAL JOKE.
It Taught Miss Isabel Islay a
Needed Lesson.

=
in the neat little yard that fronted the
village post office, the maple trees had
dropped their red stars long ago, and
here and there one found pink clusters
of honeysweet trailing arbutus in the
woods.
Isabel Islay had bunch in the front
Of her Jacket as she sauntered up to
see If there were any letters for her.
A little group Of men and women had
gathered there for the same purpose.
The women eyed Isabel and wondered
how it was that her dresses always
fitted her so stylishly; the men looked
adIniringly at her big blue eyes and
rosy complexion.
Two or three other mill girls joined
Isabel; they laughed and Ia ked gayly
as the spectacled old postmaster sorted
the mail.
AT last the unpainted pine partition
slid back, the spectacles appeared in
the aperture, and the postmaster cried
briszly:
''Naow, then, who wants their mail?"
Isabel stepped forward.
Anything for me, Mr.. Rider?" she
asked
'''Islay, Miss /, Isabel Islay, Miss Isa-
bel Islay?" read out the old man.
Three iOT You who next!
Isabel got all the letters giggled
the mill girls, as Isabel received her
treasures. ''She might divide with us.
Here comes Miss Seaman. Now for
some fun"
\ pallid. pinched, old young lady here
advanced with a smirll on her coun-
tenance, wearing a faded shawl, whose
folds scarcely covered the fiat basket
she carried
Anything for me, Mr.. Postmaster?"
she demanded, with i'll assumed indif-
ference.
mo. num-" carelessly answered the
postmaster.
Are you sure?"
''les, mum"
face.
20, but it really doesn't signify. l
thought I'd just inquire, as l chanced
to be passing"
Then she withdrew amid the very
audible laugh Of ths mill girls
There amt a mail comes in but
Miss Gcnny Scaman's here a-vatchin'
for it, said the postmaster, oracularly.
And she never gets a lettcr-not so
much as postal card should think
she d get tired OF coming"
Miss Genevieve Seaman" said the
carcworn woman of the house where
tlle girls boarded 20, that all hap
pened years ago, She had bean or
something and he went away-nobody
lust knew where. Reckon she didn't
know herself. And IL sort Of upset her
brain and she amt fairly been herself
since She's very good dressmaker
and she trims bonnet quite scrump-
tiously, and so she earns decent liv
ing. But she's been expecting a letter
these twenty odd years and it's never
come"
Girls said Isabel Islay, as they sat
at the round table that evening, laugh
ing and talking. lets write letter TO
that poor old thing from her lover in
the east"
"Was he really her lover, Isabel?''
asked Lucy FELTON,
"Wcn, from the man she imagined to
toe her lover. Let's make it fervent as
fire and sweet as sugar. Let's lay it
on thick"
In short, let's play joke on Miss
Genny Seaman said Mary Crane, who
was retrimming an old straw hat with
lilac ribbons and bunch of violets.
just that" said Isabel
But you don't know even the fell
lows name, Isabel"
Il can find that out Mrs. Webb
knows, and l can easily coax it out of
her. 1t will be such fun!''
1t was morning-a blue sl5yed, breezy
day, with the air full of growing scents
and blue-bird whistles-anG soon after
the cumbrous old four-horse stage had
crashed through the village the usual
crowd began to assemble in the little
post office. Isabel Islay was there, and
Lucy FELTON, and black-eyed Mary
Crane, and presently Miss Genevieve
Seaman, tripping in with the peculiar
gate which the irreverent village chill
dren compared to a cat walking upon
walnut shells.
Two for Miss Islay," said the old
man, scrutiniZing each letter with pro-
vol1ing slowneSs. Zone for Squire
Zurubbable Jenkins; one for Widder
HOPPER, and one for Miss Genevieve-
| Seaman
Isabel flashed merry glance at her
companions as the poor little dress
maker tiptoed up to the counter, her
color changing from saffron to scarlet,
her faded blue eyes full of intent
rapture.
| us IL true? A letter for me-mei
And I've waited for it all these years!
! All-these-years!''
She hid 1T under her shawl, east de-
fant look around at the neighbors'
J faces, and hurried away like a startled
wild animal to its cover. She could
1 not open that letter with other eyes
! upon her. She felt that she must
treasure it to herself. like one who has
discovered precious jewel.
On her way home from the mill that
evening Isabel Islay stopped at the
little house where the tin sign: mil
linery and Dressmaxing," swung