The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1893-04-15
PRISCILLA'S ERROR.


Friend Priscilla Gibbons sat in the
rocker in her cozy front room. The
fire in the crate was of the brightest
and cheeriest the cat on the fur rug
in front of the chlmneypiece purred in
solemn and self satisfied content there
were growing plants and vines in the
broad window, and the sunshine
filtered in through their fresh leaves,
making fecks of light and shone on the
gray carpet. 1t was cold out of doors,
but from that room winter was shut
out. 1t looked like Quaker room.
Everything shaded to gray and white.
Friend Priscilla's yearly meeting bonnet
was not more distinctly Friendly than
was the pretty room where she came
with her knitting or with her book IN
all her spare moments, and where, On
first day evenings, she had her tea in
honor of the special character of the
day.
But no thought of tea was enter
tanned IN Friend Pnscila's brain just
then, as she swung back and forth in
her wicker rocker. The restful peace
with which the day began had been
scattered to the four winds of heaven,
and it was with soul entirely out of
harmony with the serenity of her
surroundings that the little lady sat
there that afternoon.
However could it have happened !
she moaned to herself over and over
again. Jane is so careful and | always
look over the things and put them
away myself. Like the Widow Green,
she searched the Scriptures 10 find a
text that would somewhat ease her
mird perplexed, but not one seemed
to exactly fit her case as she sighed to
herself. They dressed so differently in
those days.
Friend Priscilla was the dearest old
| Quaker lady wro ever attended meet,
ing and sat In the "gallery." She had
sat facing the meeting for more years
than most of those in attendance at
that particular place of worship cared
to count up. Time had touched her
lightly, and, although her hair was a
little nearer white and her small hands
trihe more withered, her eyes were
as bright and her cheeks as soft and
peachy as they had beel thirty years
before. Friend Priscilla was distinctly
a pretty old lady. One of the younger
and more irreverent members OF the
meeting had greatly scandallzed the
older Friends by heedlessly remarking,
"We younger ones have no chance in
the matter of good looks; Priscilla
Gibbons is the belle of every yearly
meeting"
1t might be shrewdly suspected, too,
that Friend Priscilla was privately aware
of her claims to consld Grafton in the
line OF appearance. Never was a
fashionable dame more particular abou!
her most ceremonious toilet than was
this little Quakeress about her every
day apparel. Gay it could not be,
out of regard for both her conscience
and her taste, but exquisitely fine and
soft and even in coloring it always was
As she sat facing the meeting on first
day mornings, and as she talked with
her class in the afternoon first day
school, she was as fair and dainty tc
look upon as piece of Dresden
china.
And Friend Pricila seldom knew q
care. To all appearances her life
flowed on in unruffled serenity. So Il
was a matter for some surprise to the
other members of the meeting that the
little lady had taken to preaching O.
late. The first day morning when she
calmly united her bonnet strings, laic
the bit of plain millinery on the cushion
beside her, arose and stood with hel
gray gloved hands serenely clasped or
the railing in front of her while she
preached clearly and earnestly on the
desrability of preserving the Quaker
traditions and customs, was memor
able one in the community.
The burden of her sermons wa:
always the preservation of the sacred
character of the meetings, and he
homilies carried more weight with th'