The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1894-02-22

! dressed woman among her friends. n
Does she have puffs on her sle/ es
or her shoulders, and big ruffies le
kind that stand out and give wo an
such a magnificent air? Oh! I've Ieen
ladies that looked positively kub-
lime in their big silky sleeves, Nod,
when the dresses are light, GOV ~
with lovely lace; and you see i n
gliding around in n room full of +
ple-oh, they look" and she paIsAa&,,
with a long convulsive sigh, they look
like floating angels!'
There was a silence of profound alb.
sorption for a moment, when she 70.
sumed:
Maybe she stuffs her sleeves with
cotton wadding. Does she? That
gives striking effect"
Mrs Basset's fund of information was
not extensive, and her questioner was
in despair when she only maintained,
stolidly:
Eyes, she is, no doubt, considered to
be a smartly-dressed woman"
81 wonder, now, if she ever wore
Derby collar? Has she gloves and
shoes to match her dresses or to give
a harmonious CONTRAST"
Mrs. Basset had nothing further to
say, and, piling up the handkerchiess--
went from the room, vouchsa6ny ~
grain of comfort. 2
The day after they had seen the doc
tor drive away from the Whhcomb
home, Farmer Basset said:
~ can't stand this way of dong any
longer. If Whitcomb doesn't like it, [
can walk back again across 'ots; but
I'm going over. 1t looks inhuman to
have an old neighbor back home again
and never go near him"
Mrs. Whitcomb learned of his de-
cision, and, with loosely flowing skirt
caught up in one hand and shading her
eyes from the sun with tie other, she
tripped over the path that hai long
been lost in over-growing grasses,
through which the farmer had made
his way only Il few minutes before.
She crossed a wide porch at the back of
the house. assembled fight of narrow
uncarpeted stairs, and advanced on tip
toe down the hall toward a room from
which she heard sounds as of some
one moving. She placed her open
palm lightly against the door, which
was slightly ajar and stood listening.
Farmer Basset It's deep tones were say
ing:
Don't you know who l am? You
haven't forgotten that 10 Basset lives
in this neighbor hood, have you?"
Mrs. Whitcomb pushed the door ever
so little and looked in. Her heart
swelled up within her.
"Oh, my poor dear husband, how
thin h e looks, with that shade over his
woman, I'd go back home where l be-
long"
The accusing tears were streaming
down her face as she looked at the two
men in the dar kened room.
Farmer Basset had put his hand upon
the sick mans chair and the latter had
covered its brown breadth with both
his white ones; his eyes were bandaged
from the light
You. OLE 10 Bassetq"
IE-vrss ~ -, zz=------e------A you n
farmer learns never to lose minutes
sunshine, and yet you come into this
dark hole. You're a splendid fellow,
Jo!'
I'm powerfully glad to see you. You
don't look bad, you know-just a little
rest is all you need" and Basset pro-
ceeded to shake his friends hand
heartily. You've forgotten our quar-
rel, then?"
Our quarrel?" said the other. won
deringly. What quarrel, 10? You
don t mean any of those bubbles we
were always having? | don't seem to
remember" and he turned his unseeing
face upward inquirin gly.
"Oh, you've forgotten it! Now, l tell
you I'm mighty glad of that. might
have known it, seeing that you are
married yourself About my wife
don't you remember, old boy?"
Your wife?" responded the other,
and then beaming smile broke forth
upon his face! Clara? OF course,
remember now. She was a fine
girl, and it did hurt me- spring
chicken that | was when you got in
ahead of me there. Forgotten itr' and
his laugh rang merrily in spite of his
weakness. well, | should say have.
1ou ought to see Mrs. Whitcomb!
would have her here now, but the doc
tor insists on rest for me, and says I'm
in perpetual delirium when Mrs, Whit
comb is by. It's hard medicine-worse
than any in his bottles. Do you Won
der didn't remember our old quarrel?
It's fun, though; I'm glad you reminded
me of it."
Farmer Basset rubbed his hands in
glee; nothing could have delighted him
more than seeing his friend in such
spirits.
Mrs. Whitcomb stood without the
door, the very tears stopped upon .hei
face in the CONSERVATION of the mo-
ment. Mrs. Basset, with her straw
hat shaped like bent scoop-shovel and
its detected trimming, her round
basque with It's buttons down the
'front.', the skirt with its bunch of full.
ness around the waist, the dull thick
shoes-this was the vision that rose in
her mind. This was the woman over
whom she had been grieving! With
trembling step and downcast head she
made her way down the stairs, out into
the open air, and there held council
with her own follies and humiliation.
The next day she sat in the farmers
wagon under the shade of his hiU