Staunton spectator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1849-1896, 1894-05-16

tlOn-a newspaper Writer, she SAID he
was.
"When we were first married, we
took little country 'ouse that made
me think of billed dinner, for twas
painted i'll red an green an deep yaller-
jest like that paint you're mixin up now
-carrotty. Then the baby came. -
Her whole voice and manner changed,
and during the rest of the story she
dropped the abrupt witticisms for a
tremulous ca. .3erness
''Did ye know l 'ad a son, MIR. Car
roll?''
NO." l answered, intent on my
work. "Where is he now?''
'E's rich man now, an gentle
man., she s.. d proudly and yet with a
wistfulness that made me glance quick
ly at her face.
If I could only get that expression, l
thought, and went to work with perfect
frenzy on the face.
''How is it that you are not fine
lady then, Maggie?" asked.
''That's what ed make meme, dye
'ear? who's scrubbed floors for 80 year!
But I'd only shame i'm, an folzs'd say,
Dear, dear, an dye know is mother is
q charwomanp An then ED only be
ashamed O. me. No, no, no, I couldn' It
stand that, al tol i'm So.
There was an awkward pause. i'll
which I could think of nothing to say
to the poor thing SO glanced at her COM
passionately and thoughtfully mixed
some sepia on my palette.
eye see, sir, twas this way" Maggie
went on after awhile. ''After Joe died
we 'ad nothin, not ha'penny to buy
bread, so sent the boy to the 'ome for
poor children an began scrubbin floors
1t was ard to let Dick go, but l tried
not to sorrer over it, for l knew
couldn't keep i'm. 1 didn't see i'm for
quite awhile then-not till e was
year, for they wouldn't let visitors in
on Sunday, an I was worbin all the 9TH
er days.
81 went up there with my scrubbin
things an all one night, for I'd jest come
from my work, an e didn't know me,
siri E ran away an i'd when tried to
kiss i'm. Well, after that 1 went up
whenever 1 could get away after my
work was done at night, though 1 was
awfully tired, an e got kinder uster
me an liked to build tents by putin up
my broom an mops an wrappin my
shawl round 'em. E uster call my mop
Doctor cause e said the end was like
Dr. Dicks whiskers. DR.. Dick was the
reg lar doctor at the 'ome, an ed took
shine to my little Dick.
zone day l was washin windows in
an Office on Turner street, an in walks
Dr.. Dick. Well, we 'ad talk, an the
end of it was o took my Dick to fetch
up for is son. 8 was a nice, kind gen.
tleman, an I knew he thought sight
O. Dick, but it was ard for me- for Tad
to promise not to see Dick after e left
the 'ome. But I'd no money to fetch
i'm up Oh, al Dr. Dick d make i'm a
gentleman, al I couldn't stand in the
boys way. ED soon forget me, though
itnearly killed me when thought Of it.
''That must "a been near 30 year ago,
but somethin hurts 'ere," touching her
heart "when think of the day I said
goodby.' -
There was another pause III which
painted furiously.
''What days today? The 18th, isn't t
it? Well, twas just five years ago that
Dick found me out, an l was still scrub
bin I didn't seem to have no art to
get anything better to do after let Dick
60 What was the use?
cdr. Dick was dead an 'ad left my
Dick lots O. money an letter that told
i'm all about nc, so ED come to look
me up an take lie to live with i'm. e
was good, but awful cold an still-like
an wore kid gloves an finer close nor
Joe ever 'ad. But ought not 'er say
that, for e alters is very good to me,
jest as if I was u lady, but you see e
was different, an never could love i'm
like little Dick.
$50 told i'm g must leave me where
1 was, for l couldn't be 'appy in big
'ouse with fine close an would only
shame i'm before folks An old woman
like me! I was too old to change I'd
scrubbed all my life an was goin to
scrub to the end An, said I, 'ye
mustn't come to see me on week days
when I'm worhin either, cause
'twouldn't do no good, an folks d only
wonder
"'E got a little mad at that, but
fancy he was kinder glad way down. I
said e could come on Sundays an we'd
spend that day together if e wanted
to-
$50 now e comes every Sunday an
takes me to church, an rig out in the
fine shawl an bunnit an things e keeps
givin me an try to be like a great rich
lady.
"It's kinder hard sometimes to think
'e's really my boy, for e don't talk like
me or seem to belong to me some 'ow,
but I s'pose it's all right, an 'e's real
fine gentleman, is Dick" she finished,
with pride, which poorly concealed the
aching mother heart beneath.
"Poor Maggie" I said softly under
my breath.
"Why do you say that?" she cried
almost fercely. ST amt sorry bout
anything, an Dicks as good to me as
e can be. Mighty few women's got
such son, I reckonW
After that we neither spoke till the
clock struck 6, and I stepped back to
view my work.
1t was truly the best thing had ever
done, and another hours work would
have finished it, but the light was going
fast, so I began to put away my paints
and brushes, and Maggie gathered up
her things to leave
81 wish there was something could
do for you, said I as slipped coin
into the old womt,u's hard palm. 1 felt
more sympathetic now that my work
was done, and her story seemed to mean
more to me than when was wondering
whether to use gray OF brown for her
faded eyes.
Her face frightened at the words.