Sullivan republican. [volume] (Laporte, Pa.) 1883-1896, 1894-05-11

ISlI MM[N ing, oracularly,
FO "Ingratitude is the
crying sin of the age |"
The crying sin of the age was NOV
able quantity with Miss Cynthia Last
week, when.the butchers boy had un-
Intentionally given her the wrong
change, it had been dishonesty; and
the week before, when n child had
timidly walked into the little mil
linery shop and begged few snip
pings of velvet for her dolly, 1t had
been boldness. On all other occasions
it was whatever happened to cross
Miss Cynthia's fixed ideas of the fit
ness of things.
Miss Timbrook gave little sigh,
and returned to the bonnet she was
trimming. AS she tried to fasten
pink rose in what she hoped was n
pertly correct fashion against some
very green bows, she said, with great
effort at cheerfulness.
"Pink an green is fit for the
queen"
"Humph !" said Mics Cynthia, acorn-
fully,
Miss Cynthia was Miss Timbrook's
old-time friend, companion and assist
ant, and was the spice of her placid
life
"Sybilla Tim, you amaze me ~ de
clared Miss Cynthia, sternly. ''Why
don't YOU show some spirit? Tell that
girl to pause before it's too late. Re-
mind her how you've brought her up,
and even high-schooled her there in
New York for three mortal years,
boarding her out afterward to high
priced woman on account of her bein'
one of them highty-tity milliners, so
as to have her pick up idees, and you
all the time hoping that when twas
all over she'd come back here and be
the prop of your old age and build up
the business.
Miss Cynthia stopped only long
enough to draw full breath and then
went on again:
"And it's time twas built up. Look
at them bonnets, Sybilla Tim.
Miss Timbfook looked as she was
told, and beheld four bonnets perched
upon frames in the little shop window.
They dropped dejectedly, and seemed
to shrink from the gaze of the passers-
by. And well they might.
Miss Timbrook quailed visibly at
the sight of her own handiwork,
II know it, Cynthy," she said,
apologetically. ''They aren't just
what they ought to be. They're old
style, like ourselves, And / know the
trades failing. But dearly as I love
to fuss with the ribbons and the arti-
ficials, I'll shut up the shop before I'll
say word to hinder Ruthy from fol-
lowing her own bent"
''Fudgel" said Miss Cynthia, sharp
ly. "She feels drawing-ai that
what the letter saysP-to be nm artist
And now that some of her pas kin has
left her legacy, she thinks that in
stead of coming home for good, she'll
just make US little visit, and then go
back to New York and study what she
calls art. She thinks it's more uplift-
ing than making bonnets. Land /
don't like making bonnets myself, but
l don't intend being drawn away from
my 'lotted duty by something that
looks more alluring. She says it's an
opening TO higher life Fudge I
say"
Speaking of openings, ventured
Miss Timbrook, timidly, "theres that
Boston woman that's just set up a fine
shop on Plum street. They tell me
she's sent out cards to announce her
spring millinery opening, and is going
to serve tea to folks; she really is.
Suppose we have an opening. Cynthy?"
At this rash suggestion, Miss
Cynthia burst out, ''Are you crazy,
Sybilla Tim? And what, for the
lands sake, would you openY"
Giving scathing glance at the four
limp bonnets in the window and be-
slowing final glare on her friend,
Miss Synthia founced out of tho room.
Miss Cynthia might storm and scold,
but she only used her temper to cloak
the sympathy and love which she was
ashamed to show. Ruthy's unexpected
desertion was bitter disappointment
to her, first on account of the sorrow
of her friend, Sybilla, and secondly on
her own ccount.
Bonnets TO her did not represent
any form of the ideal, as they did to
good Miss Timbrook, but ms she had
said to herself over and over again
through the long winter, "Since it
must be bonnets, I'd like 'em TO be
tasty, such ms Ruth'll know how to
fix" And now Ruthy wasn't coming
When Miss Timbrook's niece really
did come for her little visit, it seemed
TO the two ol fashioned, unsuccesa.
ful women that all the world must