The Somerset herald. [volume] (Somerset, Pa.) 1870-1936, 1895-11-20
OUR BEST CUSTOMER.

| OUR BEST CUSTOMER.
"How well / remember the day our
best customer first came into the tiny
shop where / sold pins and needles and
motions" of every kind, to support my
self and my dear mother, who was par
alyzed and almost helpless. She could
use her hands, but her feet were 20
stiff and heavy that she could scarcely
hobble, with my help, to the chair from
the bed, or back again.
1.-The profits of the business were
small, and my brother Frank, who had
been studying medicine before father
died, earned only small pittance; and
so we struggled on starving ourselves
to keep out of debt, and perpetually
tugging at the ''endsr that would not
meet. As soon as mother was able to
sit up in an arm chair, she began TO
knit for the store pretty infant socks,
| tides, trimmings of various kinds, and
all sorts of pretty fancy articles, and it
was pincushion top that attracted
Miss Mitchell.
"She came into the store one winters
day, when | had been crying softly be-
hind the counter, and it was as if the
sunlight had streamed into the place,
with our best customer.
Her face was indescribably lovely,
with the most beautiful dark eyes 1
! ever saw, and | caught the glance of
compassion that rested on my tear
swollen face, and softened her own to
such tender sweetness as | had never
before seen. She made no comment,
asked no questions, but one quick
glance about the store seemed to tell
her the whole pitiful story of poverty
and struggle. She bought the pincush-
ion top and ordered two more, only, as
they were to be finer, larger and more
trouble, she would expect to pay dou-
BILE.
''0nly few dollars were needed to
make up the months rent, but il was
the apparent impossibility of having
them ready the next day that caused
my tears. My new customer bought
tape, buttons, ribbons, pins, cotton
everything her quick, bright eyes rest
ed upon, until a formidable pile was
heaped upon the counter.
"'If you will let these things stay
here for an hour or two,' she said, Il
will call again for them. Mamma is
at the dressmaker's on the next street
and | was passing to make purchase
at the drug store on the corner, when |
saw this exquisite piece of knitting.
How can you manage such fine cotton?
al told her then about mother, and
her soft, dark eyes were full of sympa-
thy as she listened. An hour or two
later handsome carriage drove up to
the door, and she called for her pur-
chases.
''In a few days she came again, buy
ing as before freely, and leaving an
other order for knitting so that my
spare moments were filled, too, with
work Little by little she became
friendly and she made an excuse to see
mother by ordering some work for
which she wished to leave special di-
rections. After that she always ran
upstairs for few moments TO brighten
the day for mother.
1--WE knew very little about her ex-
cept her name; but with all her bright
sweetness, her apparently large wealth,
i was sure she had some sorrows i'm her
life. Ii was not natural for one so
bright and young to be so sympathetic
unless she had some grief or anxity
herself.
''In a long year that she was our best
customer | learned TO love her as |
loved no one else but my mother and
brother. 1t was winter weather again,
when one evening, as. i was closing the
shop, a little figure, in a close, dark
ulster, crept in. Shivering with cold
or distress, she sat down upon the one
stool the shop boasted, and lifting
brown veil, showed me the face of our
best customer, white as death, the great
brown eyes dilated with some sorrow
too deep for tears, the sweet, sensitive
mouth quiyering.
miss Donaldson, she whispered,
twill you hide me for the night. Will
you let me stay here?"
Gladly" L said. "But, oh, my
dear, what is il ~
"I was only few years Older than
herself, but in her distress she seemed
such a child that could not resist the
temptation to take her i'm my arms,
kiss her, and try in my poor way to
comfort her. And when the tears
came and she sobbed and clung to me
as child to her mother, was sure the
crying helped her poor, sore heart, and
did not try to cheek it.
"Mother was asleep, and / made
bed on wide lounge in our little sit
ting room for Miss Mitchell. Before
she lay down she said to me:
"'I have left my home, and cannot
return. Will you shelter me aud hide
me for few days until / can find
some employment by which to earn my
bread? And will you do this asking
no questions, but believing me when L
tell you | have done nothing wrong,
nothing that would make your mother
deny me the friendship of her child ?"
Very solemnly, even as she spoke
made aswer.
"sWhile 1 have a roof or crust, /
will share them with you as with a
dearly loved sister,
"And no sister could have been more
to me than Nettie Mitchell became as
the days passed that followed that win
| ter evening. She had some money, and