St. Johnsbury Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1867-1919, 1895-10-11
md the Miss Pettingills lust grew stiff

hnu Une MISS PettlnglllS Just grew stiff
fer and were more watchful than ever,
for 1T was an awful scandal for such a
thing to have happened in select es-
tabiishment for young ladiesW
1T never would have happened if
they had been less severe with their
pretty niece, said Margaret.
Il suppose not, assented Miss Ma
hala, "but anyway that was the last of
Lois until the winter had gone and the
flowers she loved were all abloom in
the garden. Then, as was sitting here
just about shutdown one night-the 9TH
er girls were out Waikiki, | had been
eXcused-I just heard low sobbing
moan from behind the little gate and
there | saw what | thought was the
ghost Of poor, pretty Lois, and limped
into the house, screaming out what
had seen i'll terrific sort Of way. Miss
Pettlngill up and ran out, all in fut-
ter for once. She opened the gate, and
there it was Lois herself, but, oh, so
weary and wan and changed from the
merry girl she used to be!
ave brought her into the house and
up to her own little room before the
girls came in-for nobody was to know
Of her retum-but somehow it all leak
ed out. And Lois had never been to her
mothers folks at all, but all the while
she had been in neighboring town,
trying to get work to support herself.
But she was too young, and too pretty,
and too alone in the world, and she had
broken down i'll the struggle and had
just been able to crawl home-to die.
at most killed the Miss Pettingills,
and they always felt as if her death was
owing to their hard ways. guess it
was, too, for they were the hard New
England kind, and she waln't, and they
didn't understand They meant well,
but they didn understand. "
There was silence after she had end
ed until Margaret looked up archly.
"RcalIy, Aunt Mahala, you ought to
write a series of Recollections'-and
The Story of Lois would make such a
charming beginning. What "a pity you
did not think of doing it before!"
Nonsense, child !" said Mss Mahala,
with the characteristic Dillingham; toss
Of her head
"But mean it-you really should, s"
persisted Margaret, who liked to tease
her stately aunt. at is a debt you owe
the public. You have no right to hide
your light under a bushel. And it would
be great thing for me to become
known as the grandniece Of the talented
writer, Miss Mahala Dillingham;"
The summer drifted by. The usual
round of visitors from city friends and
relatives came to an end at last, and
Miss Mahala and Margaret were once
more alone together.
One autumn morning, breakfast just
ended, Miss Mahala nervously cleared
her throat. Margaret, she said, "have
you half an hour to give me? have
something to read aloud
Margaret looked on in amazement as
Miss Mahala drew a closely written roll
of manuscript FROM her silk apron $ ca
pacious pocket and smoothed it with
trembling hands.
IL thought a great deal about
what you said, Margaret, " she began,
"and | came to the conclusion that you
might be right, and had no call to hide
my light if the talent for writing had
really been given me, So | began, as
you suggested with The Story Of Lois,
and when that has been published | can
go on and write more Of my 'Recollec-
lions.
Margaret was astonisied at this TN
expected result of her testing words.
But controlling her first hysterical de-
sire to laugh, she composed herself tc
listen to Miss Mahala's first literary eff.
fort, with the respect which was due tc
her years, and which was soon mingled
with genuine surprise
Miss Mahala had told the simple story
in a quaint, old fashioned way, which,
though rambling, was full of uneXpect
ed pathos. With careful revision and
certain necessary corrections the little
story would be quite suitable for publ
cation, for which it was Enthusiastically
designed
Miss Mahala's faded cheeks gloweC
with excitement when she had finished
and she listened with evident delight tC
Margaret S expressions of congratulatior
and surprise
"Then it's all right, she sighed in
relief II was kinder afraid when
came to think, for, you see, l don't
know much about the modern, newfan
gled ways of spelling, and all that, be-
cause in my young days we just began
every noun with a capital. But, after
all, l thought, it's the printers bust
, ness to see to the spelling, so | amt go
ing to worry about it any more, and you
can send it right on for me this morn
ing"
"But, Aunt Mahala, can't won't
you-that is-may I-copy it for you"
"It's copied all right. l only wrote
, on one side of the paper, though tina
I did seem like wicked waste. And
Margaret, am going to send it to The
, Eastern Star-that editor has always
treated you so we'll. And here's the let
ter I've written him. l just told hin
| how | came to write the story, and tha'
/. was your greataunt, so, of course, NJ
, won't expect to treat me like an ordl