The Providence news. (Providence [R.I.]) 1891-1906, 1895-06-13
The WOMAN UP STAIRS,
The Census Woman, tho Woman Down
Stairs, and the Woman Doggy.


Stairs, and the Woman Doggy.
The experiences Jof the State census
gatherers are beginning to crop out into
stories, and pretty good stories they are,
too.
Here is one OF the newest, which Illus
trates that doubts may be held as 10 the
correctness of the census statistics II the
enumerator isn't sometimes as lucky as
he or she must be wise, patient, persist
emit, acute, tactful, impressive, aggressive
and bland.
The enumerator was q woman herself
She had had enough experience al her
task TO have been mistaken for book
agent, sewing machine solicitor,
peddler, q real oil portrait for nothing
and pay ten dollars for the frame can"
vasser and a suppliant for job as house
keeper, before she struck the woman down
stairs. Inwardly she had grown stern
and cold. Outwardly she had cultivated
an expression of rare composure and
more than usual amiability.
The woman downstairs peeped sus-
piciously through the door blind at the
enumerator summing herself on the front
stoop.
"What do you want?" demanded the
woman upstairs.
"Tm the census enumerator."
wv hat do you wantrh
"I want you to answer the questions on
this card?"
~ ain't going to answer no questions.
You Amt got no right TO pry into my
affairs" +"
"You can do as you please, of course,
but il you don't answer them for me, the
insist upon it,"
"Well, what do you want to known"
And the woman downstairs pushed the
blind door open and let the enumerator
get one foot on the threshold.
"rm 81 years DID," said the woman
downstairs. "You needn't look at me-
that way-I know my hair is gray, but it's
prematureiy gray. was 81 last month"
Gam / single or married? Well, like
your impudence. I'm single. Eh? Was
ever married? OF course / was, and
might be again If / chose, too. What
kind of q widow am /? For goodness
sake, how many kinds of widows do you
suppose there are, anyway? Two kinds,
days? Well, never heard of but
one kind. grass widow? No, miss; l
Amt no grass widow. My hus-
band is dead. Pm real
widow. Just put that down right please.
And my age is 81, and I've given you my
name, poor soul. He's dead and gone
now.
Those two young men in there? Oh,
yes. they belong to my family. They are
my sons. No, they are not twins. i
know they look about of one age, but
they're q year apart. Is that all? All
right.
"Yes, there is family up stairs. Just
ring the other bell"
When the census enumerator got up
stairs she found a woman flushed with
mingled indignation and glee. The
woman up stairs had been listening
through the interstices of the banisters at
the talk OF the woman down stairs, and as
sho led the census enumerator into the
best room and shut the door behind her,
she burst out with:
"That woman down stairs told you
pack Of stories. She didn't give you her
right name. She's been 81 years old for
25 years to my certain knowledge. She
isn't real widow. She grass
widow. Her husband couldn't live
with her, nor nobody else could. Those
young men are just the same age and one
of them is her nephew. What's more she's
got female dog in the house and she's
had it for four years and its never been
licensedl"