Edgefield advertiser. [volume] (Edgefield, S.C.) 1836-current, 1895-05-29

Inc urSG FiOlctS ulWuyS uiluS Bool
luck with them," she whispered tc
herself, as she pinned them into ths
bosom of her blue flannel gown.
'tHome" was scarcely the ideal re-
alization OF that poetic word to thi:
factory girl. She and her mother
lived in the upper half Of shabby,
unpainted wooden house, with the
blacksmith's scoldipg wife and sever
riotous children down stairs, and one
half of o trampled-down back yard BY
way of garden, where nothing ever
grew but burdocks, nettles and Mrs.
Muggs's long-legyed fowls.
But Mrs. Miller, who hal been G
school teacher once, and still retained
somewhat of the refinement of he1
carly education, had the tea ready,
with O shaded lamp and o bunch o
maple blossoms on tho table ready
for Mary to come home.
"Good news, mother!" the cir
cried, lightly. "The Meadow Farm i:
to let Mother, we must take it.
Mrs. Miller looked obviously a
the bright, eager face, with its blue
gray eyes and fringes of yellow hair
'Can we afford it, daughter?" she
said, slowly. ga whole house and
farm of forty. three acres?'
cit isn't such very large house,
mother" pleaded Mary, as she laid
the bunch of violets in her mother:
lap-"not so many more rooms thar
we have here. And we could keep two
COWS, and could sell milk and but
ter, and spring chickens and eggs
and I am almost suro that Will Da'
vidge would work the farm on shares
And only think, mother: Eow delight
full it would be to o-have home all tc
ourselves, where we couldn't heal
Mrs. Mugs boxing Bobby's ears OF
-Ielen shrieking with the toothache
And little garden, mother, where We
could have peonies and holyhocks
and all those lovely old-fashioned flow
ers that you soul delights in"
Mrs. Miller's pale, mild face soft
ened.
'.1tisnowa month since old Mrs Dab
ney died." said Mary. "And they say
that her daughter in the city and her sor
out in California despise the old farm,
with its one-story house and its old
red barn. So it is to let. And SC
cheap, tool Only hundred and fifty
dollars yearl Mother, We must take
it! I'll leave the factory and turn
dairy maid. I've saved enough you
know, to buy the two COWS and some
real Plymouth Rock fowls to begin
with, and oh, it will be snch happi-
ness! Say yes, mother-do say yes"
When Mary Miller pleaded like
this, the gentle widow never knew how
to refuse; and the upshot of it was
that they leased the old Dabney house,
and became co-sovereigns of the realm
of Meadow Farm.
1t was their first night there. Over
head the young May moon shone
through veil of purple mist. A soli
tary owl hooted in the chestnut wood
back of the house, for Meadow Farm
was situated on O lionel y mountain
siGe where no one ever came except OF
special business.
The Plymouth Rock chickens were
ssfely shut up where foxes could not
reash them nor minks steal in to bleed
their young lives away, the cows two
fine young Alllerneys-were chewing
their cud back of the old red barn,
and Mary Miller had flung q handful
of cedar sticks on the hearth, where
their scented blaze illuminated the
old kitchen with o leaping brightness
beautiful to see.
s'Because it's just possible the house
may be Damp" she said, "after being
uninhabited 80 long. There, mother,
isn't that cheerfulP And isn't it rice
that our old rag carpet should chance
to fit this floor so exactly?" with
satisfied downward glance. "And dc
you see those tiger.lilies? I fount
them down by the garden wall-oh.
such red wilderness OF them? Old
Mrs. Dabney set them out herself,
they say. 1t seems only yesterday,
sho added, thoughtfully, that I came
past here and saw old Mrs. Dabney
sitting in the big chair by the fire
just where
Mrs. Miller uttered little shrek
and graspcd her daughters arm a
this moment. Mary stopped short
with IN eshY psllor overspreaking hel
check.
For as she spoke the door opposite
had opened and very little old wo
man, silver haired and shrievled like {
mummy, came in, and walking across
tho floor seated herself in Mrs. Dab
ney's very corner-an old woman
dressed in a snuff-colorsd gown which
Mrs. Dabney had always worn. ane
wearing q snuff-silk cap, while q bae
depended from her arm.
its cold, ladies'" she said, look
ing around with n depreciating air
"coll for the season of tho year an.
they don't keep fires at Tewkstown.
''Mothe1," said Mary, recovering
herself with o hystcrical gasp of relief
sit isn't old Mrs. Dabney's ghost a
all. It's old Miss Abby, come bacl
from the Tewkstown Poorhouse.
"You don't mean" began the mil'
widow.
"That Mrs. Daniel Dabney and Mrs
EYerard Elberson let their old aun
20 to the poorhouse?" said Mary Mil
Ter. eyes, it is quite true. Mrs
Daniel leads society in San Francisco
nm told, md Mrs. Elberson is
grand lady in Bridgeport, with re
ception day and servants in livery
What could they do with G half Graz
oil aunt, who takes snuff and talk
uncertain grammer? Poor Mrs Abby