The L'Anse sentinel. (L'Anse, L.S., Mich.) 18??-current, 1896-05-16
AMANDA TODD.
ny MARY n. WILKINS


born, brought up and will die in this vii
lage, but there is no doubt that IL n
eccentric. She moves apart ON her own
little course quite separate from the
rest Of US.
Had Amanda's lines Of life been cast
elsewhere, where circumstances had
pushed her, instead of hemming her In,
she might have become the feminine
apostle Of new creed, have founded
u sect or instituted new system OF fe-
male dress. AS It is, she does not go to
meeting, she never wears a bonnet and
she keeps cats.
Amanda Todd is 60, and she never was
married. Had she been, the close fric-
ton with another nature might haze
worn away some of the peculiarities Of
hers She might have gone to meeting,
she might have worn n bonnet, she
might even have eschewed cats, but il
is not probable. When peculiarities
ore in the grain of q persons nature, rs
they probably are in hers, such friction
only brings them out more plainly,
and 1t is the other person who suffers.
The village men are not, as rule very
subtle, but they have seemed to feel
this instinctively. Amanda was, they
say, very pretty girl in her youth, but
no young man ever dared make love to
her and marry her. She had always the
reputation Of being "an odd stick"
even In the district school. She al
ways kept by herself at recess, she never
seemed to have anything in common
with the other girls and she always
went home alone from singing school.
Probably never in her whole life has
Amanda Todd known what it is to
be protected by some devoted person of
the other sex through the mighty perils
of our village street
There is tradition in the village that
once in her life, when she was about 2j
years old, Amanda Todd had beau
tiful bonnet and went to meeting.
'AOld Mrs. Nathan Morse vouches for
the reliability of it, and, moreover, she
hints at a reason. "When Mandy, she
was bout 25 years DID," she says,
George Henry French, he come to
town, and taught the district school,
and ho see Mandy, an told Almira Ben
t9p>that he thought she was about the
prettiest girl he ever laid eyes on, and
Almiry, she told Mandy. That was Ill
there ever was to it, he never waited on
her, never spoke to her, fur's know,
but right after that, Mandy, she had
bunnit, and she went g'lar to meetin'.
Fore that her mother could scarcely
get her to keep n thing on her head
out of doors-allers carried her sunbun-
nit a-danelin' by the strings, wonder
she wasn't sunstruck n million times
and as for goin' to meetin', her mother,
she talked and talked, but it didn't do
n mite of good. Is'pose her father kind
Of upheld her in 1t. He was most as
in unless he was driv, and he want
member. 'Nough sight ruther go out
prowlin' round in the woods like a wild
animal, Sabbath days, than go to meet
in. Once he ketched wildcat, an
tried to tame 1t, but he couldn't. 1t bit
and chewed so he had to let it go.
guess Mandy gets her liking for cats
from him fast enough. Well, Mandy,
she had that handsome bunnit, and she
went to meetin' regular most year,
and she looked as pretty as u picture
sittin' in the pew. The bunnit was
trimmed with green gauze ribbon and
had wreath Of fine pink flowers inside.
Her mother was real tickled, thought
Mandy had met with n change. But
land, it didn't last no time. George
Henry French, he quit town the next
year and went to Somerset to teach,
and pretty soon we heard he he'd mar
ried girl over there. Then Mandy,
she didn't come to meetin' any more.
1 dunno what she did with the bunnit
on it, most likely, she al
ways had consider BILE temper-anyway,
never see her wear it afterwards"
Thus old Mrs. Nathan Morse tells the
story, and somehow to a reflective mind
the picture Of Amanda Todd in her
youth declled in her pink-wreathed
bonnet, selfishly but innocently attend
ing in the sanctuary of divine love in
order to lay hands on her own little
share Of earthly affection, is insepara-
BILE from her, as she goes now, old and
bare-headed, defiantly past the meet
ing house, when the Sabbath bells are
ringing. '
However, If Amanda Todd had elected
to go bareheaded through the village
street from feminine vanity, rather
than eccentricity, it would have been
no wonder. Not young girl in the vii.
lage has such head of hair as Amanda.
1t is Of n beautiful chestnut color, and
there is not a gray thread in it. 1t is
full Of wonderful natural ripples, too
not one of the village girls can equal
them with her papers and crimping
pins-and Amanda arranges it in two
superb braids wound twice around her
,hcad. Seen from behind, Amanda's
head is that Of a young beauty; when
it turns little, and her harsh old pro-
file becomes visible, there is a shock to
the stranger.
Amanda's father had n great shock
of chestnut hair, which was seldom cut,
and she inherits this adornment from
him. He lived to be an old man, but
that ruddy crown of his never turned