The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1896-08-19

Her words proved correct. Miss
Abby suffered herself to be led unre-
monstratingly back to Tewkstown poor
house, where the matron read her
shrill-voiced lecture, and declared she
should not be allowed another grain of
snuff if she couldn't behave better.
Old Miss Abby smiled deprecatingly.
"They are peculiar people here" she
said. 81 think, my DEAR" to Mary
Miller, they forget sometimes that
am lady. But it takes all sorts, don't
you see, to make world?"
The next night, however, just as
Mary and her mother were sitting down
to tea Miss Abby once more appeared,
in the midst of gentle shower of rain.
81 hope l don't inconvenience any
body" she said meekly, "but that
woman at Tewkstown has cut off my
allowance of snuff, and, after all,
there's no place like home"
Once more Mary Miller walked pa
tiently back with the old crone to the
poorhouse. The matron was Infatuated
this time.
:" 1t amt in human natur to stand
this" she declared. sill put her in
the Jug"
"The Jug" repeated Mary, in sur
prise.
ITS room down cellar, where we
shut up the troublesome cases." said
the matron. "I can't stand this run
ming away business, and 1 won't"
The jug, perhaps, proved efficacious,
for old Miss Abby Dabney did not APP
pear again for week. At the expira-
ton of that period, however, she crept
noiselessly in, just at dark, and seated
herself like a silent shadow in the Chin
ney corner. =.
at is go good to be at home again."
said she, rubbing her wrinkled hands.
I" / somehow seem to get lost of late.
Elnathan is gone and Betsey is gone,
and am left here all alone. Yes, cup
of tea, please-sugar and no milk.
They never remember how l like my
tea at Tewkstown. This is good Z; and
butter on my bread, too We don't get
butter at Tewkstown.'
Mary burst into tears.
Mother" said she, Miss Abby
shall not 60 back to Tewkstown-she
shall stay here. Mother, how should l
feel if you were wandering friendless
and alone through the wortd?"
"But, my dear"
"She shall sleep in her own old room,
cut of the Kitchen" persisted Mary.
"She'll be no more care than canary
bird. Oh, mother, do consent! She
home. Oh, if you knew how dreary it
is at that old poorhouse, with the grass
all trampled out and piles of clam
shells lying around the door, and not
so much as dandelion or daisy to be
seenl"
Mrs. Miller yielded to Mary's fearful
solicitations. "Do as you please, my
child" said she.
The Tewkstown authorities were but
too glad to be rid of the poor old incu-
bus, and Miss Abby Dabney settled
down into her old home, as contentediy
and unquestioningly as if she had
never left it. She ate and drank but
little, talked still less, and seemed to
regard Mrs. Miller and Mary as guests
who had come to visit the old farm.
"The widow Miller and her darter
must be rich folks to undertake to sup
port old Miss Abby" sneered one
neighbor.
at the poorhouse," said another.
60 never yet saw farm succeed
that was worked by women folks"
jeered third.
"There'll be the biggest kind of a
smash-up presently" observed number
four, "and an auction sale of every
thing; and III be on hand-for don't
deny that them little Attorney COWS is
the cunninest creeturs l ever set
eyes on, and good mixers into the bar
gain"
But time wore on and there was no
autter of any red flag over the porch.
On the contrary, matters throve, and
Mary Miller declared joyously that
farming was great deal more profit
able business than working in the fac
tory, and she only wished that she had
found it out before.
One gray autumnal evening Mary
and her mother came back from brisk
walk to the village and found stall
wart, sun-browned man sitting opposite
to Miss Abby, by the red glow of the
fire.
The old woman rose up in an odd
uncertain way.
| Laulos, eue shlu, lumDllng III mel
old snuff-boX, "this is my nephew
Cyrus Dabney-he as ran away from
home twenty-nine years ago come
Michaelmas day, and we all supposed
dead. Cyrus, these are the ladies who
are so good as to visit me here. dom
quite recollect their names; but then
my memory amt quite so good as il
used to be; and, after all, it don't mat
ter much. Nothing matters much now
adaysl"
And Miss Abby sat down and fel
into " daze again, as if all necessity
for conversational efforts was over.
Cyrus Dabney stood up-a bronzed
bearded giant, with dark eyes and gu
perb stature.
Ladies, / beg your pardon!" h
said. "But l supposed when l cam
here was coming home. i knew moth
ing of all these changes. l never coul'
have dreamed that my cousins woul
let this poor old creature go 10th
town poorhouse. l don't know witt
you are, ladies'" with husky rattle il
| His throat ~ hut I thank VOu from III