News and citizen. [volume] (Morrisville, Vt. ;) 1881-current, 1896-12-17
THREADS Or FATE.
By MARTHA MOULLOOH WILLIAMS.
Copyright, 1896, by the Author. |

Aunt Clarissy Hughes held her step
sons brand new 'store breeches" be-
tween her and the light and looked crit
icaIly at their fat firm seams and their
general excellence of finish. Stephen
bought them Saturday, wore them to
Asbury meeting Sunday, folded them
with incest care and laid them away in
his drawer against the bran dance. 1t
was to come off Friday at the Sulphur
Spring. This was Monday morning.
Since day he had been afield with
the negroes. Now it was 10 o'clock.
His stepmother felt i'll each pocket of
the garment, scratched her head with a
needle from the knitting she had just
laid down, pinched the cloth reflective
1y, sighed and repeated plaintively: "It
do seem like pity, but Melony's his
own aunt, and it won't do to make her
mad. Lemme seel What does she say?"
With that she unfolded crumpled
strip of paper, evidently torn from an
old letter, and read for the fifth time:
DEAR SISTER CLARIssY-Please loand me the
patrons of Stephens new breeches Them my
William MChenGTee seen on MIN at ASDury
meetin house yesterday. He say he must have
"a pair like them and his Ia have gone to town
after the cloth No more at present. Your
affectionate sister, MELONY TAYLOR
Aunt Clarissy laid it down with an
other sigh, then stepped to the back
door and called shrillv, "Reuben!" A
small black boy in white cotton shirt
and trousers popped out of the kitchen
door and half strangled himself trying
to say ''Ma ami" with his mouth full
of watermelon. Aunt Clarissy looked at
him half minute, then said apollo
getically: you'll have to wait awhile,
Reuben. When you git done eating, go
round to the horse block, git your mule
and put him in the stable. Be sure you
give him plenty to eat. Then you play
about till [ call you, but don't you go
near the parster. The bull is loose to-
day, and don't you git hurt anywhere,
adding, apparently to the air, "Brother
Dan'l thinks as much Of his niggers as
he does Of William McKendree. If any
thing happened to one of 'em here, l
reckon he'd turn Squire Hughes right
out Of the Asbury church. " Then after
little undecided pause she called,
"Jane are you busy?"
"Yes'm; shellin peas" came in a
thick, throaty voice from the Kitchens
gloomy depths.
"Where's ANN"
"Here, but she's got er powerful mis-
cry in de spine Of her back. "
Dear me alive! Tell her to go home
and let me send her a mustard plaster
to put on it. What is Laura doing?"
"Ain't dis waush day! You oughter
know she done gone ter de creek wild
Nanny and Lou"
"Well, declare! She had no bust
ness to go. | mean to tell Stephen to
put her i'll the field for it. Where are
Rachel and Silvy?"
An inarticulate smother of con-
temptuous laughter preceded the reply.
"Rache is er projickin somewhars-
arter blackberries, spect l done sent
silvy down ter de big bottom arter
roas'in ears. De gyarden corn is all
gone, and de boys tells me de's er Gods
plenty on 'em down in dat forrard
feel.
eyes, and Stephen said that wasn't
to be touched, he sent way off for the
seed-you know he did. I'll tell him
just as soon as he comes to dinner
A mountain of dark flesh covered with
white Osnabur rolled into the doorway
and said with broad, judicial gravity {:
Miss Clarissy, you SO er church men,
Der. Eff I was you, wouldn' t say things
what l knowed l wasn't gwine do.
Whut's de matter? How come you
wantin ever body all ter once?'
Aunt Clarissy got pink to the tips of
her ears. She was small, apologetic
looking woman, with mild black eyes
set deep in a white, wrinkled face, al
together striking contrast to the stur-
dy figure that fronted her across 20
yards of sunlit space. Steadying herself
on the doorpost and half turning about,
she said peevishly: "No, I won't tell
him. hate a fuss, and you all know
it and impose on me. 1 just wanted
somebody to help me, but reckon l can
do the work myself"
"Dat'll be de shorest way" Jane
said, nodding her blue turban. Then
relenting, she added as she disappeared
within, "I'll send Silvy DIES soon as she
fetches de corn and shucks it for de
pot"
Aunt Clarissy heard nothing of the
postulate. Brooches and scissors in
hand, she was making her way to the
company bedroom, where Stephen never
set foot. Sitting down by the north
window, she began carefully to rip
apart one leg of the fated garment,
murmuring to herself as she did it, II
know most Stephen won't like it, but
Melony wants the patron, and how else
can she get it?''
An hour before shutdown Reuben and
his mule were trotting home. The rider
sat perched on big bag of watermelons
and gripped with his right hand roll
of cut newspaper tied about with blue
yarn string.
About the same hour next day Aunt
Clarissy was saying to Silvy: "There
isn't so very much to do, Silvy. I've
fixed the pocket and the front piece and
sewed on the buttons. The leg is all
basted up, and be sure you sew it before
Friday
"Yessum, will, said Silvy, adding
as her mistress walked away, "but I'll
take my pledgur time bout doin it, sho'
es I'm er niger T"