The Prince George's enquirer and southern Maryland advertiser. (Upper Marlborough, Md.) 1882-1925, 1896-02-07

capable soul that she was, felt more
keenly the financial smash-up than the
other one, that had forced her into
unbecoming mourning attire, and
when, after sitting out of assets and
liabilities, she found herself with less
than $1,000 to call her own, she de-
termined to put pride in her pocket
and 60 back to the little home on the
edge OF the prairie, from which she
had walked proudly forth a bride
some twenty years before.
When the letter announcing Mrs.
Muggins's intention of taking up her
abode with them reached the two
brothers it created distinctly disa-
greeable sensation. Henry and James
were ''sot in their ways" us the
reighbors would have told you, and
the thought of breaking up the regu-
lar routine of their existence, even for
the sake of their only sister, was a
bitter pill for the two old bachelors to
swallow.
s'Thank goodness, she amt got no
Children exploded Henry, as he
tipped his chair still farther back at
ter having relied his pipe for its final
duty, just SO many pipes being part
of the regulation evening formula.
Eyes, we couldn't abide children, no
how" echoed James, pulling off his
great boots and tossing before the
blaze pair of decidedly ample feet in
woefully holey gray socks.
The light of these foot coverings
evidently furnished Henry with food
for reflection, for after a few minutes
silent putting he remarked: ''P raps it
wouldn't be such a bad idee after all.
Seems if we kinder need a woman to
look after US. Phoebe Jones is all very
well as long as the cookin' goes, but
there's other things-look at yer socks
fer instance. Looks as if they'd been
chawed, an mines jest ez bad. I kin
remember we didn't hev no SIGH look
in rags when ma WIZ alive to look
arter EN-
':No more we didn't. P'raps now,
come to think on it, Mary S
comm might prove a savin'
We kin do away with Phoebe
Jones's help, and she writes she's got
some little money of her own, SO she
won't expect us to give her no clothes
Well let her come, though I s'pose
it'll sorter upset our evenin's. -
'sIm iraid it WILL responded
Henry, :'but then she's our blood re-
lation, an there may be savin' i'll
it,
Thus it was that the Widow Mug
gins received terse, cold letter an
nouncing that she could once again
take up her abode in the house of her
youth. the selfish sentences winding
up with: ''Ef yer had had children we
couldn't have stood it nohow."
Ten years had passed since the day
the little pale faced widow arrived at
the old farm, and as she stood at the
open front door, shading her eyes
with her hands, one could see the
change that the years had brought to
her. The soft brown eyes had in
them the look that comes to those &C
customed to viewing great plains, tc
gazing out and beyond, away off into
another world from which the gazer is
shut by the unvarying tedium of daily
toll. There was wistful hopelessness
in their depths that crept there only
in those brief intervals such p now,
when she waited for the men folks to
come to meals or could dream by the
window of her little room.
II wouldn't care nlurmured Mrs.
Muggins as she entered the kitchen to
place the last dish on the neatly
spread board, eff they would only say
kind word once in while just to
show that they appreciated what I do
for them. The only way to make them
appreciate me would just be to go of
and leave them in the lurch, brit that
would be so mean," she added as ali
afterthought, seeing through her
minds eye the two helpless old men
stranded in the old farm house without
a soul to perform the hundred little
Offices that she was accustomed to
shonldering.
''Pa'son High druv by the lower
medder this mornin an he says as how
Phoebe Jones is terrible bad with
fever" said Henry as the two sat down
to the bountifully spread table, for
though the brothers were economical
to the verge of miserliness in other
matters they never stinted their stom-
achs, though they never would have
forgiven Mary if she had ever ven
tured to give so much as stale bis
cunt to a tramp or any of the poor
families living in the vicinity.
"How long has she been sick?'
queried Mrs. Muggins, as she passed
the speaker fragrant cup of tea,
which he at once proceeded to turn
into his saucer before appearing to
notice the question.
Nigh onto ten days he replied,
after the first gulp.