Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1896-07-24

dreary than any she had ever known at
home, and her going was to the mother
like going out of the world. The son-in-
law was undesirable in various ways; but
Aunt Lois when questioned said serenely,
"Susan likes him, and she's the one that's
got him to live with; so Z she can put up
with his ways it isn't for me to complain.
1t doesn't become me to be talking about
their affairs. Most children marry away
from their home, and why should l be
treated different from other folks?"
Mother-confessor was Aunt Lois to half
the village, but never did anointed priest
guard more sacredly the secrets of the con-
fessional than she. No engagement, how
eyer unsuitable, however queer, could sur
prise her. for had she not stood sponsor to
the fancy in its callow infancy, long before
il hardened into fact, and attended the
shrinking victim through the long course
of chils and fever preceding the consum-
nation? All heart-aches and back-aches
and finger-aches went TO Aunt Lois for
consolation, and the least of them never
went in vain. She knew the hidden virtues
of all simples, and her head carried an end
less chain procession Of recipes of all sorts,
from winemaking TO roOt-beer, and from
raspberry shrub to catnip tea. Measles and
chicken-pox, mumps and whOoping cough
lost their terrors when Aunt Lois appeared
confident and CHEEKY, 10 charm away cross
ness and fidgets with stories of when she
was a little girl. A plain and homey
enough little-girlhood, but one that made
the utmost of everything, and saw more
possibilities in sand-heap than modern
children find in a fully equipped dollhouse
The rockingham creaked contentedly
as she crooned tired baby to sleep, her
own calmness going out to the rasped
nerves and setting them in order and har-
mony. All night long she could watch
with the sick without a wink of sleep, and
no one could persuade her to so interfere
with the order of nature as TO rest by day.
Work was her panacea; a dash of cold
water outside, a cup Of weak hot tea for
refreshment, and her day was well begun.
She took no sugar in her tea nor butter on
her bread, because these luxuries were not
| afforded at home, and she could not be
persuaded to pamper herself elsewhere.
At spring cleanings she could take down
a sooty stove-pipe tidily and set its perverse
| joints together again with an unrufiled
| spirit. She could make wedding-cake or
clean a cellar, scrub kitchen floors, or do
up laces as if she had been the proverbial
angel called from governing kingdom TO
| sweep a street-crossing
Gentle, refined in thought and speech,
with low voice, quiet step, a comfort
| ing presence, heart that held no sugges-
ton of wrong, nature of utmost charity
which believed no fleeing gossip, Aunt
Lois saw deep beneath the surface to the
honest heart of things, but could never rec
| ognize any faults but her own.
Hating sin, she loved the sorIy sinner,
and could find ready excuse for any fault
or incompetency outside her own door.
From the very slenderest store she gave so
| graciously that the gift itself seemed great,
whatever it might be-a marigold growing
| by her doorstep, plump head of fennel
or dill, root Of sweet cicely, a handful
of checkerberries or wild strawberries in
their season, few radishes from her gar
| den-bed; a stick of candy, perhaps, to a
child-the saved-up gift of some lover of
her own among the children-or bits of
silk to make little girls eyes shine, bright
| fragments treasured from some wedding
| trousseau of the past.
The world was poorer when she went out
of it, to meet her Amy, we trust; to sit
resting in the heavenly place with folded
hands, perhaps, and spotless kerchief-for
we can only think of her humanely-min-
istered unto at last, but with the bright
hope shining in her clear eyes of minister
ing in turn, after earth's ninety years of
tiredness was past.-Aiyn Yates Keith in
| the Nelc York Erening Post.