The Somerset herald. [volume] (Somerset, Pa.) 1870-1936, 1896-10-07
A PONGEE HANDKERCHIEF.

Bargains, eh ?n said Mrs. Pix
ington. ''Guess I'll look at 'em."
OF all things, Mrs. Pilkington wa.
least able TO resist a bargain.
The old Pilkington farm house a
home was crammed full of ''bar
gains" possible and impossible. The
bureau drawers overiiowed with "bar-
gains" which were of no use to any
one; the trunks were packed full of
bargains.
And here, on the crowded curb
stones of Grand street, the swinging
pasteboard sign of "Great Bargains
Within - attracted her attention, hur
ried though she was with the mani.
fold errands which yet remained in
complete.
She had lot of damaged table liner
under her arm, and some cheap hosiery
in her bag, and dozen towels with mis-
printed borders in her pocket, and hert
she was erowding into the Grand stree
store 10 buy a blue spotted PONCE,
handkerchief for Is cents.
'It'll do for Sara Janetta to wa'al
around her neck of cool evenin', ,
said Mrs. Pilkington, ''and Is cents j:
really cheap for a real pongee."
Mrs. Pilkington lived in a little
brown rooted farm house on the Housa
tonic river, and her main errand up to
town had been to buy a ''store carpet
for her bedroom floor, and to exchange
an old sewing machine for something
of a newer order.
Her cousin, Mrs. Bruce Babbitt, who
had spent the summer months at the
farm, and made the most possible
trouble for the least possible pay,
had also engaged TO hunt her up a
'help" from the nearest intelligence
Office, and have the same on hand
when the "five-four train" left the
Grand Central depot that afternoon.
And sure enough, when the lady
from the country arrived, red and
painting, at the depot, with disheveled
hair, bent bonnet and shawl dragged
all awry, a modest young girl stood at
the door with card bearing the name
of Mrs. Bruce Babbitt in her hand.
''Is it Mrs. Pilkington ?p said she.
"You amt the new sewing machine,
be you ?r said Mrs. Pilkington, rub
bing her nose with a puzzled air, "Nor
yet the IS yards of carpet from Stoney-
bridge & Bounce's."
81 am Phoebe, said the young wo-
man-"Phebe, at nine dollars a month,
if | am lucky enough TO suit you,
ma'am."
She was pretty, blue eyed lass, with
a fresh complexion, and a neat gown
of green and white seer-sucker, and she
wore a bonnet of her own trimming,
with a cluster of butter-cup5 on the
side.
Mrs. Pilkington looked obviously at
her. She had prepared herself to ex-
pect stout, red-handed drudge.
1t did not seem possible that this
delicate little apple blossom of girl
could be a servant-of-all-work.
But there, sure enough, were her
credentials, and the bell, even then,
vas changing for the closing of the
gates.
"Come on r said Mrs. Pilkington,
and she rushed through, dragging
Phoebe after her. ''It's strange though,
that the carpet and sewing machine
amt here"
"Did you expect carpet and sewing
machine, mann ~ Phdsoe asked re-
spectfully.
"I bought 'em and paid for 'em,"
said Mrs. Pilkingtor impressively,
''and don't see why they amt here"
perhaps they will be sent by ex-
press" suggested Phoebe.
AZ declare to goodness, ! never
thought of that ~ said Mrs. Pilking-
ton.
And she skurried throughthe crowd
ed car TO find a seat. 1t was the dusk
of chilly May evening when they
reached Blackbird's Hollow, and alight-
ed in the midst of dense pines and
signing tamaraeks.
''If Pilkington hain't remembered to
come and meet us | shall be mad ~
said Mrs. Pilkington, stretching her
neck forward the better TO survey the
curves of the road. "And
is always forgetting. My
goodness, gracious me, what's that?
as Phoebe stopped to recover something
which she had inadvertently let fall.
''My handkerchief, ma'am."
Mrs. Pilkington made a grasp at
it.
"Your handkerchief?' she scream
ed. milne you mean-minx thief
good-for- nothing my pongee hand
kerchief, that you have stolen right
out of my bag Well, l never ~
She shook Phoebe vehemently.
Phoebe began to cry in mingled terror
and resentment, and just then up drove
the farm wagon at gallop.
"Hello, motherF' said Ezra Pix
ington's cheerful voice. 'rm afraid
I've kept you waiting bit, but the
linchpin came out of the wheel and /
had to stop at Tom Deephill's to get il
fixed. Now, then ~
He drove the stout pony close to the
raised platform, which extended away
from the station.
Mrs. Pilkington pushed Phoebe into
the back seat and followed her with
lightning haste.
mot that wayr' she cried, grasp
ing at the reins, and Ezra would have
them headed for the highroad. "Drive
straight to Squire Pulteney's. This
gals thief I'm going to have her
arrested before she's day olderv'
''Eh ~ said Ezra, staring from bis
mother to Phoebe, and then back
again.
'She's stole my spotted pongee hand
kerchief - my handkerchief that !
bought at bargain on Grand street
this very morningr' shrieked Mrs.
Pilkington.
''Its-it's my handkerchief, faltered
poor Poebe, feeling as if she were in q
tarrihla NIGHTMARE from which there