Freeland tribune. (Freeland, Pa.) 1888-1921, 1897-03-15
THE BIG ARMCHAIR.



But We couldn't agree, me and Brick
EFT. SO we separated.
"Dear me!' said Mrs. Marrowfut.
at was all about Grandfather
Gums big armchair" said Mrs.
Brickett, stitching resolutely at her
new Sunday gown. Snow L look
back on it, it does seem silly that 1
and Brickett should quarrel about
such a little thing, But when your
temper's up, you know, you can't
stop to reason, as you do ut ordinary
times.
"No, indeed - said Mrs. Marrow
fat.
"Grandfather Gum willed Brickett
that big armchair" went on Mrs.
Brickett. He hadn't great deal to
leave, poor old fellow, but he did
what he could. 1t was great, ugly,
old-fashioned thing. as cumbrous to
move as horse and chaise, and dread
fully old fashioned in the make. So
says 1, 1T amt fit for any place but
the store-room. 'Store-room, in
deed!' says Brickett. MY Grand
father Gums armchair amt going
to be hustled away into any store
room. I'm just going to have it down
stairs, where I can set in it, and take
my comfort, says Brickett, says he.
1t don't match any of my furniture,
says |. Then take your furniture
somewhere else, says Brickett. Well,
the first we knew, We came to light
words, me aud Brckett. I'll go
homo to mother, says /. The sooner
the better, says he. I've stood your
temper till | can't stand it no longer +
SO came home to mother-nnd Brick
EFT, he's let the farm and gone out
West, so the Widow Simmons writes
me; for, of course, I've no way of
knowing anything about it myself"
And Mrs. Brlckett brushed tear
out of the corner of her eye with the
frill of her apron.
Dear, dear |" said Mrs. Marrowfat.
81 suppose Mr.. Brickett was a great
trial to you?"
''No, l can't say that he was, "
acknowledged Mrs. Briclett "He had
n temper of his own, had Brickett
but SO had |. I'm most sorry, now,
didn't let Grandfather Gums arm
chair stand hy the settin'-room fire
just where he wanted it'll"
"Why don't you write and tell him
so?" suggested Mrs. Marrowfat.
~ won't be the dust under any mans
feet" said Mrs. Brickett, with spirit.
i've left him, and I'm not the womtu
to go fawning back again and ask his
pardon, for standing up for my own
| lights-no, that I'm moi! -
But after Mrs. Marrowfat had
folded her knitting work into its bag,
put her best cap into pasteboard
box, and gone home, Mrs. Brickett
sat sadly looking out where the tall,
red hollyhocks nodded their heads
above the garden wall, and the bees
came hUmming home from the white
blossomed buckwheut fields beyond.
and thought of the pleasant old farm
III the Unadilia Valley, with the stoep
rooted, oldfnshioned house, nnl
Grandfather Gums big armchair
standing vacant by the unused hearth
stone, and she almost felt as if she hnt
done wrong.
"But I'd die before I'd own as mucl
to Brickett!" suid she.
So, by way of securing change o
air and scene, and diverting her mint
from the folly of her conduct, Mrs
Brickett concluded to go out West
|
married and settled there.
Perhaps, If like Kansas, 1 shall
stay there, said she, to herself. 81
don't matter very much whether
live in one place or another, nova
days"
1t was long, tedious journey-es
pecinlly SO to Mrs. Brickett, who wa
not an accomplished traveller.
The evening OF the second da
closed in wet and windy, as they cam
steaining steadily along on the edge G
an almost interminable prairie.
They had stopped for supper at al
Insignificant little town where the