The L'Anse sentinel. (L'Anse, L.S., Mich.) 18??-current, 1897-12-25
ssSSSSS5
& RE IT EVER
\ :. SO HUMBLE.
D BY MARY E. MITCHELL. /
50 GOD land!" said Mrs. Collins,


She had just retired, worsted, from
. contest with old Betsey Tucker, and
hor faculties needed collecting, her
sounded pride soothing.
II ANYTHING could calm her ruflled
old feelings the sights and sounds of
that June day should have done so. The
oir was sweet and balmy, the afternoon
snr Golden. and the frightening shad-
ows soft on the green sward.
II was one of those happy days when
,her, did not seem anything to do and
80 particular reason why it should be
done. when one felt as irresponsible as
The lazy little clouds that fioated over
beod and as careless of purpose as the
allow butterfly which flickered above
The field flowers.
The uncertainty of spring was past,
,be Neat and burden of the summer not
,ct come. 1t was that short between
,;mcs when nature, for a few precious
vceks ahandons her responsibilities
onJ takes a blessed vacation, inviting
all her children TO join in the revelry.
Tho bers doomed and buzzed among
tbo Ao,{crA which made gay the door
yorl. tS.Trds twittercd husily over
hood. hut Mrs. Collins ears and eyes
resisted an temptations to be diverted.
Bets,v Tucker had been very proyok-
iug.
"Shc alters used salt risin's, and rs
,or her Pie crust. twas heavy as her
tread. She givin'. me advice! Good
land"
Old Mr.. Buck doubled with rheuma-
tIsm and tremulous with years, limped
nm The path and seated himself on the
bench by Mrs. Collins.
"Whv," he said. blinking ut her
through his stcel-bowcd glasses, 'you
look Kind o. het up, Ms Collins. You
mustn't hurry SO, with your age and
flesh"
"Taiut hurry. Mr.. Buck: and amt
so old hut can hold my own yet. thank
you. ~ imperdence that has ril my
blood I've half mind to pack up my
things and leave the housc--and she a
Tucker with Tucker breedin' and
Tucker manners, Jest wish Mr. Col
lius could n heard her this afternoon.
He'd say. Hannah, you Git fright out o
here"
Where might YOU think q goin'?"
asked Mr. Buck, rubbing a mpditative
hand over his knee.
Mrs. Collins waived the question:: il
was an embarrassing one. There was
no hope Of Mr. Collins Offering her n
shelter; the Grcenhill graveyard had
held him for 80 years. Indeed. there
was no one In the town. norrin the wide
world, for that matter. ia whom Mrs.
Collins could fee if she turned her back
on the precincts of the town farm.
The poorhouse might not tc an aris-
tocrotic place in which TO pass ones old
age, but Il was clean and comfortable,
and Mrs Collins knew it.
Il guess there's plenty who would
take me ir." She said. evasNcly. But
don't care TO he beholden TO nobody.
I'll put up with deal first. II had
what's mine by good rights I'd leave
here fast enough. 'Tain't just the place
care to be in"
Il guess that's the case with most Of
us responded the old man, with a
cracked laugh. I'VE amt any Of Us
here by choicc..M's Collins; but there's
worse places than this"
u amt complainin' Of the place. Ms
Chase is q mighty good woman. and
There amt II spcck o dirt to be found,
not if YOU should go down on your
Knees and hunt for it,"
Mr. Buck sighed. II would take more
than the satisfaction of finding a spcck
Of dirt to get him down on his poor,
stiff knees.
No continued the old woman. 81
am sayin' anything against the house.
ont there's them in it-who oughter be
taught their place" u
Al this moment the gate opened and a
NIUE girl came slowly up the ash path.
hoidmg her school books under her
arm She was delicate and pretty,
ABOUT eight years old, with quiet, sober
iaee' and gentle movements. Her dress
was clean and whole, but plain in the
extreme; it hung limp and forlorn
aoout her slender limbs, and afforded
ample space for growth.
Now there's little creetur who
ooughtnt to be here" said Mr.. Buck. rs
40, '''' NdllSItu lHt uOOIs
one wants mother to make her laugh
anu spapk her and put some fol-de-rols
on to her"
We'll i don't know" returned Mrs.
collins. "M's Chase does well by her
Ie''ys got her life before her, and she
y, mont spend it all here. It's old folks
Inc You and me, Mr.. Buck, who are in
aere Tor the rest of our days, and-who
:. 'ne known somethin' better, who feel
II the most"
an me two inmates sat on, in the warm
ernoon air. Old Mr.. Buck dozed
PEACEFULLY off. but Mrs. Collins did not
'ieiu TO the drowsy influence.
as the sun went over into the west
anu Its light grew more and more
soluen' softening everything by its gra-
'ous touch, the old woman's thoughts
.N''he reminiscent instead of vindic-
NV e, and Betsey's aggravating remarks
~ longer rankled within her.
Even the scenes about her faded from
a, A.. CONSCIOUS gaze. She was not sitting