The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1897-06-26

Mr.. Joseph Busby eyed the sky as he
leisurely walked from the barn to the
house. The morning sun was yelled ny a
fleecy mist, while low in the southwest a
hank of low dark clouds was visible.
After his prolonged scrutiny, MIR. Bushy
Wondered the matter. 1t was not until he
had washed his hands and face on the back
kitchen porch, and entered the room where
his wife was taking up the breakfast, that
he said:
"Pears like it might rain"
"That's what you always say II there
a cloud in the sky" Mrs. Bushy SAID,
tartly: "I'n thank you to lift that boiler
on, just the same"
"Goin' to wash It's most certain to
rain" 49,.
.I.et it rain. | haven't any patience
with such weather." and Mrs. Bushy rushed
down the cellar after q pitcher OF cream
Her husband never hurried. He put the
boiler carefully on the stove, built up a
good fire. and, in obedience to gesture
from his wife, took his place at the table
Mr.. Busby always thought before nc
spoke. This time, after brief but earnest
blessinr, he devoted himself to ham, egga
and potatoes for five minutes before saying
in his usual drawing voice:
sThat was powerful sermon OF the
elder, yesterday, Mirandy. | always
InhrpJn
lined to his idols might apply to some OF
US. Most everybody has idols OF some
sort or other"
Mrs. Busby stirred her eolden-bTown
coffee reAectively. ''Perhaps So hope
the people who needs it took Mr.. Rantons
fine application. AS for me- once haa an
idol, but God took it,"
There was Il pause. The Thoughts OF
both husband and wife travelled to the
parlor, where hung the picture OF a child
a wee maiden, with laughing blue eyes and
dimlled arms. 1t was the picture OF little
Leah, their only child, whose death twenty
wears before had left the old farm home
desolate.
MIR. Busby's heart was too deeply stirred
by memories of his child to speak, But
when q dash OF rain came against the win
dow-pane, his wife exclaimed, Grossly:
"There, it's raining. And il l don
wash Monday, nothing goes right all the
week"
"'Tain't an idol, is it, Mirandy?"
The good man of the house pushed back
from the table. "Now, it don't seem Jest
right to be sot as you air on dom your
work exactly as You want to. 1t pears to
me it might be an idol"
"What an idea! Just look there, Joseph.
See that dirty spot on the tablecloth where
you've rubbed your old coat sleeves. The
tablecloth was clean yesterday morning,
and now it must 20 in the wash, making
three this week. do wish you would be
more careful"
"Why, now, Mirandy, do try to be
careful. l wish you would use colored
table-cloths. thought you bought some
Turkey-red ones"
dyes, did buy them," and look OF
disgust crossed the face opposite Mr.. Busby
s'But want it understood am not going
use them. will work my fingers to the
bone before will set my table with any
thing but white CLOTH" and she stroked
the glossy linen approvingly.
81 know, Mirandy, but maybe that's
another idol. You see, you think sigh
Of such things"
snow, Joseph Busby, il you are going tt
talk such nonsense as that you had bette
get to work. just see there. The sun il
shining. So you see it was right for me tt
wash, after ALL"
"Msybe 3d." and the eyes OF the simple
hearted man sOitened as he looked through
the east window, at the sun-kissed younl
foliage from which the rain drops were ye
falling. "Maybe 3d." Mirandy. You al
MI uneoul,aon woman, and nave been