Gulf Coast breeze. [volume] (Crawfordville, Fla.) 1897-19??, 1898-08-05

"Poor dear mani" calculated Mrs.
Moneypenny, laying down the news
paper and looking at her small grand
daughter, 81 must put him into the
Red Book" And she gave gentle
sigh as she spoke, for the names in
the Red Book were already numerous
"What has he done, granny?'
Doreen Golding dropped the much.
hated sampler she was working and
pushed back the golden curls that
would fall into her eyes, ''Has he
killed somebody, or drunk poison, or"
her blue eyes growing large with
sudden interest-"has he been ship
wrecked, md was he starving, and did
he eat up oil the other peoples in the
boat one by one?"
"Doreen, said Mrs. Moneypenny,
severely, "you are an extremely
naughty little girl. If you were older
1 should almost think that you had
been reading my newspapers. Con-
tinue your work at once"
~ haven't read any old newspa-
pers," answered Doreen in an injured
tone of voice; "you told me yourself,
granny"
81 told you'll" The old lady held
up her hands in horror at the very
idea.
"Yes, you did, granny" persisted
Doreen, standing up, defiant little
figure; when you read anything in
the paper that makes you feel sorry
you say Poor mani or Poor womanp
and then you go on reading and begin
thinking out loud, and you say,
Fancy killing his poor little grill
Dear, dear! Just fit Of temper; or
starving, dying OF thirst; dear me! /
might have done it myself; one never
knowsl' You tell me bit about
everything, and I make believe the
rest. When I can't make it all out I
ask Sophie. Sophie always tells me
just what / wantto know"
"Doreen! You are very naughty
little girl indeed!" gasped the old
lady, clutching hold of her newspaper
with both hands. Sophie is very
good girl-she never reads the news
papers"
"Yes, she does, granny" asserted
Doreen, gathering up colony Of dolls
from the hearth rug as che spoke, "she
loves it as much as you do. I always
tell her when you've read anything
specially dreadful, and she says Law,
Miss Doreen! I'll be sure to read it
this very night What has the man
done, granny?
Nothing that is at all proper to
tell little girls or servants" answered
Mrs. Moneypenny, stifly. "You are
a very strange child, not at all like
what your dear mother used to be.
Go away and play in the garden,
Doreen."
Doreen hesitated and then obeyed,
determined to find out what the man
in the newspaper had done for Sophie
as soon as possible.
Mrs. Moneypenny lived toward the
close Of the nineteenth century, but she
belonged in spirit to the eighteenth.
She wore long silk mittens, puce-
colored silk dress that fell around her
in volumnous folds and a cap with
lace lappets that rested lightly upon
her gray, corkscrew curls. She
washed the china herself after break
fast and tea She owned stillroom
and rejoiced in its mysteries. Her hall
and sitting room were scented with
potpourri and her linen press.with |
lavender. Her bed was warmed every |
night with a warming pan, and when
she had cold she sat with her fe |
in hot mustard and water and drank
treacle-posset. Also, she wore 60
loshes whenever it was wet and did |
an immense amount of worsted needle.
work. Her grandchild was the off
spring of the nineteenth century; 80
was Sophie, the maid of all work. DC.
casionally the two centuries disagreed
and met in combat, but, owing per.
haps to certain stateliness in its
representative, the eighteenth century
more often than not drove the nine.
teenth of the fed.
Mrs. Moneypenny was old-fashioned
enough to believe in prayer. She be-
lieved in its efficacy SO firmly that her
household believed in it also, which is
saying a good deal. She was as method
ical over her religious duties as she
was in worldly matters. She prayed
whenever she saw sad sight, heard O
sad story or read Of sin, sorrow or
death. Then, il she considered the
case important, she entered it into
certain red-covered book and spent
the greater part Of every Sunday af-
ternoon in going through its contents,
mentioning each item in turn and
praying about each with all the fervor
Of her warm old heart. Age is some.
times grabbed and unlovely. Prayer
kept the current Of mrs. Moneypenny's !