The Winslow mail., 1898-04-23
A SOCIAL ADVISER
By Josephine II. Nichols.
>%>S>~~S~~~~

HTOR kingdom come, Miss Mary
run here, quick!" Priscilla S
a0onized n tones sent me flying to the IL
brarv. where 1 found her mounted on
the top step of the stepladder, armed
with the long-handled brush, with
which she had been polishing the coun-
tenance of my ancestors. Her eyes,
observed. were stretched to twice their
natural size.
.cWhat on earth is the matter?" [
asked
4sMatter enough, chile. Dis ole lad
der is powerful onsartain, an Jlst now
when I wuz dustin ole Marster's plcter'
hit 'Deared ter me, he kinder smiled at
me. same like ez he useter do, an wuz
dat skeered pretty nigh tumbled OH.
looked at the portrait OF my stately
old grandfather and frowned; Priscll-
las love of sensation was apt to carry
her far, but until now she had respected
my relatives.
Don't be absurd 1 said, crushingly,
and instead of holding the ladder, as
was evidently expected to do, l crossed
the room and retired to the shelter OF
the window seat.
Priscilla, however, was not easily sub
dued; indeed, 1 had often confided to
Fred that in my mind she had all the
qualifications of a social leader-su-
preme seIf-confidence and magnlh-
cent capacity for ignoring snubs; SO,
having successfully inveigled me into
the library, after moments silence,
she proceeded smoothly;
''Mr. Fred's the livin' bornd image Of
ole marster; 1 sez ter Hinery yistidday:
'Hinery,' sez I, if Mr.. Fred wuz ez ole ez
his gran'pa, L clar ter gracious l
couldn't know de diffrunce between
'em.'"
Her conversational efforts fell I'M
needed on my ears, for l did not reply,
but continued to stare out of the win
dow at the vivid sweep of live oak
branches beyond.
Priscilla climbed down and moved the
ladder before portrait of my mother.
''Lor," she said, passing the brush
carefully over the lovely young face,
'Lor, Miss Mary L members yore mas
weddin' day jist like hit wuz yistidday;
she sholy wuz beauty, an young, too,
only 19 when she married Marse Ralph"
She paused and looked over at me.
Miss Mary, huccome you amt never
married?'
"That is my own affair." 1 replied,
sternly.
81 lows you had lots of chances. Mo-
deste Fowler sez Betty Green DEITY
was my maid) tole her you done los de
count of de gemman what aXed you ter
marry 'em." Of course it was despic-
ably weak of me, but 1 felt my heart
warm towards Betty. "She sez es how
you wuz jinuine belle when you lived
in de city"
"Did she, indeed?" said, feigning an
Indifference that | was far from feel
ing; that was certainly kind of her."
But eff you amt never felt no leanin'
todes marryin', Miss Mary, you done
right ter stay single, an | reckon when
you count hit all up, you hez done
choosed de better part
| laughed. ''That is rather hard on
Henry, PRISCILLA
''Hinery is good husban' ez husbans
60 Miss Mary" she said, ''but when
'ooman marries she amt free no long
er; she's bleeged ter insult anoder pus-
son about everything, an deres times
when dat gifts kinder tiresore like"
/ did not tell Priscilla 80, but in a
crude way she had expressed my own
objections to natrimony.
II wuz young and foolish in dose
days." she went on, "an' he wuz de bes'
dancer an de bes' fiddler on de planta-
ton, an de oder niger gals wuz fairly
wild ter ketch him, an L lowed ez L
warn't gwine ter let 'em git ahead of
me, so when Hinery axed me, ups an
sez YES fore 1 knowed what L wuz
Goin'"
''Well, he has made you good hus-
band," [ said ''NIr. Fred thinks a
great deal of Henry
Priscilla pursed up her lips; her ex-
preston conveyed the idea that she
could tell much ''an' she would" but
aloud she only said:
Use got money laid up, Miss Mary; 1
reckon hits wuth while fur Hinery ter
be consartin' hisself kerrect wild me;
my ole mother (bless herr sez ter me de
night l wuz married, 'Sylla,' sez she,
dom you never let Hinery git hole of
what you earns; he'll RESPECT you eff
you hez money of your own an Miss
Mary, chile, 1 amt never forgot dem
words of advice; she wuz good CONAN,
my mother wuz."
Poor Henry, thought L.
''Dere's no use talkin', Miss Mary, eff
you wants ter hev peace youse bleeged
ter take a STAN frum de fust. Now
deres Henry, you wouldn't think it now,
but he wuz ez skittish ez a colt when
married him."
81 certainly wouldn't have thought
so," I replied devoutIy, remembering
the meek-faced little man who called
Priscilla wife.
Hinery sholy wuz mannish, Miss
Mary, but tux hit all out of him de
fust year we wuz married." and she
chuckled approximately.
AS l betrayed no wild interest in
Priscilla's matrimonial difficulties, she
proceeded to change the subject with
an abruptness that was startling.
Miss Mary" said she, with the
frank impertinence of an old servant,
sis Mr.. Hugh Raney your beau?"
"Of course not." 1 replied, rapidly;
''he's friend of Mr.. Fred's."
"a fren' of Mr.. Fred's?" she repeat
ed, thoughtfully; "a mighty good fren',