The times., 1899-03-05


ed custom of intending brides. Mary de-
votes all her thought and ingenuity to the
formation of the layette. In her bedroom
she has box devoted to her stock of baby
linen. In all her spare moments after the
appearance of lover she is to be ssen
busily cutting out and sewing little gar
ments which her clumsy fingers most c.ev-
erly fashion and adorn. She mutters to
herself over the needle with a very happy
look.
''Ef so be as it's a gal-and want it to
be gal-tis to be called Marg'ret," she
says, displaying some of the handiwork.
Marg'ret and me used ter talk over how
| were to have n little gal o. my own and
that were to be called arter her."
1t is useless to demonstrate with her on
the premature nature Of her work.
"Oh. ah! Some people is allust put
tin orr" she says with contempt.
The chance that her union might not be
blessed with children has been pointed out
to her.
There bain't no sense i getting married
onless ye're to have childen. | don't ho.d
wi no such foolishness as that come tu,
nayther." she says.
: So for a little she stitches busily away,
and then. as in the case Of Tedder, the
chickens being reared and Michaelmas
near, change comes over the young dream
VI iONc WHICH VISITS our
The baby linen is locked away in the box.
Tedder may wait in vain, slouching about
the kitchen door, lounging against the dry
ing ground gate. She takes the precaution
TO hang out her linen and to gather it in
at an hour when .le young mans occupa-
tion detains him at a safe distance. She
has no quarrel with him. enters into no ar
gument on the subject listens to no lovers
appeal. He may linger in the autumn air
amid
urged by the desperation of his case to
show the reality Of his love, re-erect her
linen props for her, blown down in last
nights gale; or, waylaying her in an un-
wary moment, attempt to carry her basket
of wet linen.
Without any compunction for the false
hopes she has raised and the havoc she
has wrought in his affections, she elbows
him out of her way. tells him she has no
longer time to play the fool and gives him
various salutary but blunt pieces of advice
as to his future conduct.
Tedder is convinced at last that his luck
is to be no better than that of his predeces-
sor; that his chances. for that year, at any
rate. are over. If he stay in the same
mind till the chickens come again-no
newer admirer being beforehand with him
on the drying ground-he can resume his
role for the season. At the end Of it he will
meet with the same fate.
Poor Mary That visionary baby OF hers,
which was to bear the beloved name, short
coated long ago. should be old enough by
now to wear the green merino in which
her mother came to Dulditch. Each time
that the swain is sent about his business
and Mary turns to the sober duties of her
life again, she presents the greater part
Of those shirts and gowns and flannel
head-pieces to some expectant mother in
the village, whose hopes are more certain
ly fulfilled than Mary's. But in the spring
time when the world that was dead with
all its hopes and promises lives again, she
Is bound to set to work to fill her box
once more.
While she lives, I suppose, the maternal
instinct will cry out in Mary. She is so
constructed that the Establishments of the
rustic lover beguile her only partially and
for little while: she wearies of the 'fu-
leries" of the mate apportioned her. but
the attractiveness of that baby head which
should lie against her breast, of the help
less feet that should dance in her lap, Of
the clinging hands in her own, will fasci-
nate her imagination till her deathbed.
1t is said in the village that Mary rules
the rectory. At the rectory it is known
that she does not rule with gentle hand.
There is an air of contemptuousness in her
management of us which is a little hard
to bear. We cannot always do what we
will with out own; there are certain days
on which we dare not invite visitors to
our house: there are one or two parishion
ers to whom We have to show attention
subrosa, Mary not approving of their
persons or characters or ways or "goin'
on" there are others who are pushed for
ward for soup and brandy and pieces on
all occasions. There was one summer
time, she being for some reason unusual
| ly crusty (''short- wasted" she calls this
state of mind herselD. when she would
| not sanction our giving the annual school
| treat. We dared not undertake it without
her approval.
She is always specially difficult" when
| the church bells ring; can barely tolerate
| their tolling for church, and is rendered
| furious by the practice for the Christmas,
the New Year. and other festivals. She
| has, indeed, a curious terror OF music. 1t
is not often now that there are any to
make music at the rectory, but on those
occasions when Guy runs down, and old
friends of his look in upon US; when the
| piano is opened again. and again the
'plaintive numbers flow for old. unhap-
py, aft things. and battles long ago"
| then Mary takes refuge in the under
| ground cellar and muffles her head in a
| shawl.
| 1t may be that the melancholy mad
ness" is trying TO Mary's nerve: it may be
| that she is unusually susceptible Of the
charm of music; she is, perhaps. dimly con-
| scious that If she ceased to withstand its
sway its power over her might become ir-
resistible; perhaps the measured malice"
awake3 within her longings which tear her
| breast with unspeakable pain. Mary does
not plead any of these excuses. She calls
music ''terruflc Mise" and says it gives
her ''sinkin' in 'er in'ards.''
| She might be induced to go to the church
| nf hIIt he hn hut
| she speaks with no certainty on the point.
| Familiarity, | fear, has accomplished its
usual office, and bred contempt in the rec
| tory servant of the forms of that religion
which is the rectory 'cOnsarn." as she
puts it. She is unable to separate the mas
| ter in the pulpit, with his learning. his
| ascendency, his voice OF authority, from
the master of the home, who has to be
scolded for forgetting to put a comforter
round his neck: whose study fire has to be
| lit six times day because his memory
is not to be trusted to remind him to put
| on the Goals; who is SO wickedly uupunc-
| tual about meals.
II don't want him a-setting up ter tache
me-" Mary says with frank disdain: 'ef
so be as ivver | want ter pray, take 1t
| kin pray without such as him..
| So. instead of going to church, Mary sits
over the kitchen fire on the Sabbath with
| her Bible in her lap. 1t is in fact a
monster Bible. being one which she bought
at the door from travelling agent.
| 1t is partly the possession of that enor-
nous Bible which gives Mary such feel
| ing of superiority to the rector. Once in a
moment OF expansion. anxious TO share the
blessings that were hers. she carried the
| book. wrapped in the cloth which always
| enveloped it, into the dining-room, and
laid 1t proudly down before her masters
chair.
The gays are wonnerful instructin'. ;"
she said her eyes on her treasure. but
modestly withdrawn from its neighbor-
hood. There's angels in ut, and Baium' s