The aegis & intelligencer. [volume] (Bel Air, Md.) 1864-1923, 1899-05-05
30isccIlaAcu1sa
AUNT BETIIIA,
BY BELLE c. GREENE.

needs no Introduction. Perhaps you
have met herin tie city at some recent
art exhibition, or picture sale, where
| she sat among the crowd, g iittl; be
| wilder4d, but sufficiently alert, listen.
ing to the glib and chatter of the critics
as they discussed the merits of some
! thousand dollar landscape.
| The same being, rs she declared to
the friend accompanying her, only a
! picter of %lia5 any DCdN can see tor
| nothin' up TO Crauey uoiler," where
| she lives. "Why,n sad she, regarding
the great work of art with one eye
severely shat up, jest go TO our back
| door of a summer morning and stand
and look, aud there you have it for all
! the world.
The same, smooth, green medders,
with the pretty brooks windiu'
! through 'em. and on both rides, 10 the
| right and left. the pastur' lands VIII re
| the cattle are fed, SO eaceful and con-
tented; then, way eff in the distance,
| them soilem-lookia' mountains. with
the shaGders creepiG' round 'em, or
| restin' on their tops; and all the time
| the sun shines bright and pleasant
down below in the valley.
II do del re, could almost believe
the man stood in our back door when
he painted that picter!
at is a han some view and no mis-
take; but don't it seem pity to spend
| so much money jest for q pictec, when
you could BUY Il small farm-a live
picter, as it wtre-for a thousand
dollars ~
She sees much in our city to disap-
| prove. Most of the so-calIed modern
improvements are denominations to
Aunt Bethia.
The electric light finds no favor in
her eyes.
How must our Maker look ont ~
she asks, Indignantly.
ut wouldn't be SO bad if they only
used it as they do gas, or kerosene lie;
but when they come to light up all
outdoors with it, and make it take the
place o. the heavenly bod es-that's
what l call impious! nothIn' more
nor less than tryin' to Guido the Crea-
tor.
when the moon and stars don't
shine. let folks walk in the dark, or
else carry a larntern ~ says she, whim-
sically.
The telephone she regards as an in
fernal machine, and insists that there
is something supernatural about it.
She has never been prevailed upon
to use it once.
Il won't have anything to do with
it in any way nor shape ~ says she.
Jest as if any human Invention could
do what that thing does ~
So she always keeps Il safe distance
from it, as if it were liable to go of -
atauy moment CT play some diabolical
trick upon her.
ole does not approve of the ''im
proved methods in our schools, and
much prefers to have the children
! lean their lessons from their books
| and recite them standing in Il nice
straight line, with theiv toes to q crack
| in the floor. She you'd like more
| prominence given to order and 10 the
Ten Commandments; and she sadly
misses the dinner-baskets and the
| WATERFALL and tin dipper.
She went to see the latest comic
opera, and her womanly soul was
shocked beyond repair at the conduct
of lovesick maidens; she felt pers NAL
ly Inundated and disgraced, and sat
there with burning cheeks, not daring
/ to 90, and too indignant to stay and
see it through.
Words were thrown away upon her.
"All the words in the English Ian,
guage," she declared to us, couldn't
excuse or explain away such shame.
full exhibition-such immodest be.
havior on the part of them young girls
1.-The troI.opes !" said she, angr,ly,
"where in the world were their
mothers Poor things, though" sh5
aided, as a afterthought, perhaps
~. L. 7 - 1,
lieve they lad
"There's notllin' like work for keep
in girls out O. mischief" she is fond
of saying.
when our girls leave school let ZEN
take right hold and help their mothers
with the housew ork and the plain sew
in and tahin' care of the baby, auC
teen they won't be laundering to pain
old pots and jars or to embroider sage
green curtains and table cloths
Though why that color is called sage
green l can't imagine; it certainly aim
the color of any sage that ever grew
in my garden; and it's unaccountablt
to me that SO many folks nowadays
prefer such dirty, fdded-out colors tina
you can't look at without feelin' sicl
and faint, when there's plenty o
pretty bright ones that will wash ant
bile, as it were"
Aunt Bethia is born nurse, and a.
such is recommended by the "Holler'
folks with as much enthusiasm a.
their own favorite spring bitters O
cough remedy.
She is indeed excellent in cases o
sickness and she comes at such time
like a veritable angel of mercy, bring
| ing with her soft voice and gentle
soothing ways, not forgetting the noise
less slippers and the white aprons.
Aunt Bethia is, I suppose. an oil
maid; but there is no bitter blight o
disappointment upon her life.
She has never loved, and her unwol
heart is still fresh with the deW o
youth. Though her lovely hair is jus
beginning to be threaded with gray
she knows not the feeling of growing
ola, neither do the passing years brini
any definite sense of want to her peace
full, sunny nature, except, perhaps
sometimes a dreamy feeling of incom
pleteness, like the faintest shadoy
only of pain.
Her city nieces tell her often, witt
many hug and caress, that her fac
is the sweetest and dearest in all til
world, that she looks quite too utter
lyn quaint aud lovely in her lace an
muslin kGTcliefs and her pretty whit
aprons; and she always answers depr5
catingly:
But, oh, my dears, am so old-fasi;
toned -
Nevertheless, when she is alone sh
looks in the glass and bushes warmly
half inclined to believe their swee