The Worthington advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1874-1908, 1901-06-21

my, BUT your mornin' glorics do
lVl look nice, Miss Phemey! Wish
you'd save me some seed often that
white one." It was Mrs. Ridley COM
inR up the walk.
II will, Mis- Ridley. Come in and
set dawn. There's a pam leaf on the
lounge. an mebbe you'll take glass
of cool water. It's scorchin' morn
ing" said Miss Phemey.
II would like a drink, thank you"
responded Mrs. Ridley. Seems like
when anybody's fat as I am, they just
get het up like coal stove: My, that
tastes good. You got grand we'll;
Miss Phemey."
The hostess smiled fattered smile,
bit before she could speak Mrs. Ridley
went on: II brought over three Of
Mr.. Ridley's vests, Miss Phemey, to get
you to mend 'em. He's busted 'em
ever one right down the back, FIR all
the world like seven-year locust, l
tell i'm, ant seems like got no time
to fix 'em, with Emma May gittin'
married next week. We're just Twin
in a regular whirlwind, an sorry as
I'll be to see Emma May go-not that
I don't like Charlie Foote, but you
know what meant cert 'ney shall be
glad when all this fuss is over"
II expect it is trying" sympathized
\ Miss Phemey. "But Emma Mays al
ways been a good daughter, an she
deserves fine weddin."
"'Tain't that I don't want her to
have it," said Mrs. Ridley, hastily.
"But I'm just dog-tired this mornin'-
for the land sakes, it's half-past ten
o'clock already; I got togo. You
bring them vests over when they're
done, Miss Phemey, an I'll pay you
f'r 'em. Id send one O. the boys over,
but Emma May wants you to come per-
ticker an see her presents, SOIL be
KILN two birds with one stone." She
chuckled comfortably as she stepped
outside the door.
Miss Phemey looked after her de-
parting form with resentfu1 stare.
eyes," she muttered, "she can get Miss
Maxwell to make Emma Mays weddin'
clothes, but I'm good enough to mend
up Jim Ridley's old vests. I'll charge
her Is cents apiece, see + I don't;
that'n be As cents. Does seem good
bit to charge FIR mendin' three vests"
Emma May wants you to come per-
ticker to see her presents! faint
no hint; oh, no! Sally Ridley needn't
'a'troubled herself to say that. I got
present for Emma May, an I'm going
to give it to her. I'd like to get even
with them, the whole kid band of 'em.
Jest as if I couldn't 'a'made Emma
Mays weddin' clos! They tell me
Miss Maxwell uses chain-stitch ma
chine. 1 always did say chain-stitch
machines was made for the careless,
an I don't see no reason to change my
mind. Well, pom word, this vest amt
on'y busted, but frayed int the bar
gain.'' Miss Phemey fell briskly to
sewing. ~s>~'
The next day, despite the threaten
ing rumble of a distant storm, Miss
Phemey dressed in her best and start
ed toward the l,idleys, carefully car
rying two packages. She was gra-
ciously received by Emma May, a fat,
fair girl Of pleasant mien and placid
disposition.
II brought home them vests" ex-
planned Miss Phemey; land here,
Emma May, is little present I
brought for you. It'll be nice FIR your
dining-room table, thought" She
held out q small white pasteboard
box, with an expression Of the heap
ing-coals-of-fire kind.
.:.Ma," called Emma May, "come here;
Miss Phemey's brought me butter
knife! VISIT you'd look! That GER
they is beautiful"
''It's solid silver" said the donor,
proudly. my niece down to New
York got it for me-" She received the
thanks, delivered trife embarrassed
", of mother and daughter, with po-
lite GOODNESS.
When the bride-elect invited her to
an inspection of the presents, Miss
Phemey looked them over and made
few comments. She turned the set of
silver spoons, presented by the
gropm's parents" so that the plate
mark was visible, and she tapped the
globe of gaudy china lamp with the
remark that they were just two dol
lars and thirty-nine cents down to
Beedham's. When she had looked at
ell, she said, cheerfully:
''Now 1 want to see your clothes,
Emma May"
Mr.. and Mrs. Ridley exchanged
glances of annoyance. but the latter
led the way to the spare room, where,
on bed and chair, lay the creations of
Miss Maxwell, "City Modiste."
There was the white silk wedding
dress, the tan travelling dress, some
odd waists. black satin, stiff with
jet, and a "tea gown No girl in
country town marries without these
last indispensable garments; they
are the real backbone of the trous-
seau.
Miss Phcmey looked at the display,
felt the quality of the material, and
examined the despised chain-stitch-
ing, without word. At last she
said, pleasantly conscious of paying
old scores:
IF might persoom to ~criticise,