Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1903-04-21


was tablecloth, an she says. Don't
you never tell your mother that dream
again as long as you live an breathe
There's lots Of things makes her nerv-
GUS. Mother amt never nervous"
satisfied ripple in her voice
aunt Octavia an had secret
once" she went on in gentle flow Of
reminiscence. 81 was stayin' over to
her house while Uncle Silas sugared
Off"
She threw pebble into the brook
and watched the widening circles Oh
the water with an air of reflective spec
ulation.
"What was the secret, Electra?" ask
ed Miss Wagner after moments ST.
lence.
"Oh, yes" still looking at the water
and speaking half absently. II was
lonesome for mother one night after
got into bed, an auntie left candle
burning. but twas little bit Of one,
an it sputtered l said, Now | lay
me- Just as If mother was there. Then
the candle sputtered again, an | be-
gan to say, Our Father They heard
me then, an they came runnin' up
stairs In q norfle hurry, an Aunt Oc'
tavia says: You little screech owl,
you'll scare me into fits. What under
the canopy are you shoutin' that way
for"
"That was worse n the candle, for
didn't know what she meant, but | told
her that the prayer said, 'Hollered be
thy name an that was why I'd been
hOllerin'.
"Then Aunt Octavia said, I don't
know how II strikes you, 81, but | do
b'lieve there's somethin' lackin' in the
upper story
Uncle Silas said there wasn't. He
said he'd bet cooky 'twould come out
oil right in course Of time; better wait
an see.
81 guess l went to sleep after that,
but some time-mebbe twas the next
day-auntie told me we'd have Sc
cret. Then she got me to promise
wouldn't tell livin' soul about the
upper story, not even mother. | said
I didn't want to tell mother; she'd feel
SO bad if there was anything the mat
ter with auntie's house. l think Uncle
Silas felt bad, too, for he KEEP whistlin'
while she was maxim me promise. an
he said: Il should think you'd feel like
singin' pretty small about that speech,
Tavy.' | asked Aunt Octavia about 1t
once a little while ago. an she said the
upper story was all right now. So
gpose tits, but | can't see single bit
of difference when go there. Auntie
amt never been very well, mother
saws, an she takes notions. l s'pose
that's why she's always tellin' me not
to talk the boarders stone blind, an
never talked anybody blind in my life,
'cept p'r'aps Tropickercancer's Kittens
an they got right over It,"
The intervals OF fruit scented silence
began to grow more frequent. Had Eve
been like Electra, Adam would have
found 1t easy to withstand her half
hearted solicitations. Her occasional
Don't you want a maple, too" sound
ed too mechanical and perfunctory to
elicit even q refusal. Afterward, when
she saw that the long suffering canvas
bag went home empty, Miss Wagner
found it necessary to assure herself In
a dazed sort of way that she had posi-
lively not eaten single apple that
morning.
II was with sensation akin to terror
that she detected indications OF hunger
| I'm Electra on the way home.
"Mother told me we was goin' to have
stewed chicken for dinner, an toast
with lots of gravy on it." began that
young person hopefully.
She was climbing the great stone post
under the Osborne naples now, and her
next words futtered downward with
soft, uneven emphasis.
"Were goin' to have green apple pie,
too. an new cheese an coffee. Now,
look out for leaves when I scrabble"
poising herself securely on the post and
beginning a vigorous attack upon the
lower branches of the naples.
Electra" said Miss Wagner sudden
Iy q moment later.
eyes. Miss Dorothy" Her rosy little
face, with tangled curls blown across