The Newtown bee., 1903-11-13
THE HOME CIRCLE.

THE HOME CIRCLE.
 POLLY MONEYS LABOR DAY. HER PICNIC WAS IN NEW YORK, BUT IT WAS, PERHAPs, EVEN BETTER THAN ONE IN THE vILLAGE.-wRIT- TEN BY GRACE aAMwELL RUMMELL FoRTHE SPRINGFIELD (MAss.) REPUB- LICAN.
 "Polly, you run down cellar an bring up some pertaters. We'll bile U good lot and slice em cold fer sal ad. Someone was telling me only the other day, thet cold pertaters was mighty good with hard boiled eggs, sarved on crispy lettuce leaves an 8 nice dressin' poured over the hull Pears to melt would be fust-rate fer the picnic, c,-sorter diff'rent from what folks about here centrally take. Them caraway seed cookies the children will enjoy, an sandwiches, pies an cake will make out rale good spread"
 The speaker paused in her egg-beat. ing and lifted the fork with it's foamy yellow mass high above the bowl. sThere, I've beat them eggs 20 minu- tes by the clock. Guess they'll do. Better bile the pertaters in their jack cts, Polly. Makes lem firmer,- better fer salad, seems to me-"
 "All right, mother" The girls voice was listless. The mother looked at her keenly, opened her mouth to speak, then shut it tight and contin- ued mixing the cake.
 When 1t was in the oven, she seated herself in the big rocker by the win dow and took up the knitting which \ lay there. Thirty odd years at farm life had taught her that idleness was not for her, but the baking dishes could wait few minutes, and she could turn stocking while talking with Polly.
 s.Child, come here. want to ask yer somethin'."
 The girl obeyed, and seating her self on the stool at her mothers feet, looked up questioningly. "Well?"
 s.Some one told me yisterday at the sewin' circle, that thet young man boardin' over to Hiram Smiths was sOme'at struck on you" ..
 There was no answer from Polly save flush on her fair cheek.
 "I don't keer fer that feller's looks Polly. I don't trust him, somehow He's the sort thet gets stuck on every purity face, an now he's taken with you; but 1t won't be long afore hell forgit you an it will be some other gal { with him. Now there's Luke Per kins, child. There's not finer lad ir the county than Luke. He's square an he's good. know young folks at tach heap O importance to looks Wall, Luke surely ain't bad lookin'. call him mighty handsome. An he'' got his farm an he's buildin' new house. Twill be the best house rount about. You know what he's buildin it fer, an who he's buildin' it fer You've kep Luke Perkins danglin round you these l2 months. Wall, h' ain't goin' to have it long. He's build in the house fer you, an when he git 1t built he's goin' to make you qui your foolin' an decide once fer all The house is all but done. Now th' question is, is your mind made up?"
 The girl shifted uneasily as he mother paused, but made no reply. "As fer thet city feller, thet Harve! Curtis, you'd better not see much O him. There'll no good come of hi hangin round; only trouble betweer you an Luke. can tell you, Luke not the man to stand any interference Tell me, Polly, has thet feller made love to you?"
 "No-o." The girl hid her face ir her mothers lap, but the keen eyes de tected the deepening crimson which touched the pretty ears. She bent ant kissed the soft curling hair "Polly my little girl; God knows I want you to be happy. You're good, helpful darter, an you'll make a good wife faithful an true. I want you to hav' a man faithful an true. Now juml up, child, an we1 I'll finish up the morn in's work. It's most noon an dime time."
 It was some hours later when Polly mother, arrayed in clean print gowr and black silk apron, walked down thu road to the nearest farmhouse ant with energetic hand pushed open thu gate and walked around to the sid' door. Mrs Hiram Smith sat within cutting black rags for floor mat. "Wall, Mrs Mooney, an l an ral' glad to see you. Set down an wei have good visit. Where is thet han some darter O yours? I declare hoy we do have to keep our eyes opened fe us sometimes. I never took much ac count O Polly's good looks, seein' he as have day in an day out, all he life, till the other day my city boarde sez to me, That little Policy NoOne. is really beautiful Them's his yer. words, and never truer ones were spoke fer she is as purity as blossomin' rose And to think how we never noticed it!'