The Camden chronicle. (Camden, Tenn.) 1890-current, 1904-08-05
ESTHER'S OPINION.
BY HELEN FORREST GRAVES.


Mr.. Martin had just come in to tea
1t was one of those sultry summer
evenings when the leaves hang stir
storm.
lessly on the trees, and dull electric
fires blaze along the east, foreboders
of storm.
1t had been very hot all day, the
farm~hands had Jagged at their work
on the lowland meadow, and all the
worlds wheels seemed to reyolve as If
they were weighted. Mr.. Martin was
very tired, and withal, little cross.
Perhaps Mrs. Martin was tired, too.
She, poor soul, had been UP since four
o'clock In the morning. She had
washed, taken care of four cows blk,
prepared three meals for the hungry
farmhands, been up in the quarry
woods to search for a family of adj
venturous young turkey-chicks, sooth-
ed the sorrows Of teething baby,
and mended up the suit of clothes
which Betsey Blim, the tailoress, had
declared mot worth a needleful o
threadw because Thomas, her hus-
band, had said that ''willful waste was
woeful want" and that there was
deal of wear in the suit yet, If only
that was stitch taken here and there.
But her cheeks were pink and her
eyes sparkling when Thomas came in,
for all the heaviness of her heart and
the dull pain in her back, for little
Esther had come home from boarding
school.
Esther, the youngest sister OF all,
the darling of the family-circle from
which Mrs. Martin came, the pet for
whom they all had scraped and pinch
ed so that she at least, might have a
Boston education"
And Esther sat in the window-seat,
grown into blooming young woman,
with bronze-brown hair lying in
fluffy masses over her fair forehead,
porcelain blue eyes, and dress all
trimmed with ribbon bows.
Look, Thomas!" cried Mrs. Martin,
excitedly, Its Essie! Essie come home
two days before we expected her!"
Eyes, see,' said Hr. Martin, in the
cold, measured tones which always
dampened his wife's enthusiasm like
SO many drops of freezing water.
''How do you do, Esther? Ruth, what
are you putting cold chicken on the
table for? Cornedbeef is plenty l
am sure. You had a great deal bet
ter save the chicken for the mems
breakfast. Working folks have hearty
oppetites
Esther is fond of cold chicken"
whispered Mrs. Martin.
mo one need want anything better
than good corned-beef," judicially pro-
nounced Mr. Martin. "Put the chicken
back into the pantry, and the apple
Jelly with 1t. Good stewed gooseber-
ries are relish enough for anybody.
We must economic in little things as
well as large ones if we don't want
to end our days in the poor-house."
And Mrs Martin sorrowfully obeyed,
while Essie watched her brother-in-
law with large, grave eyes betokening
inward surprise.
At the end of a week, Mr. Martin
addressed his sister-in-law with seri-
Gus purpose.
"Well, Esther" said he, you've
been here week now"
Eyes," said Essie, give been here a
week"
"a week is a good long visit" re-
marked Mr.. Martin.
'Tt's long enough for some things"
said Essie.
"Mrs. Martin thinks she would like
to have you stay" went on Mr.. Mar
ton. after a puzzled glance at the blue,
shining eyes. "And although, of
course every one adds to the expense
in a family like this, I've no objection
to giving you a home, provided you
are willing to earn it by hard work"
"Stopi" cried Essie, jumping up. Il
haven't asked you for a home yet.
And l don't mean to. And you are
only making me the offer because
Doctor Dorian says Ruth will break
down unless she has a strong maid
servant to help her with the house
work. But there is no money that
would hire me to make myself such a
drudge poor Ruth is"
"Hoity-toity!" said Mr.. Martin.
"Young woman, you don't consider
whom you are talking to-"
Eyes, | do" said Essie, with en-
nbasis. ITO a Bluebeard, to a stock,
a stone, a man who Is grinding his
wife's life out on the pitiless wheel of
noney-making. No, I wouldn't live
as Ruth does, not If you would put me
in palace!"