Waterbury evening Democrat., 1907-10-26

Ilolll luCluS lllt SctlluS sun. Across the road, now an Smu.sS kle deep in June dust, was the wreck of the Peters place-back broken roof, crumbling chimneys, shut ters hanging down like broken wings, the old house had the pathetic appeal of shipwrecked gentillty. A house without people in it, even when it is in repair, is as forlOrn as a dog who has lost his master.
 Up the road were more houses of the thcr for comfort nor looks. Cod knows why they built such houses! Perhaps it was in accordance with the old Puritan idea that any kind of i physical perfection is blasphemy. Some of these were kept in paint and will dow glass, but there were enough poor relations to spoil the effect.
 i Down the road between the arches of the weeping willows came first the brook, with the stone bridge-this broken as to coping and threadbare ill general--then on the hither side of the way some three or four neigh bors' houses and opposite the black smiths shop and postot1ice, the latter of course in q store, where you could buy anything from stale groceries to shingles.
 In short, Fairfield was an eastern i village whose cause had departed, a community drained of the male prin- ciple, leaving only a few queer men, the blacksmith and some haltling boys ! to give tone to the background of doz- ems of old maids.
 An unsympathetic stranger would have felt that nothing was left to the Fairfieldians but memory. and the sooner they lost that the better. Take q wineglassful of raspberry vinegar, two tablespoonfuls of sugar, half a cup each of boneset and rhu bard, q good full cup of the milk of human kindness, dilute in a gallon of water and you have the flavor of Fairfield. There was just enough of each ingredient to spoil the taste of all the rest.
 Miss Hattie rested her elbow on the railing her chin in her hand, and gaZed thoughtfully about her. As a matter of fact, she was the most in spring thing In view. At a distance of fifty yards she was still a tall, slen- der girl. Her body retained the habit as well as the lines of youth, trick of gliding into unexpected. pleasing at titudes, which would have been awk- ward but for the suppleness of limb to which they testified and the uncon- sciousness and ease of their irregular ity
 Her face was a child's face in the cnnobling sense of the word. The rec ord of the years written upon it seem- ed n masQuerade-the face of clear eyed girl of fourteen made up to rep resent her own aunt at fancy dress party; face drawn a tritlc fine, a lit tie ascetic. but balanced by the hu- nor of the large. shapely mouth. and really beautiful in bone and contour, the beauty of mignOnette and doves and gentle things.
 You could sec that she was thirty-1ve in the blatant candor of noon, but now, blushed with the pink of the setting sun. she was still in the days of the fairy prince.
 Miss Matties reverie idled ovCr the year upon year of respectable stupidity that represented life in Fairfield, while her eyes and soul were in the boiling gold of the sky glory. She sighed.
 A panorama of life minced before Miss Mattie's mind about as vivid and full of red corpuscles as a Greek fricze. Her affecticnate nature was starved. They visited each other. the ladies of Fairfield-these women who had rolled on the floor together as bahies-in their best black or green or whatever 1t might be. and gloves this though the summer sun might be hammering down with all his might And then they sat in q closed room and talked In a reserved fashion which wHs entirely the property of the call. Of course one could have a moments real talk by chance meeting and there were the natural griefs of life to break the corSets of this etiquette. although fin general the griefs seemed to he long drawn ont and conventional af- fairs. as if nature herself at last yield ed to the systerA. conquered by the invincihIe convcntionality and stub bornncss of the ladies of Fairfield. It was the unspoEen but firm belief of each of these women that q person Of their circle who had no more idea of responsibility than tO drop dead on the public road would never go tO heaven
 Poor Miss Mattie, Small wonder she dropped her hands. sat back and wondered. with another sigh. if it were for this she was born. She did not reteI-there was m violence in her but she regretted exceedingly. Tn spite of her sIeuderness it was a wide mother lap in which her hands rested. an obvious cradle for little children. And InstfnctiveIy # would come to you as yCu looked at her that there could be no more comfortable place for 6 tired man to eO-ne bone tn than q hOUsehoid presided ever by this slow moving. gentle woman.
 Therp was nothing Olf 1aEdish about Mics SIattie but fire tale of her years. She had had offers. szFcll az Fairffah sni vbcf1itv ronld boast and deCIinei them with tact and the utmost Erati- tute Co the Suito- fo- the compliment. ]