Washington standard. [volume] (Olympia, Wash. Territory) 1860-1921, 1908-03-27

y n ISIS MATTE sat on her little
M front porch. facing the setting
sun. Across the road, now an
kle deep In June dust, was the
wreck Of the Peters place-back
broken roof. crumbling chimncys. shut
tiers hanging down like broken wings.
the old house had the pathetic appeal
Of shipwrecked gentility. A house
without people IN 1t, 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
nondescript village pattern. made nei-
Their for comfort nor looks. God
knows why they built such houses!
Perhaps 1t was in accordance with tho
old Puritan idea that any kind Of
physical perfection Is blasphemy Some
Of these were kept In paint and WIN
dow glass. but there were enough poor
relations to spoil the effect.
Down the road between the arches Of
the weeping willows came first the
brook. with the stone bridge-this
broken rs to coping and threadbare
In general-then on the hlther side Of
the way some three or four neigh
bOrs' houses aud opposite the black
smiths shop and postoffice, the latter
Of course In n store, where you could
buy anything from stale groceries to
shingles.
In short, Fairfield was an eastern
village whose cause had departed, q
community drained Of the male prin-
ciple. leaving only few queer men,
the blacksmith and some halfllng boys
to give tone to the back ground Of doz-
ems Of old maids.
An unsympathetic stranger would
have felt that nothing was left 10 the
Fairficdians but memory, and the
sooner they lost that the better.
Take Il wineglassful of raspberry
vinegar. two tablespoonfuls Of sugar,
half cup each Of boneset and rhu-
bard, Il 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 Matte 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 distance
Of fifty yards she was still tall, slen-
der girl. Her body retained the habit
as well as the lines Of youth, n 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-
seriousness and ease Of their irregular
ity.
Her face was a child's face In the
ennObling sense Of the word. The rec
ord Of the years written upon 1t SEEM
ed masquerade-the face Of q clear
eyed girl Of fourteen made up to rep
resent her own aunt at a fancy dress
party; face drawn trifle 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 see that she was thirty five
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 Mattie's rcverie idled over 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
frieze. Her affectiOnate nature was
starved. They visited each other. the
ladies Of Fairfleld-these women who
had rolled on the floor together as
babies-in their best black or green or