The Caucasian. (Clinton, N.C.) 188?-1913, 1912-07-04
4 FOURTH OF JULY IN THE
SIXTIES.

Wearing a plain glngnam dress,
blue-and-white plaid shawl, and a
Shaker bonnet Of speckled straw with
a cape of green silk hanging from
the back of it, little figure walked
slowly along the country roadside one
Fourth of July nearly fifty years ago.
1t might have been day in March,
by the way the wind tore around the
corner. as Phyllis Jordan turned it on
her way to the town hall.
The face in the depths of the bon
net wore a pout, and now and then a
tear trickled down the plump cheek
and was lost in the folds of the wool
en- shawl.
What would her schoolmates say
to see her enter the hall in her COM
mon school clothes! Every one dress
ed up when they went = the hall.
But Aunt Ellen had said that she
must wear them; and when Aunt
Ellen "said' things they had to be
done Besides, it was a sort Of pun
ishment, and punishments had to be
endured; but that didn't make you
love the punisher; oh no. Phyllis
was quite sure that she hadn't the
least bit of love for her Aunt Ellen.
Mean old thing! to make her wear
her old clothes when all the rest Of
the girls would be dressed up.
Fifty years ago our country was
in the midst of the Civil War. The
beating Of drums and the waving of
flags were of common occurrence
then in the street of every hamlet
and village, from which troops were
constantly marching to the seat of
war. On this particular Fourth of
July the school children had all been
summoned to the town hall to help
"pick lint and cut bandages for the
wounded soldiers. Phyllis little heart
was full of sympathy for them, and
she was willing and eager to do her
part. But she did want to wear her
new leghorn hat and black silk bas-
quine. An umbrella would keep the
rain off, and all the rest of the girls
would be dressed up, she knew they
would She hated that shawl and
Shaker bonnet anyway, horrld
things! Etha Baker had told her the
last time she wore the bonnet that
Shakers were "going out of fashion"
The wind blew so hard that Phyllis
suddenly closed her umbrella. The
rain quickly soaked through the
| straw crown and trickled down her
| neck.
At hope it'll spoil the oil dthing,"
she chuckled.
BY the time the hall was reached
she was a very bedraggled-looking
little girl.
"It will serve Aunt Ellen right! 1
hope she'll be mortified when she
sees me coming I'M" she calculated
as she dumped up the wooden steps.
She peered into the hall and saw
women busily engaged cutting long
strips of cloth, while the children sat
on settees ranged around the hall
| sewing them together. Some of the
younger ones had pieces of old linen
which they we're picking into shreds.
To her surprise, Phyllis noticed that
they all had on their everyday
dresses.
AS she stood gazing into the hall
her Aunt Ellen came up behind her.
/ why, how wet you are, child;
didn't you have an umbrella?" she
exclaimed as her eyes took in the
rain-soaked figure.
"Yes'm," replied Phyllis, "but the
wind blew so hard I couldn't keep ii
OPEN"
1T never will do for you to stay
here in those wet clothes. You must
go right home and change them.
Don't stand there staring at me-
child; go right straight home! Like
as not you've got cold now!"
Phyllis heart was humping re-
belliously. But when Aunt Ellen
spoke in that tone there was no use
arguing. AS she plodded back over
the rain-soaked road she began to