The daily telegram. [volume] (Clarksburg, W. Va.) 1901-1926, 1914-05-05

r was sunday in June, and almost
the whole population Of River
boro and Edgewood Mas walking
. or driving in tile direction of the
meeting house on Tory hill.
Church toilets, you may well be.
lieve, were dificults OF attainment by
Deacon Baxtefs daughters, as they
had been by his respective heipmates
in years gone by. When WaitstIirs
mother first asked her husband to buy
her a new dress, and that was two
years after marriage, he simply said:
'.You look wen enough. what do you
want to waste money on inery for,
these hard times? II other folks are
extrayagant that amt any reason you
should be. You ain't obliged to take
your nefghbors for an example, take
'em for a Warmth -
"But, Foxwell, my Sunday dress is
worn completely to threads" urged the
second Mrs. Baxter.
That's what women always say.
They're all alike, no more idea o. saw
in anything than a skunk blackbirdl
can't spare any money for gewgaBs,
and you might as well understand 1t
first as last. Go up attic and open the
hair trunk by the winder, you'll find
plenty there to last you for years to
come"
The second Mrs. Baxter visited the
attic as commanded, and in turning
over the clothes in the old trunk knew
by instinct that they had belonged to
her predecessor In Office. Some of the
dresses were neat, though terribly worn
and faded. but all were fortunately
far too short and small for a person
OF her fine proportions, Besides, her
very soul shrank from wearing them,
and her spirit reyolted both from the
insult TO herself and to the poor dead
woman she had succeeded. so she came
downstairs to darn and mend and
patch again her shabby wardrobe.
WaitstilI had gone through the same
exhfrieneeta las her mother before her
but In despair when she was seventeen
she began to cut over the old garments
for herself and Patty. MercifulIy there
were very few Of them, and they had
long since been discarded. At eighteen
she had learned to dye yarns with yell
low oak or maple bark and to make
puppies from elder and sumac berries;
she could spin and Knit as well as any
old "aunt" of the village and cut and
shape garment as deity MS the Edge
wood tailoress. but the task of making
bricks without straw was hard one
indeed.
She wore a white cotton frock on
this particular Sunday. 1t was starch
ed and ironed with beautiful gloss,
while touch OF distinction was given
to her costume by little black sleeve
less roundabout made out of the COW
ering Of an old silk umbrella. Her
fat hat had single wreath Of coarse
daisies around the crown, and her
mitts were darned in many places.
Nevertheless you could not entirely
spoil her; God had used a liberal hand
In making her, and her fathers parsi-
mony was a sort Of boomerang that
aew bnck chiefly upon himself.
As for Patty, her style Of beauty, like
Cephas Coles ell. had to be toned down
rather than up to be effective, but cir
cumstances had been cruelty unrelent-
ing in this process OF late. Deacon
Baxter had given the girls three or
four shopworn pieces Of faded yellow
calico that had been repudiated by the
village housewives as not fast enough
in color to bear the test of proper wash
ing. This had made frocks. aprons,
petticoats and even underclothes for
two full years, and Patty's weekly OBJ
jurgations when she removed her ever
lasting yellow dress from the mail
where 1t hung were not such as should
have fallen from the lips OF a dea-
cons daughter. Waitstill had taken
piece Of the same yellow material,
starched and ironed it. cut curvlng.
circular brim from It sewed in a pIait-
ed crown and 10, hat for Patty:
What inspired Patty to put on whist
sibbon OF. deepest wine color. with
little band Of the same on the pale vel
low hat, no one could say.
100 you think you shall like that
dull red right close to the yellow, Pat
tyr" Waitstiil asked anxiously.
eft looks all right on the coIumbInes
in the Indian cei1ar," replied Patty,
turning and twisting the hat on her
head. III We can't get peek at the
Boston fashions We must just find orr
styles where we can"
The various roads. to Tory hill were
alive with vehicles ON this bright Sun
day morning. Uncle Bert and Abel
Day, with their respective wives on
the back seat Of the Coles double
wagon, were passed by. Deacon Baxter
and his daughters, Waitstili being due
at meeting earlier than others BY rea-
son of her singing in the choir. The
deacon's one horse, two wheeled
shay could hold three persons with
comfort on its broad seat. and the
twenty-yearold mare. although she
was always as hollow as gourd, could
generally do the mile. uphill all the
way, In half an hour il urged contin-
ualIy, and the deacon, be At Said. il mot
good at feeding was unsurpassed at