News and citizen. [volume] (Morrisville, Vt. ;) 1881-current, 1922-05-24
HOMEGROWN Domestic
Science
By
MARTHA BAYARD

MARTHA BAYARD
Just as we drove into Bartlettsville
that warm, spring afternoon, the car,
which had been limping all the way
from the Junction, gave out COM
pletely, and the obhging young Irish
man at the garage said the repairs
would take several hours. AS l
noticed the name over the village
postoffice | remembered that Aunt
Mari Stedman, of whom | had heard
so much from my friend, Mrs. Fisher,
lived only few miles away at North
Bartlettsville. How / wished the
hating Ford had managed to get
that far! Perhaps then | could have
seen Aunt Mari for myself, and
heard about her rheumatism and her
adopted" school teacher. However,
there was nothing now to do but
make the best of it and
making the best of it in BartletSs-
vile seemed to be to find comfort
able sunny corner on the long porch
of the tavern, fronting the main
highway, and watch for whatever
action or interest the scene might
present. The big houses stood quiet
and silent, behind their closed win
'dows and drawn shades, with only an
occasional friendly cat, purring in the
sunshine, to show any degree of life
about them. AS | was idly rejecting
on how many unused rooms there
must be in these rambling, struggling
New England houses, with the chill
dren of each generation scattering far
and wide over the land, | suddenly
recalled Mrs. Fishers telling me that
Aunt 'Mari's favorite niece, Miss Ann
Stedman, lived in Bartlettsville. The
sleepy clerk in the office confirmed
this, pointing out to me the large,
three-storied red house, cat-a-cor-
nered from the tavern, where Miss
Ann lived alone. At least I'd always
been told she lived alone
but as | looked again at the old
house it seemed all alive with it's
open windows and lifted shades (the
sunshine pouring in quite unre-
bukedD and yes, surely.
there were three or four little girls
swinging their school books on
leather straps, saunterine boldly in
the front door. | looked at my
watch There was plenty of time to
make myself known to Miss Ann.
I heard the nurmur of childish
voices as l pulled at the old-fashioned
bell + and then, what was
this lin Bartlettsville? Down the long,
steep stairs came prim little girl.
who greeted me shyly as she opened
the screen door, with the politest
eyes, Miss AIMS at home. Will you
walk into the parlor, please?"
I was wondering if Miss Ann had
adopted a whole orphan asylum, when
in she came, and as l could still hear
young voices and the patter of small
feet through the house, | got up
almost at once after giving my name,
protesting that wouldn't stay, she
must be busy.
She laughed and said, "no, this
isn't parlor day, and Mrs. Warren
is in charge, so I've lots of time"
. "Parlor day = y Mrs. War
rem in Charge" repeated after her.
"But before you explain what you
mean, tell me little first of Aunt
Mari, as we all call her, through
Mrs. Fishers stories of her. ,
"Aunt Mari will explain parlor :
day all right" she answered. "You
see, it was this way: End of the
winter term, when they gave the chill
1ren few days vacation, the school
teacher went home to see her folks,
and Aunt Mari came over here, be-
fore beginning her own spring work.
Seems as if she couldn't talk bout
anything but that school teacher she's
adopted, and her district school.
You'd have thought she was the
whole State Board of Education. She
wen missed the Burrit children, the
mes from back in the hollow, that
stays at her house stormy nights;
md had an awful lot to say all the
ime about the big houses here, with
10 one much in 'em. | guessed she
lad something in her bonnet, and one
lay as she watched the girls who
hadn't anything to do during their
-acation but hang around the post
flee and the depot out it
anne. She wanted me to let 'em
ome here, here, mind you, in the ,
unused rooms of my house, and be
aught some of the things about ,
,eeping house those girls ought to I
now, whether they work in the fac
DRY (as so many of their mothers do,
o they don't have much chance to
how the girls at home), or teach
or just marry a good I
| said how on earth could
hey do it? | said l wasn't strong
nough to have those girls traipsing |
Ill over my house 4 SAID,
must l run a kindergarten But
here's no use in standing up against
Aunt Mari when she gets bee. She
lad the idea all worked out, she and
Ter school teacher between 'em, regu-
ar chart system. The girls should
ONE, after school hours, two or three
afternoons a week, and only out of ,,
he seventh and eighth grades after
IL. She said the noise and work
would do me good, and my house,
90, but she wanted the towns
women to help. They've all kept