Fitzgerald leader enterprise and press. (Fitzgerald, Ben Hill County, Ga.) 1921-1964, 1923-06-14

grew grim and dark, as she mended
and patched and turned and dyed and
performed miracles on tough necks of
mutton and cheap curtain materials.
All of it she did with superlative skill
but burning and raging inwardly (and
many times not SO very inwardly)
against the necessity of doing it at all,
and crying out bitterly with many fits
of hysterical tears that she was killing
herself for her family, and nobody
gave her a bit of credit for it.
Oh, yes, everybody lodged when
Aunt Emily hove in view, father as
much as the rest, in spite of all his ex-
tenuations. Whenever we did have to
go there, on unavoidable errands. we
children would stand in the doorway,
and assure her volubly that we
couldn't come in, because our feet
were muddy. This brought about the
desired result of being told severely
to hurry along then, and not get the
whole house cold, with that door stand.
ing open.
Then came the climax in their mis-
fortunes, as if they were not already
sufficiently singled out for misery.
Uncle Charles fell on the stairs. and
hurt himself terribly, threw several
vertebrae out of position, 1 believe, SO
that he lay almost wholly paralyzed
from the waist down. And not a penny
Of savings to pay the doctor, not even
for the grocer's bill at the end of the
month. 1t was disaster, absolute black.
irreparable disaster. Aunt Emily was
stunned into silence, dreadful gray
silence, as of some one whose grudge
against fate is rising to mania. Ire
member hearing father say to mother,
after he came back from his turn at
spending night of care for Uncle
Charles, I'm afraid of the woman, 1
positively am. She looks as though
she'd go mad" well, it's not out of
sympathg for her poor husband, that's
sure" mother answered acidly.
What do you suppose was the result
OF that terrific accumulation of emo
ton in Aunt Emily? What was the
momentous, tremendous decision to
reach which, in 1885, it was necessary
for her to rise to that pitch of frenzy?
Why nothing more nor less than this
and in those days it was a de-
clSion both mOmentouS and tremen-
douS for any married woman with chill
dren she put on her bonnet,
yes, bonnet, it was in the last days of
bonnets, when only young girls wore
hats and marched down town
to ask for work in Emery's Emporium.
She got it, of course. Even if it had
not been Aunt Emily, the humane head
OF the firm would have felt under some
obligation to the wife of faithful en-
ployee of such long standing. And in
addition to this, it was Aunt Emily
of course she got what she
went after.
she was put well, / don't
know that l ever heard just in what
small corner she was put at first, as
an experiment; something easy and
simple to suit her supposed inexperi-
ence of business and her supposed
AhNdplSAly lOI lie Lie liz Ut
home was organized somehow, any
how, as best they could with different
cousins taking turns to go in and help
out with the work. Uncle Charles did
not suffer any pain, and was quite
himself as far as his head was con-
cerned, his body like log in the bed,
but his eyes bright, his fine sensitive
face pale, but calm and philosophic as
always. He was quite able to direct
the children as they dressed and un-
dressed themselves and studied their
lessons and learned to do the house
work.
AS Uncle Charles got better so that
he could sit up in bed, things ran more
smoothly. His bed was moved down
to a corner of the dining room, where
he could look into the kitchen. He
could work with his hands now, which
he had always loved to do, and they
were never still from morning till
night. My father gave him a wheeled
tray which was always piled with
work, done or to be done. He did all
the mending and darning and he and
Phoebe did the cooking and the Ritch-
en- work together. The children all
brought their school books to their
fathers bedside and Ibid" their les
sons there, to running accompani-
ment of such sympathetic, helpful COM
ments from him, as they'd never
known before. BY mid-winter of that
year, Uncle Charles was well enough
to sit in a wheeled chair, which Aunt
Emily bought out of the first raise in
her salary, and presented proudly to
him on Christmas day. After this, he
was all over the house at once, active
and cheerful.
He always sat beside Phoebe, as she
practiced her music lesson, to listen,
to play the bass in simple duet, and
to teach. My mother says she never
saw a child get forward with her mu-
SIC as Phoebe did, after her father be-
gan to teach her. In no time she was
playing tie accompaniment for his
light. clear baritone, and then the little
house rang with music like a shell
With the mgrnur Of the sea. We all
used to love to go there, as soon as
school was over to "have a concert"
Sometimes they sang Scotch airs
the tears we have shed over
"Loch LOmond" the zest for battle
poured into us by "Scots wha' haze; or
it might be Irish, how we have
laughed over "Father O'Flynn," and
yelled out the chorus Of the "Cruis-
Keen Bawn"; or negro There
never was anybody who could sing
irif oIeD Tho TIno1a Cho ,lob Oh