Democratic Sentinel, Volume 2, Number 8, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 5 April 1878 — AUNT CALISTA’S HAIR. [ARTICLE]

AUNT CALISTA’S HAIR.

“Splendid I” “ Magnificent!” “So long!” “ So thick!” “ And soft!” “ And glossy!” “The loveliest brown!” “ With just a tinge of gold !” “ And it waves so sweetly!” It was Edna and Alice Bristol who were praising their Aunt Oalista’s hair. AuntCalista “ pished” and “pshawed!” and begged them to hush; but it was evident, after all, that she was pleased at their enthusiastic praise of what was her only positive attraction. An attraction of which she, poor soul, had been heretofore but dimly conscious, for all her life, thus far, had been so occupied in caring for others that she had-notime to think of herself, whether she were a fright or otherwise; though a fright she certainly was not, for her complexion was fair and clear, and her expression was one of great sweetness and intelligence, too, so what matter if her features were not all cast in beauty’s perfect mold. A quiet, sober, and, at times, a sorrowful existence had been hers since her earliest girlhood—she was now bordering upon old-maidenhood—when, for several years, she was almost the sole nurse and companion of an invalid mother; and then, later, when death had removed from her clinging arms this loved charge, her father was stricken down with an incurable and lingering disease, and she was kept a close but not unwilling prisoner by his side for many more long, weary years, until now he, too, was mercifully taken to rest, and she had come to make her home, for a while, with an only sister, who had married and removed far from her native place many years before. This sister and her two young daughters were gay and fashionable, and it seemed like being in a new world to her, quiet old maid as she was, and she kept within the seclusion of her own room as much as her lively nieces would allow her. Do not imagine, though, that she was either awkward or vulgar, for she was nothing of the kind. Her father had been a man of high mental culture and refinement, and the few friends who visited him occasionally during his long illness were gentlemen’of like tastes and advantages ; besides, too, she, with him, had been a constant reader of all the standard literature, as fast as it came before the public; so that, although dre&ding society, and shrinking and easily embarrassed when compelled to mingle iu it, she was far from being a person of whom her friends need feel ashamed, had they been much more sensitive than they were. “Oh! Aunt Gaily,” pleaded Edna, “do let us dress your hair, just this once. You’ve no idea what a difference it will make in your appearance to have it done fashionably. You might be stylish if you only would. Why, your hair alone is enough to make your fortune !” “ Make my fortune ?” said Aunt Callv. “I don’t understand. Sell it, you mean ?” “Oatah a husband with it I mean,” laughed Edna. “Now, don’t look so horrified, aunty! You must know that every girl and woman wants to do that—catch a husband—whether they will own it or not. ” Aunt Calista was horrified, quite as much as her looks expressed. “Oaten a husband!” she gasped. “Girls of your age talking like that! Why, I thought it was women who were caught if there was any catching in the case, I didn’t know that they hunted or fished for husbands!” “ Well they do, Aunt Gaily,” asserted Alice, she, as well as Edna, intensely amused at their aunt’s “country simplicity, ’ as they called it. Why, half the women here are doing their very best to catch Lawyer Chester BOW.” " The bold, forward tilings !” ex“'vPifd Aunt Calista, in great disgust. ‘ If he has any sense, he won’t have any of them. I hope neither of you are included in the number.” Alice tossed her head with a little sniff saying : “I don’t care for a husband old enough to be my father, if he is rich and popular ; and as for Edna”—with an arch look toward her sister—“ she has her fish already caught; so don’t worry about us; just be nice, and let us braid these beautiful long tresses, and ~put them up high upon your head in a lovely coil, and then you’ll look young and pretty; and you shall catch Lawyer Chester yourself, so you shall, without trying one bit.” . J ° “You make me ashamed, though I know you are only teasing. If I thought you were in earnest I should be angry with you,” replied Aunt Gaily. But the girls had their way with her hair, though they nearly had their labor for their pains ; for when she escaped from them at last, and took a look at herself in the glass, she gave a halffrightened exclamation of, “O, my patience ?” and unconsciously put up her hands fn destroy the wonderful structure thry had built of it. They both flew to the rescue, laughing, and sezing her hands. “ Don’t, don’t, aunty !” they both entreated; and Edna added: “You look splendid ; and you’ll get used to it in a little while; so, now, please put on your most becoming dress, and then, if company calls, you must not run off and bide yourself as soon as the bell rings. You look ever so much like mamma now, only younger, and she’s not

thought to be a bad-looking woman I assure you.” Two hours later, Aunt Calista qame stealthily down stairs with a volume of Bryant’s poems in her hand, and her black straw flat “ upon her face.” She said : “ There was no other way to wear it” She was going for a walk, mainly to escape the company which she was certain was expected during the afternoon. “ Wait a moment, aunty,” called out Alice, who provokingly came through the hall, just as she thought she had escaped the observation of any of the family; “ Wait a moment, and let me bunch up your overskirt a little more. You are determined to ruin all your prospects in life and disappoint the cherished hopes of your dearest friends.” Aunt Gaily laughing eluded her, and, darting through the door, disappeared around the house, and look her way across the. garden and through the meadow to the brook, which skirted its farther edge. She strolled along its bank until it entered a wood, and then for some distance farther, enjoying the coolness, the silence and the restful quiet. . “ Oh, this is lovely!” she said to herself. “And there is just the place I have been looking for ! That spreading beech upon that bank. I wish that clump of alders was not there, though; they hide the brook from me; but never mind, I can hear it ripple, and gurgle, and ‘ babble;’ I believe the poets call it, and that will do quite as well as seeing it” So she climbed the steep bank, and seated herself with her back against the smooth stem of the beech, and, removing her hat, looked about her for a few minutes, and then with a sigh of satisfaction opened her book and read : Here are Been No traces of man’s pomp or pride: no silks Rustle, no jewels shine, no envious eyes Encounter ; no fantastic carvings show The boast of our vain race, to change the form Of thy fair works. But thou art here ; thou fiU’st The solitude. Hark ! Was not that footsteps ? It certainly was; and they, were coming down to the brook. Now she was glad of the alder screen. She would remain quite still, and the person, whoever it might be, would pass on unconscious of qer presence. There he came; she could peep through the bushes and see that it was a man; yes, a man with a fishing-rod—a short, middle-aged man—“ And, of all things ! if he isn’t going to stop right here! Well, this is a situation I I can’t go away. He’d be sure to see me. I shall have to sit still and hold my breath. What if he stays here all the afternoon 1 I hope to goodness he won’t catch a single fish, the brute ! I won’t look at him!” for she had been peeping down through the branches of the alders, while the gentleman was rapidly preparing for his cruel sport. It was rather an embarrassing situation for a timid spinster, to be sure. The gentleman was so close to her that, but for the screen of alders, she could almost have touched his hat with her hand. The alder-bushes were barely high enough to hide her from view, as she sat. The moment she arose she might be discovered. Besides the unpleasantness of the situation, she had a profound horror of fishing. “ I won’t look ! I won’i look !” she said to herself, over and over, and resolutely bent her eyes upon her book. But, try as she might, she could not take the sense of what she read, and could not keep her eyes from stealing glances now and then through the leaves,' down' at the ■nneoneeious figure, sitting so motionless almost at her feet. How absorbed he was ! She could not see his face, of course, for his back was toward her; but she fancied that his eyes were bent immovably upon his line, watching for the least intimation of a bite or a nibble. Before she was aware she, too, began to be interested. Luckily, or unluckily, she could see a bitof the line, just where it entered the water. There ! did it not tremble a little ? No, it was only a ripple in the water that moved it. There, again ! That certainly was something. Oh, dear ! it was too dreadful ! What if some poor little hungry, unsuspecting fish were to come along, and be caught on that cruel hook, deceived by the tempting bait, and she should be obliged to witness the barbarous transaction ? She would not look another second. But, somehow, she couldn’t stop looking, and every minute vibration of the line only increased the fascination, and made her the more anxious for the result. Once or twice tbe. hook was lifted out of the water lor an instant, and each time she almost shrieked aloud.

“If he should bring up a poor little struggling creature, I shall scream, I know I shall,” she said to herself. “It seems as if I must throw something at him, the great awful brute !” She had half risen now, and was peering over the tops of the alders with anxious, frightened eyes riveted upon the line, feeling, as she had just said, as though she must scream, when, all at once, there was a very perceptible pull downward, followed instantly by a most vigorous jerk upward, and she did scream, for good gracious ! what was it tugging at her hair, as though the purpose was to take it all out by the roots ? Her scream brought the gentleman to her side almost instantly. “Good heavens, madam!” he exclaimed, excitedly, “I hope you are not hurt. What is it? Ah ! I see ; my fishhook caught in your hair. How awkward of me I However, be calm, madam ” —this, by the way, was wholly unnecessary, for Aunt Calista was as quiet and composed, to all outward appearance, now as she ever was in hei life—“l can very soon extricate it, if you will allow me.” And, without waiting for permission, with deft and pliant fingers he set about his task, talking volu bly all the while—now a word or two of apology for himself, then a remark upon the beauty of the day, then her book— Bryant was a favorite of his, too—then a compliment to her hair—he wouldn’t have believed it was natural—until, at last, in a tone of satisfaction, and with a little flourish of the hands, “ There we are,” he said, “clear at last!” And Aunt Calista thanked him, without exactly knowing for what, however, and, taking her book and hat, prepared to return home. Half an hour later, her sister and nieces were electrified by seeing her walk shyly into the house, accompanied by Lawyer Chester, for it was he, and this is the way their acquaintance began. How it grew and ripened I shall leave you to guess from this slight bit of conversation which somebody overheard the following Christmas: “It was your hair that did it, after all, Aunt Cally”—it was Edna who was speaking—“and what did I tell you? Didn’t I say that, properly managed, your hair might make your fortune? And hasn’t it? You’ve got a husband, or will have one to-morrow. ” “But please to remember, miss,” Aunt Galista replied, with spirit, “ that I was the one that was caught.”