Democratic Sentinel, Volume 2, Number 40, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 15 November 1878 — “THE THREE MERRY OLD MAIDS.” [ARTICLE]

“THE THREE MERRY OLD MAIDS.”

A Tlianksglviag Title. It wins a small, meanly-furnished room, in the fifth story of a third-rate boarding-house in New York city—lirelcss, cheerless and very small—where three young girls, wrapped in shawls, sat by the liigli, narrow window. The youngest broke the silence by saying: “ Grace, I want a new dress, and shall have just $1.63 to buy it with when my weekly wash-bill is paid.” “ Indeed, Kathie; you can afford an imported suit then, 1 suppose?” “ Doubtless,” was the reply to the cynical remark; “ and, Nell needs one just as bad as I.” “ See here,” said the third girl—Nell, bv courtesy —its she took from her pocket a thin, worn portemonnaie, and, unclasping it, shook the contents into her lap; “ one quarter, 3 cents and 7 pennies is the extent of my assets.” “ The quarter is bad,” said Grace, as she gave it ail emphatic twirl on the little stand by the bed. “ Had! oh, Grace, what a comforter! Imported suits and a bad quarter—almost the half of sill I have!” and tears really came to the girl’s eyes. “Such a fuss about a quarter!” mockingly interrupted Grace, “when ' I In l munificent sum of $6 awaits you at the cashier’s desk next Monday.” “ Yes; and $4 of that is for board, GO cents for car fare, which leaves me with sl.4o—to pay the washwoman's bill, buy my noonday lunches, etc.” “Girls, we can’t live in this way. Cannot something be done?” Kathie spoke in a despairing way.. 1 “ Nothing, Kathie. I lay awake half last night—no now thing—endeavoring to financier a way out of this dilemma. My visions of heaven are a place where dollars and cents are unknown, while I think the abode of superlative torment must be paved with them, which poor sinners labor unsuccessfully through sill eternity to pick up.” “Nell, don’t.” Ivatliie’s voice was treni ulcus. “ There, dear, I won’t,” and her sister’s arms were twined around her. “ Grace can afford to be cynical, for she has £8 a week, with an occasional ‘ lift ’ from h‘>r father.” “And, like a prodigal, she spends five for board—the privilege of occupying a room larger than a closet, with a fire in it. though at present it is untenable, as her room-mate has it filled with a bevy of choice spirits who are reading aloud from Mrs. Fleming’s last work.” “ Is there no help?” Katliie’s question broke the momentary silence which had fallen upon the group. “ No, Kathie, we must make the best of it.” Nell’s voice was firm, with a ring of sternness in it. “We must make the best of it. Poor little Kathie, papa’s pet!” And the tone took on a tenderer strain, as she stroked her sister’s hair. “ I don’t mind for myself, but for you, little Kathie. There is only one way in which we could do better. If it was* possible for us to rent a room, wo could live for about two-thirds of what we are now paying, and live better; but a furnished room would cost too much, and we can’t by any means furnish one ourselves.” “ Would you do your own cooking? ” inquired Grace; “ there is scant economy in taking meals out.” “ Yes, certainly.” “ Put that would be tiresome.” “ We could fare better and live cheaper. Cooked meats are comparatively inexpensive, and, though I do not admire baker’s bread, we have to eat it here; vegetables we could cook, and always have some little luxury for Sunday prepared on Saturday eve.” “ Oh, Nell, if we could! ” and Kathie clasped her hands as she looked beseechingly upward. “Kathie’s longings arc always prayers,” ejaculated Grace. “It is sheer nonsense; we work hard enough now.” “ Grace, we work to earn money; but I would work as eagerly to save, and have better food, clothing and warmth for Kathie.” “ Only a little more than a week from Thanksgiving,” sighed Kathie, “and papa used to think so much of that day. He was from Massachusetts, Grace, and you know all New England makes much of Thanksgiving—more than of Christmas. Papa was brought up to and he never gave up the custom. It will be a sad day to us.” The conversation here assumed a desultory tone, and soon Grace Weir bade her friends “goodnight.” Nell and Kathie Grey were sisters of 20 and 18 years. A little more than a year before their father died; they were motherless from early childhood. Mr. Grey, having always lived upon the slender wages of a clerk, left his daughters almost penniless at his death; but a kind friend interested himself in obtaining situations for them in one of our largest dry-goods stores, where they had since remained. Grace Weir had been born and bred in a suburban town, where her father, a manufacturer, had amassed considerable property. But, alas for Grace! her mother died, and, in a short time, a stranger was installed in the vacant place. Grace had inherited a high, proud nature, which her stepmother was determined to subdue. Weekly and daily feuds existed between the two. Grace’s monthly allowance was lessened, then

entirely cut off, for her father was completely under his wife’s influence. In a fit of passion Grace finally avowed her intention of leaving home as soon as she was 18, and her father—in justice to him, be it said, that he keenly felt the necessity for this step—obtained for her the situation of correspondent in a New York house. Chance in the selection of a boarding-place threw these three young girls together. All were earning their subsistence —all mourning the loss of parents—and a fellow-feeling was the bond knit between them. That night Grace, like Nell, lay awake to plan. She went tb her friends’room the previous evening, intending to tell them of her good fortune, that they might rejoice with her; but, after the conversation we have recorded, could not do so. She had that day received a letter from her father, containing a postal order for $35, with his usual apology—“a little unexpected money came in, and, though her mother did not approve of her having much to spend, fearing it might lead her into extravagance, he thought she might like a warm cloak and a new dress for the winter. Let him know the letter of that date was received; she need not refer to the money.” The result of Grace’s thoughts were

apparent, as she sprung from her bed, and, hastily striking a match, drew forth paper and pen and wrote the following: Wanted.— An unfurnished room in a respectable locality suitable for housekeeping. Kent low. Address “ Self-help,” Herald office. “ There! no new cloak or dress now. •Father’s gift, as well as the $8 I have saved, must go for something else,” she said, as she turned down the light. After dinner the next evening Grace tapped at the door of Mrs. Williams’ room, an invalid lady boarding on the first floor of the same house, and on admittance asked if Mr. Williams would do her a favor. His business obliged him to pass the Herald office. Would it be too much to beg him to take an advertisement for insertion in Sunday’s paper, and stop the next evening for replies ? “Lost your situation, Miss Grace?” was the quick inquiry.” No, sir.” “Not a matrimonial? I won’t help you if that is it.” Grace deliberated a moment, then said: “ I may as well take you into my confidence. Maybe Mrs. Williams will tell me if my scheme is too wild.” And she told the story; the conversation she had held with Nell and Kathie the previous evening; that Kathie was not strong, needed more nourishing food and- a warm fire, and how opportune her father’s gift seemed. Tears stood in Mrs. Williams’ eyes ere the recital was finished, and hearty cooperation was promised. A large package of letters was brought Grace on Monday evening, answers to her advertisement, and her friends, the Williamses, kindly lent their aid in deciding which seemed most desirable. The next morning Grace begged half a day’s respite from business, and started out to examine the rooms. Good fortune aided her. She found a large, sunny room, on the third floor of a well-kept house, with two ample closets. The rent asked was sls a month, payable in advance; but Grace found the landlady so motherly in appearance that she instinctively related the circumstances to her, and the sympathetic German woman reduced the price to $3, weekly. Mr. Williams suggested* the purchase of a stove and table; but I >ed and bedding Grace declared should be new. Tlio stove was bought for $6 —a real bargain they told her. Bed and bedding for tliq two sisters reduced Grace’s money from $43 to s2l. A table in good condition, but second-hand, was bought for $3; then there were chairs, cooking utensils, dishes and coal to be purchased; and the lounge for Grace, with window-shade and carpet, seemed distant indeed. But ingenuity came to her assistance in planning the last, and her landlady aided the first necessity by offering for her use an old, well-worn sofa that had stood in her store-room for two years past. The cover was in tatters, but the springs were tolerably good, and certainly it was better than the floor to sleep on, especially as there seemed little prospect of a carpet at present. However, a suggestion from Mrs. Williams set her on the right track there. She purchased a sufficient number of yards of the poorest quality of unbleached muslin to cover the entire floor, pasting it on. This took an entire evening. The next move was to select a heavy wall paper of large figure. As the walls of her room were white, no pattern or color chosen could conflict with them, and the next evening this was pasted over the muslin. Mr. Williams volunteered to varnish it when thoroughly dry, and the evening lie was thus occupied Grace made long curtains of common brown cambric, stitching, with the aid of Mrs,' Williams’ sewing machine, bands of bright yellow upon them. A loose covering for the lounge was also fashioned from the same materials. Cornices for her window she could not buy, and time was not at her command in which to manufacture them. But she consoled herself for the yet bare look of the room by remembering that it was much pleasanter than the one Nell and Kathie then occupied. Grace intended a surprise for the sisters, and so told them of a new boarding house she had found, where they " could obtain better board than they had at present for a dollar a week less. They were eager to make the change, but Grace stubbornly refused to give them further information, except that they would have to share a room with her, and offered, if they wished, to engage board for the ensuing week. Planning to give them a pleasant Tlrtmksgivmg day, she laid in a tiny stock of groceries and a turkey, determined herself to roast it, and, though grumbling at her work, she was now thankful, for the first time in her life, to the stern stepmother who had thoroughly drilled her in all household tasks. Mrs. Williams volunteered to tell their present landlady of the proposed change, and she performed her work so admirably that, instead of being offended, the woman was pleased at Grace’s independence and generosity and promised to send over a couple of pies for a start in housekeeping. Mr. and Mrs. Williams invited themselves to partake of the first dinner; and when Nell and Kathie, having sent their trunks over by an expressman, rang the door-bell and introduced themselves as the Misses Gray, for whom Miss Weir had engaged board, they noticed a queer smile flit over the face of the girl who answered their ring, as she told them to walk right up to their room, third floor, front. Up they went, and, opening the door, an odd scene presented itself. Grace, the queenly Grace, was kneeling in fronj; of the cook stove, with flushed face, endeavoring to baste a refractory turkey—refractory, because she had not properly trussed it, and one poor maimed limb was sticking out almost at right angles from the body. Mrs. Williams was resting on the lounge, while her husband sat by the window reading his morning paper. Nell and Kathie were not the only ones who were surprised. Grace found a low seat by the window, manufactured from a shoe-box, neatly covered with a remnant of the cambric she had left in Mrs. Williams’ rooms; and also a tablespread of brown leps embroidered on

the hem with yellow worsted in a showy pattern, and lambrequins of the same material, exactly matching her curtains in color. Poor little Kathie almost dissolved in tears, while brave Nell, who was too proud to usually appear aught but indifferent, laughed and cried by turns. It was a cheerful party that gathered around the table that day; and, although the turkey was not properly trussed, and had a severe black bum on one thigh, and the squash was watery, they all pronounced it the most delicious dinner of which they had ever partaken, voting the pies Mrs. Williams brought over the very best that Mrs. Klipp ever had made. * It is two years this month since the first Thanksgiving dinner was eaten in that little room, and the same three girls yet occupy it. This year they intend to celebrate their anniversary by the purchase of a new all-wool carpet, their joint savings. The old sofa is replaced by a comfortable bed-lounge, and new dresses are even now being made for the trio. Best of all, Kathie’s cleeks have grown rosy and plump, and they call themselves the “three merry old maids.” Nell bids fair todevelop into a first-class business woman; while Grace’s father, on his stolen visit to the city, was informed that his daughter was worth more to her employers than all the male correspondents they ever had. —Chicago Cosmopolitan.