Democratic Sentinel, Volume 5, Number 2, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 18 February 1881 — A PECULIAR WOMAN. [ARTICLE]

A PECULIAR WOMAN.

“ Ketch hold, Tom. There 1 I declare if you aiu’t spilled about a quart! I knew you would get it too full.” “I didn’t spill more than ten drops, Cousin Silence. How you worry over the loss of a little grease.” “ It’s one of my principles to save, as you might a’ learned long ago. ” “I believe in prudence; but what’s a few drops of lard more or less on this farm, and nobody knows how much in bank ? You skimp and screw as if you think there were danger of your getting on the town.” “Well, you are the frankest young man I ever saw,” and Silence Withers put her arms akimbo and gazed at her young cousin, Tom Lowey, as if he was a curiosity escaped from some museum. “Yes; I was always noted for my frankness,” said Tom', coolly, “and 1 never hesitate to speak my mind when duty urges. However, I don’t want to hurt your feelings, Cousin Silence.” “ No danger,” said Miss Silence, with a laugh of derision. “I am no spring chicken, an’ my feelin’s have grown tough. But the idea of your duty urgin’ you to speak your mind to me! Perhaps you don’t recollect the whippin’s I used to give you. ” “I haven’t forgotten,” laughed Tom. “You used to make me do my duty iu those days. But I wish I could convince you that it would be only a Christian act for you to send a little help to Mrs. Baldwin. You wouldn’t feel the spending of SSO out of your $50,000.” “Massy sakes! It seems as if other folks know more about my business than Ido myself. Filty thousand! Law! Who said I was worth that much ?” “ Oh, it’s common talk,” replied Tom. “Well, it won’t do you any good to talk. You’ll never see the color of my money after I’m dead and gone. I’ve made my will; and. since plain speakin’ pleases you, I’ll make free to say you aiu’t •mentioned in it So, there !” “I calculate to take care of myself,” said Tom. tilting the chair against the wall. “Lave your money wherever you choose ; I don’t want it.” “ The day may come when you will want it, Tom Lowey, and then you’ll be sorry for sayin’ them words. I’ll remember ’em ; so will you when your pride has its fall. There’s plenty of things I can leave my money to; it won’t go begging. ” “I guess not.” “You’d more’n guess if you were to live here a spell and see the stream of visitors I have. There ain’t a day but I get nagged alxrnt my money by somebody. Deacon Bonney thinks it’s his bounden duty to advise me to leave it to found an orphans’ home. Old Mr. Craig wants it left to Wolfboro Academy ; ’Squire Darby has his mind on it for a public library, and the minister thinks I ought to remember what a debt’s on *he church. To hear ’em talk you’d think I had one foot in the grave. I don’t give none o’ ’em any satisfaction, and then they say I’m peculiar. Well, perhaps I am ; but I don’t see no possibility of any change in my natur’.’ Tom laughed. He was spending a couple of hours at the farm, which had been his only home until he began to “ scratch for himself,” to use his gaunt cousin’s expression. Now he never left more than a day or two pass without looking in on the lone spinster to see if he could give her any help, and to-day he was making himself useful in lifting jars and boilers of hot grease on and off the stove, for Miss Silence was trying out lard. “I never promise what I don’t mean to perform,” was the characteristic answer he received to his pleading. “Martha Baldwin and me ain’t been on speakin’ terms for these five years, and I’d be makiu’ myself pretty small to send her Christmas presents. I’d soon be on the town if I began to help all the poor folk you know. It ’pears to me you take a mighty deep interest in them Baldwins, Tom. Melissa Bonney let out a hint that you was a sparkin that Prissy Carroll.” “ I wish Melissa Bonney would mind her own business.” “ Don’t get riled. I dare say it’s true. ‘Twould be like you to court a gal without a penny, because you’ve not a penny yourself. Prissy Carroll’s been raised out of charity by her aunt.” “ That don’t make her less lovable, Cousin Silence.” “Now, Tom Lowey,” said Miss Silence, brandishing the big iron spoon with which she stirred the lard, “ don’t make a fool of yourself over a pretty face. Butter your bread before you eat it. There’s Melissa Bonney, whose father’s worth—” “That’s enough,” interrupted Tom, and, before Miss Silence could stop him, he was out of the kitchen door and ■walked briskly down to the gate. “Law sakes! what peculiar creatures men are ! Talk of bein’ peculiar ; why, I ain’t a circumstance to that Tom Lowey. He’ll marry that Prissy Carroll now, if it’s only to show me he didn’t care for my money.” And, with a sigh, Mbs Silence went back to her lard. “Christmas gift, indeed!” she muttered, after standing for some time in deep thought; “I think I see myself eating humble pie to Martha Baldwin. ” But, somehow or other, her conscience did not feel quite so easy as it had felt before Tom’s call. An hour later Tom was sitting in the Widow Baldwin’s small parlor, with his arm around a very trim waist, and a very lovely golden head resting on his shoulder. It was very evident that the closest economy was necessary with the Baldwins, for the carpet was patched and worn, and the muslin curtains washed threadbare, and the furniture in sad need of varnish and new haircloth. “ I wish I saw my way clear to take you out of this, Prissy,” said Tom, with a sigh, “ but clients are scarce enough in Wolfboro:” “ Now, Tom, where’s the need to worry ? I couldn’t leave Aunt Martha, anyway. We are both young enough to wait” “You’re too good for this world, Prissy,” said Tom, with a kiss on the dimpled white chin. “ There’s some one knocking ; let me go,” cried Prissy, springing up and running to the door. It was no visitor, but the hired man from Miss Silence’s farm, with the spring wagon, which he had brought to convey Tom to his cousin’s home, for Miss Silence had, not ten minutes after his departure, an hour previous, overturned a kettle of lard by accident, and been terribly scalded. “Where’s my hat?” cried Torn, in great excitement, while the man was telling how he had wasted time by go-

ing to the office first, and, not finding -him there, had hunted him up. “Let me go with you, Tom ; 1 know I can help, ” cried Prissy, as her lover was springing into the light wagon. “ Oh, Prissy, if you only would.” “Wait until I get my bonnet and shawl and tell Aunt Martha. I wont be gone a minute,” and Prissy rushed into the kitchen, where her aunt was ironing. . -r. “ Go, by all means,” said Mrs. Baldwin, when she had grasped the meaning of the girl’s incoherent explanation. “ Stay as long as you are needed, and don’t worry about me.” Miss Silence made no remark when Prissy entered her room with Tom. She was in great pain, and was thankful to see even this member of the hated Baldwin family. . . For three weeks Prissy was chief director at the farm, and managed so cleverly that Miss Silence had no chance to find fault But the grim spinster had no word of commendation for the young girl’s untiring industry. “ I calkerlate to pay you for what you have done,” she Kiid one day, as she watched Prissy making bread. “You needn’t think you’re workin’ for nothin’.” “I don’t want any pay, Miss Silence,” said Prissy, with trembling lips; “I am only too glad to do what I can, because—” She hesitated and turned scarlet. “Because you’re in love with Tom,” finished Miss Silence. “Oh, you needn’t blush; I know all about it, and, if he chooses*to break his head agin a stone wall, I ain’t a-goin’ to stop him.” At the end of three weeks Miss Silence was able to be about again, and Prissy went home, declining the S2O bill for her services. But she had not been gone three hours when the hired man came from the farm, with two large baskets, which he sat down on Mrs. Baldwin’s kitchen floor. “Compliments of Miss Silence, and she sent these in place of the money,” and was driving off in the spring wagon before Prissy could recovef sufficiently from her astonishment to ask him any questions. The baskets were full of good things of every sort, and there was a royal Christmas dinner for the Baldwins the next day, much to the joy of the children, who had contemplated, ruefully, dining on mush and potatoes. Prissy sent a note of thanks to Miss Silence by Tom, but she never received an answer. Time moved on, and Tom’s law business improved so much that he persuaded Prissy, against her better judgment, to marry him. Miss Silence did not grace the important occasion with her presence. “ I’ve no time to be gallivanting off to weddings,” was her excuse, when Tom reproached her for this slight. “ She is such a peculiar woman, we must not expect her to act like other people; but she has a good heart in spite of her queer ways,” said Prissy, when Tom tried to make excuses for his cousin’s remissness. “ But her greatest peculiarity lies in her not liking you, Prissy,” said Tom, kissing his bride’s soft cheeks. “And I can’t quite forgive her lack of taste.” All went well with the young couple for more than a year. They began housekeeping in a modest cottage Tom was paving for by installments, and were so prudent that they managed to gather about them many little comforts that made their home pleasant. But fortune seldom smiles long at a time, as we ail know, and reverses will come to every one. One bitter night in December Tom’s house caught fire and burned to the ground, nothing being left except a few clothes belonging to Prissy and the baby.Of course Mrs. Baldwin opened her house to them at once, though it necessitated much crowding. Prissy suggested an appeal to Miss Silence, but Tom emphatically declined to make it. He was far too proud to ask for the help which he thought should have been earnestly offered. His last books and papers had all been destroyed iu the fire ; for he had used a room in the cottage for an office, and getting a living was rather up-hill work. Christmas was dreary enough that year, and even Prissy’s courage sank at the thought of the future. “Tom Lowey will have a chance to show what kind of stuff he’s made of,” said Miss Silence. “He burdened himself with a wife and baby, and he’ll have to look out for ’em. I told him I’d never give him a dollar of my money, and I’ll keep my word, no matter what happens.” Miss Silence had thought herself proof against the weakness of falling ill; but in March she caught a severe cold, and pneumonia ensued. She felt she never should get well again, and the doctor told her frankly that in all probability she would live but a few days. “ I want to see the lawyer at once, if that is the case,” she said. “ I must make a new will. ” Tom’s law practice, as yet, was not very exacting, much to his regret; and he had more time on his hands than pleased him. “But, now, do promise you’ll send Mrs. Baldwin something for Christmas, Cousin Silence,” said Tom, returning to the attack. Mr. Simons, who had managed her business for years, came as soon as he received her message, and the will was made. He hardly left the house before Tom called. “I’m worse,” said Miss Silence, feebly, “but I’m not afraid to go. Perhaps I’m peculiar in that as in other tilings. Deacon Bonney and the minister, Mr. Craig and Mr. Darby have all been here a urgin’ of their several claims. I told each o’ ’em I’d consider the matter. ” “Will they be disappointed, Cousin Silence ?” asked Tom. Poor fellow! he was in such a sore strait that he could not help a desire to have some small help from his cousin’s hoard. He hardly dare hope she had left him a cent, and yet he was her only relative. “That remains to be seen,” was the unsatisfactory reply he received to his question. “ But don’t you cherish no hopes, for I ain’t left you a cent. ” A bitter smile curled Tom’s bps, but he ffiade no reply. “ I suppose you think me peculiar in not leavin’ you my money, seein’ you are the only kin I’ve got,” went on Miss Silence, “ but you’ve taken such precious care to convince me that you don’t want it, that I’ve believed you and acted accordin’.” Tom went home and repeated the conversation to Prissy, who shed a few tears, but tried to cheer her husband’s drooping spirits with hopes of more law business in the spring. That night Miss Silence died, and the whole town turned out to her funeral a few days later. “ I expect Wolfboro Academy will find itself able to erect a new building when Miss Silence’s will is read,” said old Mr. Craig. “She’s told me she’d consider the matter, and I know she was impressed with my arguments. ” “I rather think you are mistaken,” said ’Squire Darby, “for I feel morally certain she has left her money to found a library. ” The minister, who stood near, smiled to himself. He had not the slightest doubt that the debt which hung over hte church like a pall would now be lifted through Miss Silence’s will. Tom did not want to go to the reading of the important document, but Prissy insisted, so they went together, though neither of -them looked very cheerful. Mr. Simons made no objection to the presence of ’Squire Darby. Mr. Craig and the minister chuckled ae Deacon i

Bonney entered with a pleasant smile for Tom, who well knew what sarcastic triumph lay beneath it. The will was dated three days previous, and every penny in the bank, an«l the large farm were left unconditionally to Pressy Lowey. Her husband s name was not mentioned. . Tom’s face was a study, while Prissy almost fainted from the sudden relief to all her trouble. The faces of the other men present were studies, too. The deacon left the house without a word, and the ’Squire looked grimly at Mr. Craig. “ She was a very peculiar woman, ’ said the minister, wiping his brow, on which the beaded drops of perspiration stood thickly. His anxiety about his church had been very great, you see. But Tom and Prissy cotdd afford to forget their dead cousin’s peculiarities, since she had kept her row never to give Tom a cent, and yet had managed to make him comfortable for life. There was an immediate flitting to the comfortable farm-house, and Tom furnished a nice office in town and drove in every morning in the spring wagon. Past troubles and cares were forgotten, the Baldwins were made more comfortable, and, considering all things, Miss Silence did more good with her money than if she had left it to found a library or lift a church debt.