Democratic Sentinel, Volume 12, Number 14, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 27 April 1888 — He Was a Good Provider. [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

He Was a Good Provider.

BY MRS. W. E. SMITH.

When Katie Watson became Mrs. Deacon Lee, everyone said what a good match she had made; for the Deacon was an honorable, upright man, pleasant, kind and generous; and in addition to this, was owner of the best farm for miles around, including a large piece of woodland. So, as everyone thought of him as a

model husband, they never dreamed of attributing the care-worn look that grew on Katie’s face to any fault of his. How could they, when she, loyal little woman, always spoke of him with so much pride and respect that the -village gossips could find nothing of which to complain. Even close-mouthed Jones, the grocer, said he “never see so good a provider as the Deacon was.” Perhaps, he might have thought differently, if he had heard a few remarks Mary Ann Hoolihan made, when, after working at Deacon Lee’s a couple of weeks, she announced her intention of leaving. “Shore it’s a good missus ye are, mum, an’ every thing is plisant an’ foine like around; but me repititation as cook is what Pd not like to be losing; there’s many a place where the master has since enough, savin yer prisence, mum! to know it takes wood to build the fire, an’ not say till ye, ‘I guess ye can be pickin’ up something to last ye the day,’ when iver ye Speak of the want of a stick for the day’s bakin’. But don’t worrit yourself Pll be spakin’ of it outside, for it’s many a kind word ye’ve given me, an’ Mary Ann Hoolihan niver’ll forgit that same.” And she was as good as her word. Ko one but Katie's half sister, Jessie, suspected that there was any reason for her leaving. After that Mrs. Lee did her own work, and never complained to the Deacon, who, always finding his meals well cooked, never inquired how they became so; and, as time rolled on, his confidence in her ability to “pick up some pieces ’round the yard” grew so great it seemed to have crowded all knowledge of the use of an axe out of his head; for, beyond drawing up a lot of old rails, when he put in his new wire fences, he left the getting the wood, as well as building the fires, entirely to Katie. People driving by admired the wellkept yard, and said to each other what a neat man Deacon Lee was, to keep every chip and piece of wood picked up —never dreaming how Katie searched for every stray bit that might make kindling, dodging behind shrubs, or into the house when she saw a carriage approaching, for fear the occupants would see how she was employed, and censure the Deacon for his neglect. “Great things from little causes flow, ” and so it was that the Deacon owed his reformation to a call made by Jessie and a friend one cold day in spring. The fire got low and Mrs. Lee, excusing herself for a moment, left the room, leaving her little three-year-old jgirl in Jessie’s care. The child played

about the room for a few moments, then, taking hold of the window-sill with her chubby hands, raised herself up and looked out “Ma's tuttin wood,” she said, as Jessie looked at her, “she’s tuttin wood!” Miss Davis was talking and did not notice; but Jessie did, and the words confirmed a suspicion she had had for some time. She found it hjrd to be entertaining until Mrs. Lee came back, and, after replenishing the fire, renewed her conversation with Miss Davis. Jessie seemed very much occupied with her own thoughts next day as she went about her work. At last a gleam of mischief came into her eyes, and she seemed to have arrived at some settled determination, for, as she hung the last piece of her snowy ironing on the clothes-bars, she brought her small foot down very emphatically and said: “I’ll do it if 1 ever have a chance.” Her chance came that haying-time. Deacon Lee had a nice lot of hay to put in, and, as it was the fashion there for the farmers to change work, he concluded to have a bee. Accordingly, he asked a number of his friends to come, and made arrangements for a big day’s work. But when he returned to the house, after mowing a roadway to the north meadow, he found that Mrs. Lee had been taken suddenly iIL The doctor was hastily summoned, who said it was necessary that the patient be kept perfectly quiet—must not be worried about anything—or it would result in brain fever. He left two or three bottles of medicine, and went away again, leaving the Deacon almost in danger of brain fever himself. What should he do ? In spite of his thoughtlessness, he dearly loved Katie, and was very anxious about her now. In addition to this anxiety, were his thoughts of the bee and the care of his little girl and sick wife. What wonder that his face was very grave as he leaned over his wife, asking if there was anything he could do or get for her. He had her welfare too much at heart to say one word that would worry her, so when she began to speak of her work he kissed her forehead and told her that would be all right. But he was relieved when she mentioned Jessie; he went to the window at once, to watch for some one passing by whom he could send word; but, as no one came, he was obliged to have little Trot go for the nearest neighbor to stay with Katie while he went after Jess.

He found that young lady willing to come and take care of her sister; but a look the Deacon did not quite understand, or like, flashed into her face when the bee was mentioned. “I don’t know, John,” she said, “whether I can cook to suit you. You know I am rather particular about what I have to work with, and my way may not be a way you’d like.” Now the Deacon rather prided himself on keeping a well-furnished storeroom and good kitchen garden, so he smiled very complacently and replied that if she was obliged to prepare a different dinner to what she would do at home, for lack of materials to work with, he would be satisfied with whatever she did prepare. It was not until afterward he understood the mischievous look in her eyes, as she said: “You make me that promise, do you?” He answered, “Certainly,” readily enough, thinking, meanwhile, of the excellent dinners he had helped to eat that Jessie had prepared. The dinner bell at the farm-house rang out cheerily at a quarter of twelve next day, and the Deacon, with a satisfied look at the amount of work accomplished, threw down his rake, and, with his men, started for the barn. There he left them to see to their teams, while he hurried to Katie’s room. She was considerably better, and he was feeling very glad and grateful. As he lingered with her Jessie’s voice suddenly called him to show the men to the dining-room. It was very pleasant and cool in the shadedroom, suspiciously so; but the Deacon never noticed that; he led the way to the table, and when all were seated bowed his head reverently; but the-blessing he was about to ask died away on his lips, as his downward glance fell on the dish in front of him, on which was tastefully spread the pork-steak he had bought the night before, and which, the Deacon was horrified to see, was still raw. Farther down the table was a dish of early potatoes scraped and washed ready to cook, kept in countenance By plates of

unbaked biscuit, dishes of raw, green peas, unbaked pies, etc., etc. The Deacon gave one hasty glance at Jessie, toft beyond a grave, anxious look in her eyes, her face expressed nothing of her feelings, as she said: “I have done as you asked me, John : got as good a dinner as I could for youi friends with the materials there were here. If it does not suit you, please remember I am not used to providing my own wood, as Katie is, and this is the best I could do without” For a moment the Deacon was tempted to forget that he was a Deacon and swear; but before he had time to speali Ralph Brooks, a handsome young farmer, whose opinion the Deacor valued very highly, said: “You are fairly beat, Deacon. You’d better give up.” And as the Deacor glanced sheepishly around at the men and saw that they were all beginning to smile broadly, he said: “I reckon I’ll have to, Ralph, and—and—l do give up.” Then he joined in the laugh that followed. Before the room was quiet again. Mr. Brooks, pushing back his chair, said: “Boys, I propose that we get some wood for Miss Jessie to cook this din ner with. ” And the cheerful way ir which they accepted the proposition made the Deacon ashamed of his momentary anger. When, an hour and a half later, they again seated themselves at the table, he was honest enough to acknowledge to Jessie before them all that the lesson had been needed and he would try to profit by it. He did profit by it; for when, a couple of months later, Mrs. Lee was first able to walk out in the yard, the Deacon, with pardonable pride, took her to see a large, new woodshed, well stocked with hardwood and kindling, telling her as they stood there of the way Jessie got dinner for him, and hou sorry he was that the woodshed had not been built years before. A mile or so from the Deacon’s there is a cozy little house where Jessie cooks dinners for Mr. Brooks, and, to his credit be it said, she has never been obliged to try the same experiment with him that she did with her brother-in-law. From the way Deacon Lee laughs with her and her husband about the way she taught him to keep a supply of wood on hand, it is safe tc say he has forgiven her for the lesson.