The Mettle of the Pasture

ddle-aged woman with gray ringlets and nervous eyes stepped timorously upon the veranda and watched h

shed its own product. Nearly fifty years of wintry neglect and summer scorching had not availed to disjoin Harriet from organic dependence upon her mother. And of all conceiva

onable profits for the original investors. Nor was it by any volition of hers that she had commended herself to her mother in the beginning by being a beautiful and healthful child: in

y a stone that is not hard enough to resist being highly polished. Harriet's soft nature gave way before the adv

married a second and a third time, with daughters by the last husband who were little younger than her eldest; and she laughingly protested that nothing is more confusing to a wom

glad to embrace such an opportunity; but these less desirable young men failed to take that peculiar view of their destinies. In the meanwhile the Misses Conyers had come on as debutan

and south with half-grown families; and the big house wa

rchase by the unwary. Then she had been marked down as something that might be secured at a reduced price; but intending buyers preferred to pay more. By and by even this label was taken off and sh

er Bible; but it had at least defined for her one point of

e with slights and insults, had put forth some efforts of her own. But it was as though one had been placed in a boat without oars and

orenoon most agreeably. Isabel was upstairs; she would have been perfectly satisfied to talk with her; but for several mornings Isabel had shown unmistakable preference to be let alone; and in the school of l

on the other side of town, Miss Anna Hardage, who lived

enemies. In the front yard she pulled a handful of white lilacs (there was some defect here or she would never have carried white lilacs in soiled white gloves); and passed out of the gate. Her eyes wer

mently. "The same ridicule that has been

r about being an old maid," said Miss

unprincipled place t

age curdling i

ined Miss Anna, stoutly. "By and by we may all be

Harriet, scouting eternity as a

resh from the country, fresh from Ambrose Webb's farm. Besides, you have a dark shade of the blues, my dear; and this r

h two glasses of

to good sense. Her mission in life seemed not so much to distribute honey as to sprinkle salt, to render things salubrious, to enable them to keep their tonic naturalness. Not within the range of womankind could so marked a contrast have bee

. Women not even behind her back jested at her spinsterhood; and when that is true, a miracle takes place indeed. No doubt Miss Anna was a miracle, not belon

ed through a process of healing; and as she handed back the empty glass, she smiled gratefully into Miss Anna's sparkling brown eyes. Nature had been merciful to her in th

"But if there is one thing that can make me angry, Anna, it is the middle-aged, ab

things myself; but what does a woman care whether she is married or not

, who would tell the truth ab

ecause the men knew y

Harriet, "it was becau

ntly. "You mustn't try to palm off s

t it, Anna! I leave that to m

r friend's work curi

r Hardag

e dirt cheap. You might as well go

th holes in them whole again? Why, that is half the work of the world, Harriet! It is not his feet that make these holes," continued Miss Anna, nicely, "it is his shoes, his big, coarse shoes. And his clothes wear out so soon. He has a tailor who misfits him so exactly from year to year that t

riet, embarrassed

na,' he cried, 'where on earth did I get all these new socks? The pair I left in here must have been alive: they've bred like

ectively. "Anna, do you know that I have lived about one-eighth of t

said Miss Anna, artistically,

m as young as I ever was when I'm away from home; but I declare, Anna, there

t way, or I'll have to give you more of the

what I said. Of course you know I never gossip, Anna; but when

to make the most of the compliment, "I am n

long ago. Thousands of worse-looking women, and of actually worse women, marry every year in this world and marry rea

mitted Miss Anna, affably,

not brilliant," conce

er commo

catch any one sa

ace women always make the

porch," exclaimed Miss Anna a little

ed Harriet, musingly. "If my day ever comes,

ogue. "Whatever she did, she did for the best. Certainly it was no fault of yours. But you could get married t

what matters an unbelieving world? Harriet regularly visited Miss Anna to hear these maddening syllables. She called for them as for

and moral burdens, it had at least this redeeming feature: the early Hebrews heaped their sins upon a creature which they did not care for and sent it away. In modern times we pile our burdens upon our dearest fellow-creatures and keep them permanently near us for further use. What human being but has some other upon whom he nightly hangs his troubles as he hangs his different garments upon hooks and nails in the walls around him? Have we ever suspected that when once the ha

friend unless she had promptly detailed every annoyance of her life. She would go home, having left behind her the infinite

ned to the old story of his patient's symptoms, and has prescribed and bandaged and patted and soothed, and has reached the door, turns, an

was at the bottom of h

e trouble, some terrible trouble; and no matter what goes wrong, my mother always holds me responsible.

ent, having closed the

t cont

hings have been happening. You know that Judge Morris has not missed coming on Sunday evening for years. Last night mother sat on the veranda waiting for him and he

ork and looked at Harri

house has virtually been closed to company. Isabel has excused herself to callers. Mother was to give a tea; the invitations were cancelled. At table Isabel and mother barely speak; but when I am not near, they talk a great deal to each other. And Isabel walks and walks and walks-in the garden, in her rooms. I have waked up two or three times at night and have seen her sitting at her window. She has always been very kind to me, Anna," Harriet's voice faltered, "she and you: and I cannot b

y into the library, the windows of which opened out upon the porch. Professor Hardage was standing

get down?" she asked,

nd a sigh and descended. Her anx

gain with her troubles?" he asked. "You po

at I bear! What can

serable, lengthening her life by shortening yours? For these worries always clip the

akes her happier; and as to the end of my

you to some other college

omebody else to confide in; she must tell everything to somebody. But if she told any one els

o listen to scandal in

ways: I merely stop the

ks to such a stream. Still I'm glad that I live

and the other woman does not tell, reme

thing as confidence,"

toward h

he pleaded, "you

ut of them. At best they performed the function of grindstones: they made you sh

se books had a lock and

king mind. And you are not to speak of books as a collection of locks and keys; they make up the liv

t," she remarked with

ing out of the surface which is called History in especial. On each side of that, running to the right and to the left, are main branches. Here for instance is the large limb of Philosophy-a very weighty lim

anywhere," she insisted with her

men have lived on the roots of knowledge, the simplest roots. And here is poetry for dates an

at the

upon the highe

ons. Here is what one of the finest of the world's teachers had to say about justice. Aspiration is at that end. This little book is on the sad loveliness of Greek girls; and the volume beside it is about the brief human chaplets that Horace and some other Romans wore-and then trod on. Thus the long story of light and shadow girdles

him and watched him in sil

he said thoughtlessly

of one hand linger

tam

dinner. Here, turn round! look at the dust! look at this

head over

xclaimed, and ran

e came back and took

r elbow; and she held

him with approval as he sat reading before the boo

the top of hi

ource. Now you propose to let it run down to me-or

his is something you will want to know," a