Aunt Jane's Nieces at Millville
By good fortune she
found blind Nora hemming napkins and in a mood to converse. Nora was an
especially neat seamstress, but required some one to thread her needles.
Mary the cook had been doing this, but now Mrs. Clark sat down beside
Nora to "hev a little talk" and keep the needles supplied with thread.
She learned a good deal about the nieces, for old Nora could not praise
them enough. They were always sweet and kind to her and she loved to
talk about them. They were all rich, too, or would be; for their uncle
had no children of his own and could leave several millions to each one
when he died.
"An' they're so simple, too," said the old woman; "nothin' cityfied ner
stuck-up about any on 'em, I kin tell ye. They dresses as fine as the
Queen o' Sheba, Tom says; but they romp 'round just like they was borned
in the country. Miss Patsy she's learnin' to milk the cow, an' Miss Beth
takes care o' the chickens all by herself. They're reg'lar girls, Marthy
Clark, an' money hain't spiled 'em a bit."
This report tended to waken a great ambition in the widow's heart. Or
perhaps the ambition had already taken form and this gossip confirmed
and established it. Before she left the farm she had a chance to
secretly observe the girls, and they met with her full approval.
At supper that evening she said to her hopeful:
"Skim, I want ye to go courtin'."
Skim looked up in amazement.
"Me, ma?" he asked.
"Yes, you. It's time you was thinkin' of gittin' married."
Skim held his knife in his mouth a moment while he thought over this
startling proposition. Then he removed the cutlery, heaved a deep sigh,
and enquired:
"Who at, ma?"
"What's that?"
"Who'll I go courtin' at?"
"Skim, you 'member in thet las' book we read, 'The Angel Maniac's
Revenge,' there was a sayin' that fate knocks wunst on ev'ry man's door.
Well, fate's knockin' on your door."
Skim listened, with a nervous glance toward the doorway. Then he shook
his head.
"All fool fancy, ma," he remarked. "Don't ye go an' git no rumantic
notions out'n books inter yer head.
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In a village there lived two men who had the self-same name. Both were named Claus. But one of them owned four horses, and the other owned only one horse; so to distinguish between them people called the man who had four horses Big Claus, and the man who had only one horse Little Claus. Now I'll tell you what happened to these two, for this is a true story.
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