The Village Sensation.

Cromwell Argus, Volume XXXV, Issue 1929, 20 March 1905, Page 7

The Village Sensation.

BY ANNIE HARTMAN._»T.

When the Widow Merriweather ap« Retired in the village of Rossmerc and routed a cottage for the summer she made several bad mistakes. Firstly she did not go about from house to house giving her identity and producing . certificates of character ; secondly, only the agent of the house knew how long she had rented it for and how much rent she paid ; thirdly she would not give an interview to the village newspaper, and public curiosity as to the number of dresses, the value of her jewels, the size of her foot and the the age of her terrier dog was baflled. There were fourthly, fifthly and sixthly mistakes, but they need not be explained. It is sufficient to say that by the day the widow took possession the entire society class of Rossmere was in rebellion. It was declared and not combated that the newcomer must be strange and sly to thus keep her business to herself. She even brought a strange cook and a strange maid with her, and the two were as close-mouthed as the widow. When the cook went to the butcher.'s after steak and the butcher asked how long Mrs. Merriweather had been a widow, how old she was and if she had lost any children by death, and ninety-nine other questions on the open-door order, the cook simply answered everything in a bunch by saying that she wanted the steak cut thick. It was even worse with the maid. One day when she was shaking rugs in the back yard Mrs. Allison sent her daughter Sarah through a hole in the back fence to draw her out. Sarah made an excuse about the escape of her pet rabbit and proceeded to pump. She got as far as the thirty-sixth question, and then discovered suddenly that she was alone in the yard. When Mrs. Calkins, president of the United Woman's Loyal League volunteered to make a business call on the widow it was felt that the mystery would be solved. Mrs. Calkins was not only president of the U. W. L. L. but she had the news of the town at her fingers' ends. She was known to be the champion pumper. No woman in the burg ever made over a jacket, skirt or hat, had a spat with her husband or spanked one of her children that Mrs. Calkins didn't possess herself of all the details, even if it consumed weeks of her valuable time. There was a smile of self-confidence on her face as she knocked at the door of the cottage. The widow was at home, Mrs. Calkins introduced herself as the wife of the "tax collector, insurance and real estate agent, dealer in brick and lime, and legal contracts drawn up on short notice," and then presented 'her card with the name of the.League printed upon it. To her surprise the widow didn't wilt ; she wasn't even astonished. She demeaned herself as if she had been in the habit of meeting famous people zvery day in the year. Before Mrs. Calkins could ask a question, Mrs. Merriweather requested to know the object of that seven-league organization, ft had an object of course. All organizations, societies, orders and leagues have an object. The query was totally unexpected, however, and Mrs. Calkins couldn't answer it. She shuttled and stammered and rose l up and sat down, but the object refused to reveal itself. The widow suggested that it might be an organization to extend sympathy and aid to friendless and homeless cats, but this idea didn't help things at all. Then in the politest way she hinted that she would like to be informed of the object of the call. If there was no particular object in the formation of the TJ. W. L. L. there might be one in the president's call. Mrs. Calkins was sure there was, but she found herself unable to state it. Never in all her life had her thoughts gone woolgathering in such strange fashion. She didn't oven try to pass it off as a social call. She just blushed and stammered and wished she was a hundred miles away, and finally got out of doors with a loss of all her dignity. Ten minutes later, as a natural result she was the maddest woman in the State, and thirsting for revenge.

Three days later the widow went wandering by herself in the village cemetery. There were eyes watching her. It was a desperate defiance of social etiquette on her part. Women have been known to wander into a cow pusture to pick daisies or down to the bridge to watch the minnows swimming up and down, but as for 'walking in the cemetery, it was an act to outlaw her from the best society. And as if wandering from grave to grave hadn't settled the widow's social status inside of 20 minutes, she actually met a man and talked with him ! It was only old Mr. Jones, a man of 65 who had buried his wife six months before, and was now planting a rosebush on her grave, but if the widow would meet one man in the graveyard, wouldn't she meet another ? Mrs. Calkins had been hanging on to herself and waiting her opportunity. It had come. No sooner had her eyes beheld Mrs. Merriweather walking among the tombstones than she called an indignation meeting. With the aid of Mrs. Allison, who had never forgiven the snub to Sarah, and of Sarah herself who was always ready for a row, society was summoned to meet together the next afternoon in Mrs. Calkins' parlour. It met and the number was 12. The president of the U. W. L. L. who had by this time remembered the object of the organization presided. She went over the case like a lawyer. She spoke of the secrecy of the arrival ; the evident desire for seclusion ; the obstinancy of the servants in refusing to state how often the sheets on the beds were changed, and finally came down to what she characterised as " the most gigantic crime of the Nineteenth Century." That was the graveyard business. She, with tier own ayes, had aftea the jridaw.

walking and talking, but as one of her eyes had a slight squint. : to it she wouldn't trust to them. She'd call in witnesses—living witnesses, breathing proofs. She had a witness at hand. For an hour she had had old Mr. Jones locked up in the kitchen. He was now ushered in with due ceremony and proper dramatic efTect, and though not put on oath, he was warned that the slightest evasion would upset any hopes of his ever being an angel. " Yes, I'll tell the truth," he said as he looked around and sought to stouten his heart. ' I was up in the graveyard yesterday, and when I got to Hanner's grave I had to cry." " But we don't want to hear about that," said the president. " But Hanner was a good woman, and only two days before she died she said to me, says " " Pass on, Mr. Jones," commanded the president. " While you were at your wife's grave a woman approached you ? " " Yes, she did." " It was the Widow Merriweather" "By gum, it was ! I've said the truth and I'll do it if it kills me." " Well, the widow approached ? " 4* She did." " And when she reached you she halted ? " " Stopped right dead in her tracks." "And then what happened?" asked the relentless president amid breathless silence. " She up and spoke to me," replied Mr. Jones. " Ah ! she spoke to yu ! Ladies, you hear the admission. Mr. Jonea was weeping over his wife's grave, and the widow spoke to him. Now then, give us her exact words." " I'll do it. She asked me if I had lost my wife, and I said yes. She said it was too bad, and I said I was ready to foiler Hanner any day." " But the cdnversation didn't stop there, Mr. Jones. Don't attempt to keep back anything, because we are determined to know the whole truth. What else did she say ? "• " Wall, if I must tell you, I will. She said that death was bound to come to all, and that she hoped me and Hanner would be jined in Heaven With that she moved on and I cried more and planted the rose bush and that's all I kin say if you keep me here for a week." Mr. Jones rose and departed. There was only a slight sensation. Even Mrs. Calkins had to admit that to herself. An indignation meeting had been called, however, and something ought to be done. She was about to suggest a vote oi censure at least, when the minister called. He had come straight from the widow's. Without any pressure at all she had given her former residing place, the date of her husband's death income and expenses, and had satisfied him that she was eminently respectable and belonged to the highest circles in Chicago. It was his Wish that they should call upon her in a social way and give her welcome. He didn't know the object of that indignation meeting, and after a while went away to leave it in a somewhat embarrassed state. Some suggested this and some that. The loss of her dignity rankled in Mrs. Calkins' soul and she couldn't readily forgive, but at last she saw that it was to her interests to make what politicians call a flip-flop. " Ladies," she began, as she rapped for order, " It may be just possible that we have been to impetuous, although we have had excuses for it. We are not the people to do a fellow-woman an injustice. If there is any doubt she may have the benefit of it. I would suggest that the 12 of us call upon her in a body, and that our future course b6 guided by her replies to our interrogatives. All in favour will hold up the right hand." All right hands went up. Every woman in the crowd was just dying to get a sight of the widow's parlour and meet her face to face. The procession moved and in due time the house was reached. The maid seated the jurers in the parlour and retired with their cards, and while she was absent Mrs. Calkins prepared an alphabetical list of questions to be asked. After an interval the maid returned bearing a card vi'ith a message written thereon It was handed to the president ot U. W. L. L. and by her read aloud to the rest of the jury. It said : " Mrs. M. feels herself highly honoured but is not at home to C.

Mrs. D. Mrs. E," and so on clean down to the last. They looked at each other and pinched themselves. It was no dream. The maid smiled and bowed and held the door open and the crowd filed out. There wis no comparing notes at the gate—no convention on the nearest corner. No one had a word to say and everyone was in a hurry to get home and as old Mr. Jones looked over his gat« and watched the dissolving he wiped a tear from his eye and whispered to himself : " Wall, now, but by gum, I'm glad on it ! "