A Pleasant Visit.

Woodville Examiner, Volume 3, Issue 282, 10 September 1886, Page 2 (Supplement)

A Pleasant Visit.

(From an Old Maid’s Diary.) It is a mystery to me why people will persist in making fun of old maids, and bestowing pity on us, when to my notion most of them should envy us. A short time ago I visited Mr. and Mrs, Brown, who had both been schoolmates of mine. The first evening I noticed the youngest child, aged four years, eyeing me curiously. She acted very strangely about my valise, and once I saw her put her ear down quits close to it as if listening for some sound from within. At last, when she and I were alone, she said—- “ Ain’t you afraid your cats are smothered ? I can’t hear them ‘ meow ’ a bit!” “My cats smothered ! Why, child, what on earth do you mean,” said I. “Why, ain’t your cats in the valise ? Papa said old maids always had half a dozen kitties for pets, and ho said if you brought yours %long I had better net bother ’em or they’d bite and scratch, caus you know I’m always up to some michief.” I assured the child that I did not possess even one cat, and told her that her papa was only joking when he said that. The next morning at breakfast, when Mrs. Brown was pouring the coffee, the little one said —“ Why, mamma Brown, didn’t you make tea for Miss Hopkins? You know papa said old maids always drinked tea.” She was sent from the table in disgrace, but I knew they had been making fun of me before I came. During the forenoon I was in the parlor glancing over a magazine, when I heard the two eldest girls talking in a room near me. The open door obliged mo to hear distinctly, “Oh, my, ain’t she plain? No wonder she never had a chance to marry—dustcolored hair, squinty, greenish-grey eyes, turn-up nose, large ears, and such a mouth 1” said one. Her sister replied —“Yes, mamma says she don’t suppose Jerusha ever had an offer of marriage m all her life, and I think it is no wonder.” Then they both joined in singing “ Poor Old Maids ” in a low tone, and one told the anecdote of the old maid who went out in the woods to pray for a husband, and in response to the owl’s “Tu whoo” said—“Oh, Lord, anybody,” and her sister said it surely was Jerusha who had offered up the petition. I just longed to give them both a good sound shaking. If their mother only knew it, Silas Brown proposed to me first, and if I had not refused him, no doubt she would be an old maid herself. Then at dinner Silas said : “Well, well, how time does fly! You must be getting up in years, Jerusha. Let me see ; you and sister Susan were about of an age, and she was forty-seven years old last June. They do say you have got to be a downright ‘woman’s righter,’ and I suppose you want to vote. Oh well, I suppose it is natural for single women to think about such affairs, for they see a pretty tough time of it with no man to look after their interests. Now Maria, my wife, knows no care nor trouble. Whenever she needs money it comes without any anxiety on her part. I toil for her that she may pass her days in case, or I may say that I protect her from rude contact with the world, as it were.” When he was starting down town Maria followed him into the hall, and I heard her say : “Silas, I must have some more money. There is not enough to meet the bills due now.” “Money, money I Do you think I own a bank? You are too extravagant, that’s the trouble. There’s eight shillings and it is every penny you’ll get this week. Now mind what I tell you,” and he shut the door with a bang. Throe different men presented bills for household expenses that day, and Maria was obliged to tell them she could not settle for a few days. Yes, Silas does protect her from contact with the cold, cruel world, I must say. Marla said to mo during my visit: “Jerusha, you must lead a lonely life. If your hair was not so light I’d think it was badly streaked with grey. I really do not blame you as some folks do for lecturing on Women’s Suffrage, or writing for newspapers and talking politics, though I have always said it really is not a woman’s place to do. these things. Still, you take comfort in doing these things, 1 dare say. Now 1 never think of even reading anything on such sub- ■ jects. I try to keep up the continued stories in the Family Reader , because one must read some, you know, to be. intellectual. I am reading a story now called the 1 Wonderful Hairbreadth Escape and Thrilling Adventures of Evangeline Esmerelda Fitznoodle,’ and it is grand, I tell you. Come into the parlor and see the lovely oleographs I got with that paper.” And this is a fair sample of her conversation. Pity old maids, indeed ! I only stayed one day, and was glad enough to get away from this house, where every member of the family was destitute of a knowledge of the first principles of politeness or refinement. Jerusha Horkins.