1899 
THE RURAL NEW-YORKER 
615 
A Bargain in Dress Goods. 
The last of the load had been bundled 
on to the wagon, and little Jed stood 
holding the horse, which was a bit im¬ 
patient. 
“You won’t forget, will you, Father? 
We really ain’t got nothing to our 
backs, and it’s a disgrace. I’ve made 
over till there ain’t anything left to 
make over, and I ain’t got nothing but 
what I’ve got -on, ’cept my black dress, 
and the girls are all worse off yet. And 
Susie hasn’t been to Sunday school for 
three Sundays ’cause she don’t look de¬ 
cent, and her teacher's been here in¬ 
quiring. It’s kind o’ mortifying.” 
Mrs. Hollis’s voice was full of apology 
as she accompanied her husband down 
the gravel walk. He scowled but made 
no reply as he took the reins from Jed 
and sprang into the wagon. 
“You must get something for the girls, 
anyhow,” his wife’s voice insisted as he 
drove away. 
He gave the lines a yank. It was ex¬ 
asperating to have to be bothered with 
women and their fixings. He didn’t see 
why they didn’t look well enough. Of 
course, they weren’t dressed expensive— 
it wasn’t proper that farmers’ families 
should be—but there wasn’t any need of 
making such a fuss. 
The Sunday school teacher had been 
there? He remembered her. She al¬ 
ways smiled at him and made him won¬ 
der to himself if he were such a bad- 
looking chap after all. 
Well, perhaps he had better get some¬ 
thing for Susie. This last crop was an 
extra heavy one, and he had made a 
good deal out of it, and so he might as 
well be generous and get all his wife 
asked for. There was nothing stingy 
about him. No, Sir. 
He smiled complacently as he drove 
into the village. 
“You can’t say but what I’ve done the 
handsome thing by you this time,” Mr. 
Hollis remarked proudly to his wife, as 
he threw down a heavy bundle at her 
feet, and watched her as she knelt down 
to open it. 
Her eyes glowed as one knot after an¬ 
other gave way. It was a long time 
since she had undone a store bundle. 
She did not want to be in too much of a 
hurry to end the expectancy, and dis¬ 
close its contents. 
“Seems to me you ain’t in very much 
of a hurry after wanting it so bad.” Her 
husband’s voice was a bit aggressive. 
She hastily slipped off the last string 
and pulled off the wrapper. 
The children crowded around her. 
“Isn’t that fine enough to suit you?” 
Mr. Hollis chuckled exultantly as he 
leaned over, and catching hold of an 
end, unrolled yards and yards of stout 
cotton. It was a bright yellow ground 
with a black figure running over it. 
“Latest pattern,” he exclaimed with 
pride. “The girl called it palm-leaf, but 
I told her ’twas crook-neck squashes or 
1 was no farmer. So I bought the whole 
piece. Thought I might just as well, 
and I got a good bit knocked off. 
“Don’t you like it, eh?” abruptly, 
glancing at the downcast face of his 
wife. “It was dreadful economical, you 
see, ’cause when one dress begins to 
wear out, you can mend it with another, 
and so keep things going pretty well. 
And there won’t nobody else have any¬ 
thing like it, ’cause that is all there is. 
“Great scheme, that.” 
He chuckled again hoarsely to himself 
as he stamped away. 
She didn’t seem a bit grateful. It was 
provoking. 
The following Sunday, the entire Hol¬ 
lis family appeared in church. 
Mr. Hollis had gone early that he 
might see a neighbor about haying the 
next morning, and as he stood with a 
group of men ana boys about the church 
door, he was suddenly conscious that i-e 
men were losing interest in his account 
of a certain sharp transaction whereby 
he had been, the gainer. 
He turned. His family was entering 
the church. Mrs. Hollis and the four 
girls led the way. They all wore their 
new dresses. They were made exactly 
alike. The three boys followed. 
A soft laugh floated across the vesti¬ 
bule as they passed into the church. 
“All off one piece,” a woman’s voice 
whispered. “Don’t they look too much 
like a charitable institution?” 
There was a chorus of giggles. Mr. 
Hollis strode into the church, and 
glanced hastily at the boys. They were 
just settling themselves into the family 
pew. There was no crook-neck squash 
pattern visible on them. He breathed a 
sigh of relief as he walked up the aisle. 
The sermon was unusually dry that 
morning. Or possibly, Mr. Hollis’s mind 
was not upon it. Almost unconsciously, 
from the corner of his eye he could see 
the five figures in their yellow gowns. 
Ella’s was becoming. It just suited her 
dark hair and red cheeks, but poor Susie 
looked sick and thin. He had never be¬ 
fore noticed how peaked the child was. 
It must be she was not well. His heart 
hardened with indignation at his wife 
for not telling him. A man ought to 
know about his own family. If she 
needed a doctor he guessed he could 
afford to have one. He wasn’t a poor 
man. He never begrudged his family 
anything! 
He glanced at Sarah. She was the 
oldest. Her eyes were downcast and her 
cheeks a vivid red. Mrs. Hollis was 
looking at the minister. Little Bessie 
had fallen asleep and her yellow shoul¬ 
ders rested in Ella’s yellow lap. 
His eyes wandered beyond to the other 
women in the congregation. There were 
the Summer boarders in all sorts of 
light, fluffy things, and the farmers’ 
daughters in white or blue or pink, or 
even black. He never noticed until now 
how nice a woman looked in black. He 
must buy his wife a black dress next 
time he went to town. She didn’t need 
it, of course, but it was just as well 
sometimes to give women folk things 
they didn’t need. It humored them. She 
used to be a very pretty woman, but 
somehow to-day she looked terribly old 
and faded. 
He wouldn’t forget. 
The next day the yellow dresses ap¬ 
peared again. So on for a week. 
One morning, Mrs. Hollis explained. 
“I hope you don't think I’m extravagant 
a-wearing our new clothes all the time,” 
she ventured. “But really we ain’t got 
anything else. We’d just got reduced to 
rags, and them I had to take for clean¬ 
ing cloths just as fast as I got the 
dresses done. 
“There was enough for two dresses 
apiece for the girls, so they have some 
a little mite pore fancy for Sunday 
wear. It seems to be real good-wearing 
stuff, and 1 guess it won’t fade much.” 
Her voice seemed far away. He was 
staring hard at his plate. It seemed to 
have a running pattern of crook-neck 
squashes. 
Mr. Hollis did not attend church next 
Sunday. He pleaded a sick horse for 
excuse, and retired to the barn, from 
whose cobwebbed window he saw the 
family depart, all save Sarah—she had 
refused to go. The laugh of the girl 
last Sunday echoed in his ears, and he 
shut his teeth hard. 
“It’s good-wearing stuff,” he muttex-ed 
to himself as he vindictively kicked a 
keg. 
The third Sunday, Mr. Hollis had 
business out of town. 
“I really can’t attend to it any other 
time,” he explained to his wife. 
She, Bessie and the boys attended 
church. They were all at supper when 
he returned, anu he took his place 
quickly at the table. 
Suddenly his eyes rested on Jed. He 
MOTHERS.—Be sure to use “Mrs. Wins¬ 
low’s Soothing Syrup” for your children 
while Teething. It is the Best.— Adv. 
seemed to see something familiar. He 
rubbed his eyes and looked again. It 
was a blouse covered with the palmleaf 
pattern. 
His knife and fork fell with a thud. 
“Go and take that thing off!” he com¬ 
manded, in thundering tones. 
Jed looked scared and half arose. 
Then he looked helplessly at his mothei’. 
“He hasn’t got any other,” she whis¬ 
pered in an awed voice. “He spoiled his 
only other one yesterday when he got 
caught on some nails, and I couldn’t 
mend it nohow. I sat up late to make 
this out of a breadth from Sarah’s dress. 
Hers got terribly burned somehow.” 
There was a short silence. Jed stood 
holding on to his chair uncertain, Sarah 
looked at her plate, Bessie’s blue eyes 
peered startled over the rim of her mug. 
Mr. Hollis moved uneasily. He open¬ 
ed his mouth to speak. Then he shut 
it again, took up his cup and drank a 
long swallow of tea. 
“I wish,” he said, speaking in a loud 
voice and looking past his wife out of 
the window beyond—“I wish you would 
take all that stuff away and never let 
me see a mite of it again. I’m sick of 
it.” 
“They are good-wearing dresses,” she 
began. “It seems a waste-” 
Her husband brought his list down so 
that the dishes rattled. 
“Waste be hanged!” he shouted. He 
put his hand into his pocket and drew 
out a roll of bills. These he shoved 
across the table to his wife. “I’ll hitch 
up in the morning, and you can drive 
over and get what you want,” he said, 
as he pushed back bis chair and started 
for the door. 
“I s’pose I can use it up in dusters,” 
his wife ruminated to herself. 
“No!” The command came swift and 
steim from the doorway. 
“No dustei’S, no—no nothing. I’m sick 
to death of crook-neck squashes.” 
He slammed the door behind him, and 
bolted through the shed. In his haste, 
he upset a Darrel. Out from it rolled 
the torn, cut and bui’ned l’emains of 
Sarah’s dress. 
“I don’t blame her one mite,” he 
chuckled as he vindictively kicked it 
into a dark corner and sent an old boot 
flying after it. 
“Durn the pattern.”—Harriet Caryl 
Cox, in Chicago Record. 
B * D 
. « D. 
white goods under price 
—good goods—money’s worth so 
extraordinary, as will pay people 
to buy lots of. 
White Dimities 5c. yard. 
White P. K.’s 5c. yard. 
White P. K.’s 10c. yard. 
White Organdies—checks and 
stripes—10c. yard. 
Other choice white goods in 
this special-price sale—15c., 20c., 
25c., 35c. yard. 
Send for samples. 
Closing out lot of 12J^c. pretty 
wash goods—neat colorings, 6 Y\c. 
—goods most every home has 
uses for, and to get them half- 
price is important. 
BOGGS & BUHL, 
Department C, 
ALLEGHENY, Hm. 
$2.45 buys a Rt tt E BOD? Baby Carriage 
32 page Catalogue Free. Wo Pay Freight and sit ip on 10 
days trial. No money required i n advance. Address 
VICTOR MANUFACTURING CO. 
Dept, 11 iG, 1 Gi to 1GZ Ply mouth PI., Chicago,111. 
MODELHOUSE 
Is kept in model order by a model housewife — she cleans 
the dishes and kitchen utensils, cleans the floors and windows, 
cleans everything cleanable with 
G°Jasf 
Washing Powder 
quickly 
dirt or grease. 11 makes everything shine 
like new. It does the work in half the 
time, with half the labor and at half the 
cost of soap or any other cleanser. 
For greatest economy buy our large 
package. 
The N. K. Fairbank Company 
CH1CAQO 
ST. LOUIS 
NEW YORK 
BOSTON 
—Put on in 
One minute. 
No Sewingf 
| Fits any, 
r Frame.^ 
V? 
;Y 
non 
e Jones Umbrella ‘ Roof “ 
Cover Your Own Umbrella 
Don’t throw away your old one—make it new for $1.00. 
Recovering only takes one minute. No sewing. A clumsy 
man can do it ns well as a clever woman. 
UNION Jp 
TV^silk 
AdjuslableRoof 
THE JONES MULLEN CO., 396-398 Broadway. New York. 
WHAT TO DO.—Take the measure tin inches! of your old umbrella. Co nt the uuiuhcr of 
outside ribs. Stale if the center rod is o - steel or wood. Full instructions for putt ng on the cover 
will be seut. with all orders. Our special price-list of different sizes and qualit es in tiled on request. 
Send for our free hook. * Umorella Economy,'’ anyway. Your umbrella will wear out some day, 
and you will be glad that you know about 
TEN DAYS’ FREE TRIAL. 
Send us H I and we will mail you, PRE¬ 
PAID, Union Twilled Silk, 2(i-ineh 
“Adjustable Roof” (28-inch, HI.25; 
30-inch, HI.50). If the “Roof” is not all you expected, or hoped for, return 
AT OUR EXPENSE, and get your money' Imck by return mail—no questions 
asked. 
