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"Love is not love Which alters when it alteration finds, Or bends with the remover to remove." If the Cabbage Patch had pinned its faith upon the efficiency of the matrimonial agency in regard to the disposal of Miss Hazy, it was doomed to disappointment. The events that led up to the final catastrophe were unique in that they cast no shadows before. Miss Hazy's letters, dictated by Mrs.
He's went to sleep with all his clothes on 'crost my bed, an' I can't git him up." Lovey Mary tucked Tommy under the cover and went to Miss Hazy's assistance. "One night I had to set up all night 'cause he wouldn't git up," complained Miss Hazy, in hopelessly injured tones. Lovey Mary wasted no time in idle coaxing. She seized a broom and rapped the sleeper sharply on the legs.
The room was brimful and spilling over: trash, tin cans, and bottles overflowed the window- sills; a crippled rocking-chair, with a faded quilt over it, stood before the stove, in the open oven of which Chris's shoe was drying; an old sewing-machine stood in the middle of the floor, with Miss Hazy's sewing on one end of it and the uncleared dinner-dishes on the other.
"And cloudy the day, or stormy the night, The sky of her heart was always bright." "It wouldn't s'prise me none if we had cyclones an' tornadoes by evenin', it looks so thundery outdoors." It was inconsiderate of Miss Hazy to make the above observation in the very face of the most elaborate preparations for a picnic, but Miss Hazy's evil predictions were too frequent to be effective.
She wanted to stop at each cottage and tell the good news; but her time was limited, so she kept on her way to Miss Hazy's, merely calling out a greeting as she passed. When she reached the door she heard Mrs. Wiggs's voice in animated conversation. "Well, I wish you'd look! There she is, this very minute! I never was so glad to see anybody in my life!
It's beautiful goods, Lovey Mary. I'm goin' to make it up fer her by a fancy new pattern Asia bought; it's got a sailor collar." "This here is for Chris," continued Lovey Mary, slightly depressed by Miss Hazy's lack of appreciation, "and this is for Mrs. Schultz. I bought you a book, Mrs. Wiggs. I don't know what it's about, but it's an awful pretty cover.
Tears were in her eyes, and her lips trembled. There was a queer little spasm at Lovey Mary's heart. The canker-worm was dead. When a carriage drove up to Miss Hazy's door and the driver carried in a pale girl with a bandaged head, it caused untold commotion. "Do you s'pose Mary's a-bringin' home a smallpox patient?" asked Miss Hazy, who was ever prone to look upon the tragic side.
"For one, I'm willing to take a rest after eating, and then take the afternoon for getting acquainted with this pretty grove." "We won't quite do that, either, if I have my way," Prescott laughed. "We ought to do a few miles this afternoon, but not set out to do any record-breaking or back-breaking stunt." "There goes hazy's dream up in the air," laughed Greg.
When a certain course of action was once understood to be the proper thing, every resident promptly fell in line. The victim of "celebrated concussion" was overwhelmed with attention. She lay in a pink wrapper in Miss Hazy's kitchen, and received the homage of the neighborhood. Meanwhile Lovey Mary worked extra hours at the factory and did sewing at night to pay for Kate's board.
"There is in the worst of fortunes The best of chances for a happy change." "Good land! you all're so clean in here I'm feared of ketchin' the pneumony." Mrs. Wiggs stood in Miss Hazy's kitchen and smiled approval at the marvelous transformation.
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