The Talkative Wig | Page 4

O, these were white days for poor Jane. Could I not tell when she was
going to work in this family by the way she threw me over her
shoulders? Did I not feel her gentle heart beating with unwonted
warmth as she came home from this family before eight o'clock,
accompanied by the truly good man of the house or some trusty person?
When she hung me up in her small bed room, did I not notice her
grateful, happy smile? She felt that she was recognized by these good
people as a sister and friend, and that the words which we hear at
church and read in the Bible, "All men are brethren," were not mere
words with them.
These evenings she would make her small fire, and sometimes indulge
herself in reading a little while; she would go to bed early, and did not
look so pale in the morning.
Had all the customers of cousin Jane been as kind and considerate as
these good people were, she might have lived; and I should, perhaps,
have continued in her possession; but life was too hard for her,-- she
struggled with it for many years, and then her sweet spirit turned
wearily away from it; she grew weaker and weaker, the color grew
brighter and brighter on her cheek, and the light in her eye; she looked
like a spirit; and, ere long, she was one.
My first owner came, as soon as she heard how ill Jane was, and took
her home to this house in the country. Here our good mistress nursed
her poor cousin, and made the last days as happy as she could; but Jane
was weary of this life, and longed for a better one. She passed away as
gently and sweetly as a summer evening cloud or a dying flower.

Our mistress said to her husband, "All Jane's clothes, except this dear
cloak, I have given to the poor. This I must keep myself; for it was one
of my wedding garments, and dear Jane has made it all the dearer to me.
I shall keep it to lend to friends who are caught here in the rain; it shall
be called the friend's cloak, and shall always be kept in the closet in the
hall, close at hand."
Now, I suppose every one knows of how much use such a cloak is in a
family. Never was a cloak more employed than I, and for all sorts of
things. I was used to play dumb orator. I was at every one's service. I
don't know how they ever did without me.
Don't be astonished that I did not wear out; my lining was strong, and I
tell you an old cloak has a charmed life; you cannot wear it out; like
charity, it suffereth long and is kind.
As my dear mistress's children grew up, I was treated very much as you
all have been; that is to say, with no respect at all. What a different life
was mine from that which I led with dear, gentle cousin Jane. Peace be
with her sweet spirit!
One prank which the boys played some years after Jane's death, I must
relate, and then I have done. The eldest, whose name was Willie, took
me, the evening before thanksgiving day, and, having dressed himself
up in some of the cook's dirty old clothes, and hung a basket on his arm,
put me over his shoulders, and I went begging of all the neighbors for
something to keep thanksgiving with. He disguised his voice by putting
cotton wool in his mouth, and I wonder myself how I came to know
him. Two or three boys of his acquaintance went with him, all dressed
as beggars; and a grand frolic they had.
They went to one house where a man lived that made great pretensions
to religion and goodness, but who the boys strongly suspected was not
very compassionate to the poor.
"Please," said Willie, "give us a little flour and raisins for our mother to
make a thanksgiving pudding with to-morrow." His answer was a slam
of the door in his face.

"Let us go to Granny Horton's," said one of the boys; "she has not gone
to bed yet."
"O," said Willie, "you know she has nothing but what mother sends her,
or some of the neighbors. It would be a shame. I carried her a pair of
chickens this morning, and some flour and raisins; and it is a shame to
beg of her, she is so kind. But won't it be funny if she gives us
something, when Squire Marsh would not; at any rate, she'll not slam
the door in our faces. Come, let's go quickly, before she puts out her
little