Aunt Phillis and her Domestic Trials.
knitting around the fireside.
tramp, tramp of the spinners
One blustering, drizzling March night at our home in Alabama the two little daughters of Uncle Ben and Aunt Phillis, who, since their early childhood had been brought up in Mr. G--‘s house as servants, came rushing into our room with the startling intelligence that Daddy's arter mammy; he's got an axe in his hand and says he's gwine ter kill her dis berry night.
Where Phillis was hiding the little girls knew not. She was not in the kitchen, nor in her cabin; neither had she come into the house to her master and mistress.
Her's dodgina 'round to keep out'en daddy's way, the younger of Phillis's girls declared.
We all became deeply interested in Aunt Phillis's troubles, and dropped our knitting and crocheting in severe disapprobation of the way in which Ben was treating his helpmate, and our censure was the more emphasized when we remembered the smutting he ha