Juliet signal. [volume] (Juliet [i.e. Joliet], Ill.) 1844-1???, 1863-11-24
and were always supposed to be her favor

lite grand-niece'
Nothing. Charles2 You forget the
huge old work basket, with its rusty shears,
and steel thimble, and ball of wrinkIed
waxp
We'll. that amounts to nothing, unless
indeed you could sell the working imple-
ments for old iron,' said Charles laugh
ing.
Agnes then shook her head with a
smile.
No, l shall never sell anything that
belonged to dear, funny old Aunt Hepsi
bah. shall keep the basket, not because
of its intrinsic value, but because it was
hers
i lave heard said Charles, taking
the completed boquet from Agnes's lap,
and disposing of it with lovely ostentation
in the buttOn.hnle of his coat. of legates
discovering broad gold pieces in secret
crannies of work-boxes, but unfortunately
yours in basket. I'm afraid, Agnes, that
Aunt Hepsy only wanted to give you hint
on the subject of industry when she be-
queathed you those rusty shears?
Nonsense, said Agnes. laughing. But
she stood on tue threshold long time gsz
in after Charles Dennison, as he walked
slowly down the road. under the green,
Overbangipg boughs of the wayside
elms.
Dear Charles = she unused, 'is it not
hard, that be should be obliged to work so
constantly, when others revel in luxury p
Butt am wrong to complain; how many
girls mourn their dearest ones dead upCn
the Southern plains, while my lover is safe
at home. Poor lame Charlie, if l could
only suffer fer you! .
She stood moment, musing, and then
aroused herself determinedly, eXclaiming,
half aloud:
i know what will do for Harry, poor
fellow! / will knit him a pair Of those old
fashioned cotton stockings that Aunt Hep
sy always said would out wear a dozen
wooden affairs. twill keep my fingers
busy, and perhaps still the wanderings of
my mind. don't think have quite fOr>
gotten the art Of welding the knitting ee
dlesp
The old farm house garrett! Have our
readers ever passed beneath the shadow of
its dreamy precincts ? The massive brown
rafters Overhead-the little crescent-shaped
windows just beyond the brick chimney,
where our eye roves over the Summer land.
scape. stretched out IN sunshine savory and
Tue OeanS-a00
the worn trunks and boxes piled against
one another. like pilgrims whose journey
Is done. SoDehcw there was an atm0s-
phere about this silent garrett that made
Agnes Miller feel as if she were breathing
the influence ct hall century back-as if
she were an intruding ghost on the hush of
the past! But the cracked mirror i,,,anine
against the chimney, reflected the image Of
very pref niue ghost, with pink calico
dress and cheeks to match, whose small
feet battered on the messy shingles above.
10 the days of April AMI violets
There the knitteO needles lay in the
great wicker basket. which with all Its con.
tents, useful or otherwise as Aunt Hep.
sy's will said. was bequeathed to Agnes
Miller. They were rusty end discul1red
but Agnes knew that she could easily rub
them bright; so she took the basket in her
hands. and trip2ed away down stairs sing
ing softly as she went.
There was a window Just in the angle of
the staircase, whore Aghess loved to sit
a WINDY looking down into the green will
derness Of a mamOthsweet- bTiar bush, whose
spicy odors rose up like column of 10
cense in the Summer air. There Agnes
established herself for her afternoons task;
and there matronly old lady, capped and
specialized, found, her, about FIVE minutes
later.
Why, Agnes, child. what are you do
Jog I?
4 am going to knit a pair of cotton
stockings for my.p Harry, mamma
See =
Mrs. Miller looked through treacher
rus mist that swan before her eyes and pro.
nuuuced that the cotton was about the
right size Then she settled down, a stair
or two below her daughter, Ostensibly be.
cause it WAS a eoul place where she might
pick over her baFket Of ruby red eurrants,
freshly gathered from the bushes-in real
ity, to talk about Harry, with Agnes for
al audiencei
These mothers how lovingly ther treas
ure pp the abtent ones in their very heart
of hearts!
Agnes was fastening on her taper waist
the strange old silver knitting sheath, set
into diamond shaped piece OF blue bro
cade, long since faded into dim indistinct-
ness. that had once been the pride Of Aunt
Hepsy's heart.
why, mamma. how strange! The needle
will not run 10 the sheath !"
Perhaps it is broken suggested Mrs.
Miller
No. it is aot. think something must
be 10 the sbeath-it seems to be obstruc-
ted
Agnes unfastened it as she spoke, and
examined the small tube closely.
1T looks like brown paper, rolled up very
tightly mama. Please lend me pin to
take it OUT
Mrs. Miller leaned over her daugbter'g
shoulder, and took up the tinty bit Cf pa
per that dropped from the sheath, while
Agnes composedly secured the small impls-
meDt 10 its place again.
Agnes, my lOve-eurely my eyes do not
deceive me, old end dim though they are
growing = exclaimed Mrs Miller. Tell me
what this lisp
And Agnes saw that the despised piece
Of paper was bank note for one thousand
dollars
Poor old Aunt Hepsibab-no earthly
persuasi ms had ever induced her TO patro
nize savings banks or inVestments! But
when her will was made, she beoueathed
the wicker basket to Agnes, her favorite
niece. having intended to reveal II her the
secret Of the silver. But the dAath blew
came suddenly. as it always will, prepared
for 1t as we may be, and the old lady had
died and made no sign!
Mamma J said Agnes, when their 6rst
establishment bad subsidized into something
like calmnese. / have read of things like
this in fairy books of Wild romance, but
never dreamed that such an adventure
could happen 50 to meP
Little Agnes. you have yet to learn that
truth is sUmetimes far stronger than fc-
toni
The whip poor-will was singing in the
fringe of woods and bordered the mou n taiu
pastures, aud the dew lay heavily Oh the
white lilies by the garden fence. when
Charles Dennison came up to the old doors
stone, where Agnes was generally tending
her border Of pansios at that hour. She
was there, Ill blooming in her pink dress.
| and ready to welcome him with Q soft, little