The Hancock Jeffersonian. [volume] (Findlay, Ohio) 1857-1870, 1868-07-31

lS.-eiA ScAOASes Will
circular cape of thesame, stepped ou
'Iof one of the last cars, by the aid o
Ian iron headed cane. Her bonne
curiously bent and crumpled, barely
covering ahuge frilled cap; she wor'
a bright brown wig, set little awry
over her forehead, and massive greer
Ispectacles set astride Of her nose
while brown cotton gloves adorned
her hands, and green umbrella
carried under the arm, threatened
with its brass ferule, the eyes ol
whosoever was rash enough to crowd
her movements in the rear.
"Aunt Feny's self, as ! live and
breather' echoed Bruce Montmartin
|"Charlie, if l were you I'd run fol
|iti"
t'Drop her in the gutter and make
|off with yourself P' suggested another
young exquisite, superciliously strok-
ling down his moustache. la
But Charles Early had too many
gentlemanly instincts to pay any heed
to the waggish hints of his compan-
ions. He stepped forward, chival-
trously. f
5''Allowme to carry your basket for
lyou, ma am - said Charles. 81 am
the brother in law of your niece, Mrs.
Early.' { :
"Oh you be, oh ?'' croaked feeble
voice, from under the cap frills.-
Well, you may take my umberil, and
my basket, and here's paper o'gin-
ger-bread I fetched along for lunch,
and a bottle of root beer Farmer
Jenkins wife sent me-it's dretful
good for pimples, and sich-and I've
got stripid bag, some'ers, with the
key tied on with a bit O. red tape
and here's the brass tickets for the
trunks, checks the fellow called 'em,
if remember rightly"
ats all right, ma'am, l assure
you," said Mr.. Early. "Step into
the carriage; will see that your
things are brought here directly"
"What be them fellars laughin' at?'
demanded Aunt Feny, stopping short,
with one foot on the carriage step,
and glaring at Messrs st. Everil,
Montmartin & Co. through the green
spectacle glasses, 81 guess I'm as
good as they be, if amt dressed in
the very last agony of the fashion
I've got ten dollars sewed up in my
flannel waist, over and above my
travelin' expenses, and I'll 60 bail
it's more than they've gotr'
A suppressed laugh here ran thro'
the little assemblage of spectators on
the platform. -
"DO not let their folly annoy you,
ma'am," said Early, pleasantly. "Let
me assist you into the carriage. st.
Everil, stand back!'' he added, stern
ly, ''if you have no reverence for old
age or womanhood, 1 willsteach you
to respect my right hand. This lady
is under my protection, you will
please to remember" ~
= Mr. st. Everil retreated, somewhat
upon his companion
toes, and the old lady climbed chuck
ling into the carriage.
"Young man. she began, when
the umbrella, lunch-paper, basket and
bottle were safely slowed away, and
they were rolling rapidly over the
city streets, "you'ye got good deal
of moral courage. 'TaInt every city
sprig would be as polite to a old
creetur as you've been, with all them
noisy fellers pokin' fun &C you"
Our hero was somewhat embarass-
ed at this plainly spoken compli-
ment.
81 hope, madam" he said, 81 shall
never be found lacking in the essen
tial qualities of gentleman, in what
ever circumstances l may be placed.'I
The antique dame nodded her cap
frills, and held silently on to her um-
brella, without venturing any other
until they reached Mrs. Rob
art Early's mansion.
Josephine was waiting for them,
on the threshold; she clasped her
ancient relation closely in her arms,
and there was q sort of triumphal
procession up to her apartment, which
Charles was rather at loss to un-
derstand. 1a
'sOne would think Josephine never
had had an aunt, fresh out of NOah's
ark before,' he muttered to himself,
as he took up the newspaper, and
went out 70 the vine-shaded back
piazza, there to while away the time
until such period as lunch should be
"Charlie p
He had exhausted the paper long
ago, and nearly fallen into q doze
but at his sister in laws summoning
voice, he started to his feet and en-
tered the house.
'sAunt Stephanie wants to thank
you for all your kindness to her this
said Josephine.
"Confound. Aunt Stephanie" tho't
Mr.. Early, advancing drowsily to-
wards the front room, where, in q
sort of artificial twilight, produced
by satin curtains and Venetian blinds,
he could dimly descry a figure.
Suddenly Josephine drew back the
draperes, and there, in
stead of a bent and crooked old
woman, stood lovely girl of eigh
teen, with deep blue. eyes and golden
curls, set off by white muslin dress,
with an abundance of floating blue
ribbon looped and knotted about it.
"Stephanie Osborne - he ejacu-
lated, instantly recognizing his fair
of the seaside.
.Ne-my Aunt Stephanie!'' = inter-
rupted Josephine, demurely.
"What mystery is this p demand
ed Early, looking with apuzzled face
from one to the other. "Are you
81 am the-veritable old lady of the
railroad train p laughed the golden
haired lassie, with a becoming glow
of color in her cheeks. "Do not look
50 astounded, Charles. Josephine
really, is my niece, only as her moth.
er, my sister, was married. before ]
was born, she is just ten years older
than am!' .ta.
eyes, but why" aa- aa-
"Why did l assume that odious
disguise, you would say2 just to
try your sterling worth and native
chivalry, Charles. / somehow fan
cied that the young man who was
polite and attentive to q bent old