The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932, 1871-12-07

INN 10 uhu me III tnt poor-House, lnougt
it's a good home for me; and OWN to Mis-
Sperry' first husband bein' cousin to my
husband, md her Ruth bein' called, like
my Ruth, arter their grandmother, why
il amt ezactly's though was with strange
folks, you see.'
Il should think you'd Jest as lives they
warn't no kin to We; eft hadn't a been for
them you might ha' had them fifteen thous-
and dollars Grandsire Spencer left to Ruth
Crane. Your husband was Jest as near
kin to him as her father, and eff you ha'
had that property, you'd ha' been comfort
able for the rest o your days, and had lots
folks bowin' and curtesyin' round you
like flies after honey pot. Land. don't
| know? Moneys what lies the wheels
Sister Lockwood laid down the red nit
ten in her lap; she was very earnest; in
any other soul her earnestness would have
been indignation.
Now, Mis- Salisbury, what could ha'
done with that? nd ha'n't it set up little
Ruthy for life? Look "a there
For the little parlor-d door, as if conscious
that the right moment had come, swung
open, being only half latched and showed
pretty Ruth Crane standing in front of the
bright fire, with handsome young mans
arm round her waist, and her fair head
lying on his shoulder in perfect content
Go shut the parlor-door real softly, Sal
ry,' said Mrs. Lockwood, nodding to
little curly-headed Irish girl, who leaned
against the settle, staring at the fire.
Yes, Mis- Salisbury, how long do you
think DR.. Sparkle would ha' had to wait
afore he could give Ruthy home, and af-
ford to take care on her, workin' day and
night? And now a'in't day after o-morrcr
more of a Thanksgivin Day to them than
ever twas before: A wedding day beside?
Goodness! if Grandsire Spencer had ha'
left that money to me, | should ha' gin it
to them, at least part ont; Eli could have
had t'other part: and then, spose, they
wouldn't have took it. No! am thank
full about that, | tell ye'
Well growled Granny Salisbury,
you do beat all, You han't got no sper-
ret, nor no ambition. ketch me bein so
tickled about nothin'l I've had enough
troubles to kill one woman, and don't
pretend ha'n't. l guess eff you'd he'd a
drunken husband to spend Jest as fast as
you spared, nd bring ye to poverty, you'd
ha' crawled some by this time
'She driv him to it! She dliv him to
it! Now she's blamin' on him ? NUT
tered Uncle Sol, shaking his head, but
nobody heard him except Jake the negro.
"Twas hard, Mis- Salisbury; but he
got over it, didn't he?' said Mrs. Lock
wood.
Yes, he'd got over it, ye'd better be-
live; broke his LEG, and got kerried to
Canton Hospital; couldn't drink nd so he
didn't; nd then jest as | might ha' had
some piece o my mind, be up an died. |
teIl We | was real glad there want no more
Children than Joe, for had enough to do
to take keer o him and me-
You had a nice little farm ?
W ell, yes; twas fair medder land, and
a tolabic good wood lot; but Abe Sykes,
he took it on shares and | ncs er gin him
credit for dom the fair thing, and when
Joe got kinder sick o stayin' TO home, nd
run off to Caiiforny long o your Eli, was
left a lone widder with nobody to stick up
for my rights, nd that old Squire Spence,
he undertook for to build a new fence to
his hill pastur', nd went and sot it two
foot furder on to my lot than he'd orter;
he stuck tot that twas his old line, nd |
knew better, so we had suit, nd | had
ter sell the biggest part Of the medder land
! to pay fort. nd lost the hull case beside
then my barn got atire nd burned the
house down, and COS Id got it insured for
NOR it twas worth, folks said | sot it
aire myself, nd | had another suit with
that pesky insurance company, and that |
beat, but it took all the money about to
pay those darned mean lawyers. SO |
calkerlated to run what was left of the
farm myself, and had shanty put up,
but want used to such work, and fust
| had a spell of fever, nd then rheumatic
set in nd fust | knew my farm was sold
and the money used up, and me and my
clothes fetched to the poor house. don t
know what Methodist folks think ont. l
guess there amt nothin' to Methodys
more n bein' called brother sister to eve
rybody.'
Bress de Lord whispered Jake, again
with great fervor.
But | was brought up in Presbyte-
rian meetin', nd | don't expect to be extry
thankful for what | ha'n't got nor ha' n
/ had
Sister Lockwood's quiet face withdrew
as it were into a soft shadow of dismay
and perplexity, but presently it frightened
After all, Mis- Salisbury, mebbe JOEL
come homo a rich man yet nd take keer or
ye.'
Hob! guess he'll hev to step round
pretty spry eff he's agoins to find me;
amt SO dredful young. But l know one
thins-I guess the Lord'l pay me up fol
all my troubles here, when / get up there
or there amt no sech thing es justice
ag0ins, nd believe there is
She's KEEP accounts, l guess mutterel
Jake.
Sister Lockwood folded up her knitting
and went up to bed, and Granny Salisbury
curled herself up with many a growl in be-
lair Peace brooded in the little garre
chamber, but fed with frightened wing
from the down-stair bedroom allotted Il
the rheumatic and grumbling old woman
Next day snow filed all the chilling al
with Its dizzy, fairy whirls Of fakes, sing
ing against the dull panes, whirling aroun