The Elk County advocate. [volume] (Ridgway, Pa.) 1868-1883, 1874-11-19
HOW JERRY CAME HOME.


HOW JERRY CAME HOME.
That fire at the Naples did some
6hing, besides making talk for the whole
village and scorching up few rods OF
old Mrs. Chitts's scattering timber. 1t
gave the old gentlewoman, who had
long been lowering doubtfully on the
borders Of two worlds, very good rea-
son for departing at last, and leaving
a long waited-for estate to innumerable
hungry heirs and lawyers.
"Too much for the old lady, that
scare" .neighborly people said,
" though the fire didn't amount to any
thing but, bless your life, she'd hung
on SO lcng p implying that the bzeeze
which had shaken her off at last was Pill
in the way of Providence. The tyuth
is, people had begun to feel that Death,
with his hands full among meaner peo-
pie and poorer people. mad quite over
looked rich old Mrs Chitts in her snug
old place at the .daples. There is a
certain sense OF justice in these things,
and threescore years and ten is gem
erous allowance for lifetime, after all;
TO go beyord it looks covetous, espe-
cially II you have heirs. There were no
red eyCs at the old gentlewoman's
funeral, if you except those of Deborah,
the Old lady's humble companion and
hop ,sekeeper.
"She made fool of Deb, though !;
but, for the matter of that, Deb's always
being made fool Of" said Mrs. Thorn
pin, chatting TO neighbor over her
gate, with brood OF barefoot children
behind her. Mrs. Thornpin was Deb
orah's half-sister-a shrewd and nota-
BILE woman, with faded wisp of hair
done up in scantling twist behind,
and skewered vixenishly back from
forehead and ears. eyes, she's made
a fool of Deb--ieft without paying her
last quarters wages, and gave her the
sweepings of her property just to set
the whole place talking about us and
our poverty. And after the struggle
I've had TO keep my head above water,
to have Deb come back to me like that,
with that ragged bit of sea.shore ard
that whee1y old barn of house behind
her, anG all of hazing after that boy of
hers, who'll never come back, it's my
belief. II he's decently Iead and
buried, it's all the harm wish him."
For it seems that Deborah had had
shor romance too, years ago. It came
TO her in the shape of stray sailor
drifting up the shore one day-a
slouching fellow, wit.A pair of gypsy
black eyes and foreign look, which
the good people Cf the evillage, not being
able to translate accurately, took to
mean evil a1together, shaking their
heads ominOusly when he "made up"
to Deb, aud finally married her. So
when he led Deb a hard life, drank up
all hls earnings at the village inn, and
finally cut himself adrift again, going
OH without warning into that unknown
somewhere whence he came, and leav-
ing her with the care of three-year.
old boy, and not cent to support her.
self, everybody looked at everybody
else, and seid, "What could you ex-
pect ?" And there would have been
nothing tor Deb but to go back to her
half-sis ter's, making one of a scantily
fed a'ld overpopulated household, if
this old gentlewoman at the Naples
ha' mt turned up and wanted her for a
c,usekeeper.
But Deborah's boy hadn't turned out
well he grew up a pranksome, wild
young fellow, whom no one saw any
good in the pest Of the neighborhood,
the destroyer Of melon patches, an
lmpish youngster with no end OF mis-
chief.
So when one fine morning the lad
was up and off like his father before
him, nobody was sorry or surprised but
MS mother. A fine summer morning
long ago that was. Many mists had
settled on the sea-shore and many
SHOWS had whitened the hill. tops since
Jerry went away, but his mother had
been "looking for him back" ever
since. Every summer among the far
fitting sails she fancied Jerry's ship
was sailing IN, for Jerry had gone for
sailor, OF course-what else ? He would
come back some day in blue braided
jacket and floating ribbon as proud
and bright as the best of them. That
was Deb's religion, her one unshaken
faith and even her half-sister, accus-
toned to whet the sharp edge of her
temper ON Deb's short. comings, was
fain to keep shy of this vagary.
1t is astonishing, after all, how small
a portion of ones self is really owned
by ones self. Especially in a village.
There's the neighborhood, and there's
the family, and there's that vague, i'm
palpable thing called the world, which
sometimes means the meeting-house-
one, two, three-fourths-the sh1iveled
portion of selfhood remaining is hardly
worth counting upon as stock in trade.
And Deb had lived in the village till
she was almost one Of it's traditions.
Hadn't they known her from a child,
and weren't her whims and oddities a
sort of town property, like the salt-air
aud the shell-fish?
When, therefore, the village learned
that Deborah was not coming back to
burden her half-sister, but was fairly
set to move into that rickety, rheu-
matte old house bequeathed to her by
her eccentric mistress, with its bare
or two fraying out in meadow land
sa5oa In the tide-risino the VILLAGE