Essex County herald. [volume] (Guildhall, Vt.) 1873-1964, 1875-08-07

"Why shouldn't it, Aunt Georgel"
asked Lizzie, coloring and smiling in
that pretty, fower-like way of hers.
"Humph I" said Aunt George. eff
you come to that, why don't the sunshine
last forever ?"
$50 it might if there were no clouds,
Lizzie answered, softly
"Ah, child" sighed Aunt George,
"you're young now, so enjoy it as much
as you can. We can't be young twice
over, more's the pity p ~
SO we were married quietly, as became
our humble estate and moderate expec-
tations, and went to spend few days in
the country, where 1 had sister living
on q breezy, old-fashioned farm. Do
you think Lizzie and 1 will ever forget
those days, even if we live to be as old
as MethuselahR"
It was November evening when we
came to the Sadoll's house." where the
red merino draperies glowed warmly in
the ruddy shine Of the fire and the tin
kettle was singing out its homely lay of
welcome.
"Lizzie," said /, softly, "are you
glad to come home ~ -.. -
And she answered, more with her eyes
than her lips, "Oh, SO very, very glad
for we are going to be happy here. l
know it as we'll as if saw all the years
stretched out before me on map"
Our first year was very bissful, es-
pecially after the baby came to make
our lives musical, with his little cooling
voice; but after that the hard times
came. Not that we repined. Lizzie
and were brave to endure whatever we
could bear together, yet it went to my
heart to see her growing pale and thin,
through sitting up at night to sew and
earn a little extra money, because my
business was dull. And, almost before
we knew it, the bills began to accumu-
late, and the rent got behind.
"This won't do, Joe," said Lizzie,
gravely. "We must do without meat. u
"That is nothing" said I, laughing,
although felt little enough inclined tc
be mirthful; "but we cannot very well
do without roof over our heads"
"Don't fret, Joe," said my little heart.
some wife. 1--WE shall not want. Some.
thing will be sure to happen"
"But what can happen, Lizzie2 The
days of miracles are over. There are
no Elijahs and ravens in these times"
eyes, there are, Joe," said Lizzie
cheerfully, although we don't always
know it at the time. There is an order
for you to tune a piano up in South
street; isn't that 'raven?"
And she held the little strip of paper
triumphantly up before me.
l When I came back from South street
1 Lizzie met me at the door with humid
q eyes and troubled face.
"What is the matter?" I cried out
anxiously. &C 'Lizzie-not the baby
Nothing has happened to him?"
"No," Lizzie answered; "he is quite
well, and fast asleep, like a little white
: lamb. But-Aunt George is dead"
" Aunt George !" repeated, vacantly
"Yes; she died this morning, and
could not be sent for in time to receive
her last breath. Oh, Joe, she was very
, very kind to me-"
Are we men naturally so selfish, o.
. was I, hunted and driven by want, an ex
i ception to the ordinary rule? For con
fess that as Lizzie stood there looking
). tearfully upinto my face the first though
~ that followed the entrance of this unex
;, pected news into my brain was WoulC
;, Aunt George leave us anything? I sup
= posed Lizzie was her sole living relation
= and surely, in all these years, though he
income was small, she must have save,
:, something. But l am thankful to re
=. member that never told Lizzie wha
> was in my mind. Ee.-
), "She was very old, DEAR" I said
4 striving to comfort my grieved wife
"over threescore and ten. 1t is the al
7 lotted age of humanity, and you knov
she had grown to be very feeble"
!, "And know she is better off," sal
q Lizzie but, Joe, she is all the mothe
/ ever had"
q We went to Aunt Georges funeral
@ and her will was read-a very brie
document-in which she bequeathe
|, her simple household furniture and be
J. longings to a nephew in Wisconsin, an
g "to Elizabeth, wife of Joseph Allen, q
d token of the affectionate remembrance
% of the deceased, her piano."
A tuneless, iangling instrument, hal
% a century old, with carved spindle legs
4 ornaments of inlaid brass and keys q
yellow as Aunt Georges own complies
I ion. l laughed contemptuously when
d heard the words. But Lizzie laid he
Of hand gently ON my arm.
=" 1t was Aunt Georges, DEAR" sh
z said, softly, "and we must cherish it fo
ct her sake. Besides" in whisper
"think how it will amuse the baby"
" And that was the end of all my expec
A. tations of an inheritance from Lizzie
at Aunt George.
The old piano was duly carted HON
g; the next day. If it had been fashion
a able instrument, of modern make, the
could never have gotten it up the narro
y, staircase; but it looked quite friendl
g. and home-like opposite the fireplace, il