The interior journal. [volume] (Stanford, Ky.) 1872-1881, 1875-09-03

he mirthful "but we cannot very well
do without q roof over our heads"
"Don't fret, Joc," said my little heart
some wife. 1--WE shall not want. Some
thing will be sure to happen"
"But what can happen, Lzzie' The
days Of miracles are over. There are no
Elijah's and ravens In these times"
Yes, there are, Joe, said Lizzie cheer.
fully, "slthough we don't always know
IL al the time. There Il IL m order for
you to tune piano ny In South street /;
isn't that q 'ravenr"
And she held the little strip Of paper
triumpbantly up before me.
When came back from south street
Lizzie met me at the dcoe with humid
eyes and troubled face.
"Wbet Is the matter ~ cried out.
anxiously. "Lizzie--not the baby 2
Nothing has happened To himY'
"No," Lizzie answered; "he is quite
well, and fast asleep, like n little white
lamb Bt-Aunt George is dead"
aunt Georgc" ! repeated vacantly.
"Yes; she died this morning, and I
could not be sent for In time to receive
her lsst breath. Oh, Joe, she was very,
very kind to me-"
Are we men naturally 90 selfish, or was
|, hunted and driven by want, an excep
ton TO the ordinary rule 2 For confess
that as Lizzie stood there looking tear
fully up into my face the first thought
that followed the entrance Of this uncx.
pected news into my brain was, Would
Aunt George leave usanything? sup
posed Lizzie was her sole living relation,
and surely in all these years, though
her income was small, she must have
saved something. But am thankful to
remember that I never told Lizzie what
was in my mind.
"She was very old, dear" I said striv.
ing to comfort my grieved wife; "over
three score and ten. It is the allotted
age Of humanity, and you know she had
grown to be very feeble"
"And know she is better off," said
Lizzie; but, Joe, she is the only mother
ever had"
We went TO Aunt Georges funeral, and
her will was read-a very brief docu.
ment-in which she bequeathed her
simple household furniture and belong
ings to nephew in Wisconsin, and to
Elizabeth, wife of Joseph Alien, as a
token Of the adectionate remembrance Of
deceased, her piano."
A tuneless, jangling instrument, half
a century old, with carved spindle legs,
ornaments of inlaid brass, and keys as
yellow as Aunt Georges ewn complexion.
| laughed contemptuously when | heard
the words. But Lizzie laid her hand
gently on my arm.
at was Aunt Georges, dear" she said,
softly, "and we must cherish it for her
sake. Besides" in whisper, think
how it will amuse the baby"
And that was the end of all my ex.
pectatious Of an inheritance from Liz
zie's Aunt George.
The old PIANO was duly carted home
the next day. Ii 1t had been fashion
able instrument, Of modern make, they
could have never gotten II up the mar
row staircase but it looked quite
friendly and home-liec opposite the fire
place, its lank proportions covered by a
faded green cloth.
Ishrank back with little grimace as
Lizzie touched the keys to make the baby
laugh.
"Of course it is out of tune, Joe,' she
said, merrily; "but you'll soon set that
r'gnI ANA ! snai' r"o up my pracuce
again In no time.
IL happened 10 oe a very dui' time
us' 'heh 80 ! mad nothing else To do
ou. 10 Mke L'h.'e ADVICE; ana IN Just
''a'i an nour ! nad the oid instrument
nearly u'sSec'eu' much 10 MI babys
AS ne sat graveiy on the moor
IN tne MIDST Oh the interior developments
oi tne ancient piano
ana now comes the most marvellous
part OF my story.
A