The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1877-03-10
THE FIRST AND THE LAST OF HER.

swept through the wide parlor that Sum-
The month was May, the place was Phia-
delpha, and i am almost afraid to say
this--it was the Centennial time. But
don't be alarmed, my reader | am not
going to describe the Great Exposition,
nor tell any thing about it, nor shall give
any information concerning &c of either
this or the last century. | only intend to
relate an incident that happened to take
place then and there.
The people enjoying the breeze we've a
family by the name of Fenton, and con-
sisted of a father and mother. two grown
up daughters, one grown son, and little
girl
Mrs. Fenton had just been saying
that she supposed they would soon be
overrun with visitors coming to spend a
few days and see the Centennial.
"Well, let them comet said Mr.. Fenton,
heartily, as he turned his paper inside out.
81 don't know one that | wouldn't be glad
10 See.'
'Nor L. returned Mrs. Fenton. 81
am always so thankful that we need't be
ashamed of any of our relations. There $
sister Kate who could be more delightful
than she is9"
"Oh, Aunt Kate is perfectly splendidn'
chorused the young people.
And there's Uncle Phil and Emily"
said Mabel, the eldes, girl.
Aud Cousin Joe and his wife," added
Florence, the second daughter.
And john and his family put in Mr..
Fenton.
"Oh! if you go to counting up, you Il
never get through" said Tom, the son and
heir. Z" But l say. haven't we any ohiec-
tionable connections at all? Isn't there
some old duifer who'll turn up just at the
wrong moment?"
mo, | haven't any said Mr.. Fenton.
"No-o-o,'' said Mrs Fenton rubbing her
forehead thoughtfnlly. stop. think |
remember one. OF course Cousin Jerusha,
! wonder | didn't think before. But
don't know that she is Objectionable; the
fact is, don't know any thing about her.
She's lived way up in Vermont all her life.
She is a niece of grandfather's, and is an
old maid; at least she ought to be, if she
isn't married or dead. Her name is Hev-
gton-Jerusha Hevington. always
thought it such pity to spoil such fine
name as Hevington with Jerusha. l hope
she wont come; Pm sure she must be per-
fectly awful!"'
The two young ladies had been looking
at their mother in blank silence ever since
she had mentioned this unpleasant relation;
Tom had gone off in fit of laughter; so
that MIR. Fenton was the only one who
spoke:
Well, if she comes, all we can do is to
make the best of it, and treat her AS well
as we know how
"Oh, of course" said Mr.. Fenton.
Tom here looked at his watch, and
started up, exclaiming that he should be
late he had an appointment, and bolted
off, promised to be home early. Then Mr..
Fenton settled down for nap; Mrs. Fem
ton buried hesselt in Lorna Dooue; and the
girls yawned over their Japanese canvas,
tearing dull evening.
The air gently tluttered the lace curtains,
the mellow light shone down from the
many -globed chandelier upon the fresh
white mating, the linen draped furniture,
the pictures and statuettes, the three ladies
in their pretty evening dresses and the old
gentleman snoring away behind his news
paper; all was as quiet as quiet could be,
when violent peal at tue door bell made
them all nearly jump out of their skins.
Vino on earth is that? ' asked Mr..
Fenton, bouncing up.
Mrs. Fenton dropped her book and gave
a scared look into the hall.
81 suppose it's Mr.. Eanderpool," said
Mabel.
son no, he nerer rings like that" said
Florence.
Their old colored waiter had opened the
door by this time, and loud voice was
heard nquiring, "Does Mr.. Fenton-Mr
Samuel Fenton-live hele?'
Yes, a'am, he does,' old James an
swered, respectfully.
"Wa'al, than, guess I'll walk right in
i seen the folks through the wnder;'
and apparently before the old servant could
stop her, the owner of the voice did walk
right into the parlor-a tall, strong fea-
tuned woman, with iron-gray hair, clad
in a brilliantly lowered dress that bullying
hoop-skirt showed to advantage, and a
shawl of vivid red and yellow plaid. A
bonnet of the shape called poke was on
her head, and from it dangled thick green
veil. She wore gray cotton gloves, and
one hand firmly grasped a lumpy carpet
bag, the other a fat umbrella. She looked
comfortable and common from top to toe.
She peered at the group through her steel,
bowed spectacles, and tucking her UNI
brella under the carpet bag arm, she ex-
tended her hand, "Wa'al, now, | s'pose
| yer don't know me. I'm Jerusha Heving-
ton-yer cousin, Jerusha Hevington.'
The stricken family were dumb. Mr.
| fentOn was the nrSt TO recover. lie took
the proffered hand, shook it warmly, and
led the lady to chair, begging her to be
seated: he could not say that she WIS
welcome, but he tried to make her feel
as if she were. Mrs. Fenton then came
| forward, and sitting down beside her,
asked some friendly questions about the
journey; and the girls little conscience
snitten, offered to take her things
"Waal, guess | won't just now, thank
yer-I've got to go and see about my trunk
/ i'll a minute: | had it left in a grocery store
| just around the corner. The young man
was awful pleasant when l told him that
was one of your folks-he seems to set
a heap by you
Good gracious thought Florence,
with a shudder. 81 wonder if she has
been going all through the city advertising
her relationship to us"'
"Wa'al, Samuel" began Miss Jerusha