St. Johnsbury Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1867-1919, 1877-03-30
The First and the Last of Her.

that summer evening, it had been so
hot of late. The month was May, the
place was Philadelphia, and-I am al
most 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 anything
about it, nor shall l give any informa-
tion concerning '76 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 were
a family by the name of FentOn, and
consisted of a father and mother, two
grOwn-up daughters, one grOwn-up son,
and a 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 come; )" said Mr..
FentOn, heartily, as he turned his pa
per inside out. 81 don't know one
that wouldn't be glad to see."
"Nor l." returned Mrs. Fenton. 81
am always so thankful that we needn't
be ashamed of any of our relations.
There's sister Kate who could be
"Oh, Aunt Kate is perfectly splen-
did ~ chOrused the young people.
"And there's Uncle Phil and Aunt
Emily" said Mabel, the eldest girl.
"And Cousin Joe and his wife," add
ed Florence, the second daughter.
"And John and his family" put in
Mr.. Fenton.
"Oh if you go to counting up, You'll
never get through said Tom, the son
and heir. "But say haven't we any
Objectionable connections at all Isn't
there some old duffer who'll turn up
just at the wrong mOmentW
''No, haven't any," said Mr.. Fenton
"No-o-o," said Mrs. FentOn, rubbing
her forehead thoughtfully. "Stop!
think | remember one. Of course
Cousin JerUsha! wonder didn't think
before. But | don't knOU that she is
Objectionable the fact is, don't know
anything about her. She's lived way
up in Vermont all her life. She is 6
niece of grandfather's and is an ole
maid at least she ought to be, if she
isn't married or dead. Her name is
Hevington-Jerusha Hevington. l al
ways thought it such pity to spoi
such fine name as Hevington with Je
rusha. | hope she won't come Pm
sure she must be perfectly awful :"
The two young ladies had been look
ing at their mother in blank silenc,
ever since she had mentioned this un
pleasant relation Tom had gone off il
a fit of laughter; so that Mr.. Fentol
= was the only one who spoke:
"Well, if she comes, all we can do i.
to make the best of it, and treat her a
well as we know how"
''Oh, of course" said Mrs. Fenton.
Tom here looked at his watch, ant
5 started up, exclaiming that he shoul,
be late, he had an appointment, ant
Then Mr.. FentOn settled down for
nap; Mrs. Fenton buried herself il
Lorna DOOne; and the girls yawne'
over their Japanese canvass, fearing
dull evening.
The air gently fluttered the lace cur
tains, the mellow light shone dow
2 from the many globed chandelier upOI
5 the fresh white mating, the linendrap
ed furniture, the pictures and statu
cites, the three ladies in their prett,
evening dresses, and the old gentleman
snoring away behind his newspaper
! all was as quiet as quiet could be, whel
violent pun at the door bell mad
= them all nearly jump out of their skins
"Who on earth is that ?" asked MI
g FentOn, bouncing up.
= Mrs. FentOn dropped her book an,
I gave scared look into the hall.
81 suppose it's Mr.. Vanderpool," sai'
Mabel.
"Oh no, he nerer rings like that" salt
| Florence.
Their old colored waiter had opene,
the door by this time, and loud voic
was heard inquiring, ''DOes Mr.. Fento
Mr. Samuel Fenton- live here 2"
t eyes, ma'am, he does," old Jane
e answered, respectfully.
, "Wa'al, then, guess Pll walk righ
in-I seen the folks through the win
der;" and apparently before the oil
s servant could stop her, the owner q
= the voice did "walk right into" tn
parlor-a tall, strong-featured woman
with irOn-gray hair, clad in Brilliant
lowered dress that bulging hoOp-skil
e showed to advantage, and shawl c
a vivid red and yellow plaid. A bonne
Y of the shape called poke was on he
head, and from it dangled thick gree
veil. She wore gray cotton gloves, an
one hand firmly grasped lumpy cal
e pet-bag, the other fat umbrella. Sh
n looked comfortable and common froI
;, top to toe. She peered at the grOu
i through her steel-bOwed spectacles, an
: tucking her umbrella under the carpet
d bag arm, she extended her hand, ''Wa's
n now, s'pose yer don't know me. n
Jerusha Hevington-yer cousin, Jerr
sha HevingtOn."
The stricken family were dumb. NJ
h Fenton was the first to recover. q
: took the proffered hand, shook it warm
q ly, and led the lady to chair, beggin
her to be seated; he could not say tha
she was welcome, but he tried to max
: her feel as if she were. Mrs. Fento
h then came forward, and sitting dow
q beside her, asked some friendly ques
tions about the journey and the girl
little conscience-smitten, offered t
|. take her things.
"Wa'al, l guess l won't Jest nov
y thank yer-I've got to go and see abOu
my trunk in minute he'd it left in
o grocery store jest around the corue
: The young man was awful pleasaI
= when | told him that was one of YOU
- folks-he seems to set heap by YOU
GOOu gracious !" tnOuSnt FlOrenc'
'f with shudder. 81 wonder if she ha
: been going all through the city advel
tising her relationship to usI'
= "Wa'al, Samuel" began Miss Jerr
e sha. ''Yer've got two fine likely gals
e they'd oughter help their mar sigl
n in dOin' house work and sich. 1t mul
n take powerful heap o'work to kee
all them fussin's clean"-with an a6
u miring, rather awe-struck glance abor