The true northerner. [volume] (Paw Paw, Mich.) 1855-1920, 1877-01-12

Mrs. Bamber made herself spokes-
woman on the occasion with all possible
energy. She even offered up her shop,
since DIR. Platt had given it originally,
and was laughed at for her pains. Mr..
Hiram briggs was not a pleasant man
to ask for favors, especially when he
came quite close to Charlotte and said,
harshly: You know my terms"
After that Mrs. Bamber drew her COM
panion away without another word.
"He is BRUTE" said the little wo-
man, tingling with modification at the
remembrance of the coarse laugh which
had greeted her proposal OF yielding up
her all.
They met a young man at the corner
of the street.
"Take care of her." said Mrs. Bam-
Der, transferring Charlotte to his charge.
my dear Mrs. Bamber, l do not need
the Injunction said Charley Platt in
voice he strove to render steady and
cheerful as he drew the girls hand
through his arm with an air of tender
protection. Charlotte and Mrs. Bam-
Der looked at each other meaningly !;
then the latter turned away with little
pang at her heart. These two were
made for each other, handsome Charley
and pale, frightened Charlotte but how
would it be with them if evil In the
shape of Hiram briggs stepped be-
tweena When she reached her own
door Mrs. Bamber was not only dis
turbed and distressed, as she had been
all day, but thoroughly out of temper.
She would have liked to set the world to
rights, and had only succeeded in ruff
fling her own amour prOpre in the in
terview with a brusque, rude million
aire. Perhaps it was this mood that
made her shake her head at the three
pictures in her window.
"Oh, there You are only wish L
could recover the sum your frames cost
me. Old masters, forsooth !"
The pictures were small and dark, as
If some shadow obscured their original
meaning, even as brambles and moss
might have overgrown the artists grave.
The sun shot golden arrow in the win
dow as Mrs. Bamber paused, and illu-
minated the dim canvas. Perhaps the
radiance of revelation reached her soul
in that glimpse, however family, the
CLEAN of an angels wing cleaving the
sky, the wonder of the Virgins up
turned face; but the sunset faded, and
Mrs. Bamber was left to sorrowful con-
temptation of the garish frames. "Some
papist trash, she soiloquized. "What-
ever possessed me to get 'em new framesa
1 shall never see the money back, I'll be
bound I'm sure would be thankful
to get $25 apiece. allowing $40 for the
frames and suppose the pictures are
worth So, if they amount to anything.
Nobody will give that, though"
A year before the shop-bell had
brought Mrs. Bamber from her supper
to the contemplation of thin, cadaver-
Gus stranger of the brigand type,
wrapped in cloak, and with a broad
hat drawn over his brows. The man
was faint with cold, and coughed dole
fully; he had no money and no friends.
Mrs. Bamber was not the person TO send
away such waif empty-handed. She
placed him before the fire in her own
tiny kitchen, and made Nanny, her small
hand maiden, serve him with hot tea
she wrote note to the clergyman, who
dispensed charity, to find alodging; and
she finally dispatched him with bottle
of Bamber's Drops as a gift. The stran-
ger fingered in the garret furnished him,
reserved, trifle sinister and only known
to smile when Mrs. Bamber preached to
him in language which he but imper
fectly understood.
There came day in rude March,
when so many leaves drop from the tree
of life, that the foreigner sent for Mrs.
Bamber, bequeathing to her solemnly
three small pictures set in carved wood.
"They are worth their weight in
gold," he had whispered, and turned
his inscrutable face-in which there
fingered a triumph to the end-to the
wall.
Mrs. Bamber had shed few tears,
and carried her gifts home cautiously,
as if she held some explosive projectile.
The clergyman surveyed the pictures
through his spectacles, and chilled the
possessor's enthusiasm somewhat by ex-
pressing preference for engravings.
He recommended replacing the quaint
olive wood frames with new ones and
exposing them for sale in the window.
Clergymen are not always the best finan-
C1tll uUVlherS. hIb. DdIlDeT ldCt RIcW
very long when she saw the trainers bill.
Stoneport was skeptical of these daubs;
besides, the widow asked fabulous
price for them. Stoneport knew a chro
mo and modern landscape full Of lively
coloring, but such dismal things were
not to its taste.
The last night OF The year closed in
sadly. Mrs. Bamber sat long beside
the morning glory stove in the parlor
back of the shop, slipping her tea, in
which beverage alone lay consolation.
A portrait of DIR. Bamber, representing
him as q somewhat wall-eyed gentleman,
hung above her, and opposite a cabinet
displayed, among other relics, several
skulls prepared by the lamented Archi-
bald. Her thoughts went back to a
dreary day on an emigrant wharf. when
she landed with her husband, who had
been injured by fall on the voyage.
The sense of desolate homesickness
again swept over her now, twelve years
later, and a gentleman with a good-hu-
mored, rosy face spoke to her kindly.
Could she ever forget that this Samari-
tan was DIR. Platt, Of Stoneport, now
gone to his reward2 He had asked few
questions, but had brought the friend
less chemist to his own town and estab
A.. Enaxu