Perrysburg journal. (Perrysburg, Wood Co., O. [Ohio]) 186?-1965, 1879-06-06
THE WAY I FEEL ABOUT 1T.

ing was done. The parlor stove had
been taken down and sewed up in its
usual canvas bag for the season. Aunty
said she wouldn't have the dirt and
muss of fire upon her freshly turned
carpet. We were so sorry, Daisy and
Tom and l, because it was the one
CHEEKY spot in the whole room. Out
side of the dear old thin-legged and
thinner-toned piano there wasn't now
comfortable feature i'll the whole
grim circumference of it, And because
it was April, and some of the house
cleaning done, aunty would have it that
the parlor was comfortable. Her poor,
dear nose was red, and her thin hands
were blue, and we felt so sorry to see
her freeze there with her prayer-book
in her hand. She hadn't eaten much
meat during Lent, and looked sadly
worn, and so very blue with the cold.
AS for Daisy and me, we staid out by
the kitchen range pretending to be still
doing up the dishes, and it was a mercy
we did, for Cousin Tom came right to
us instead of blurting into the parlor
with his pale face and melancholy news.
Somehow the minute he took his hat
off | knew by the look of his hair that
something had happened. 1t usually
lay kind of curly and soft about his fore
head, but now it was lank and stiff and
petrified-looking. He came right up to
us and said, in blood-curdling way,
"Girls, the bank has busted"
"Not aunty's bankP' said Daisy, for
couldn't speak.
"The one where she kept her tin"
said Tom. "It's gone up the spout
CIednm he added, with mournful en-
phasis.
With one accord we took peep
through at aunty, as people always will
gaze upon fallen horse, house afire,
or any other miserable spectacle.
She was sitting up by the window as
stiff as ever; her nose from red had be-
come blue, apd her hands had deep
ened to a purple. There was a gray
look in her face of age, of loneliness,
of Heaven knows what, that set the
tears to flowing out of Daisy's lovely
eyes, and made queer lump in my
throat.
"Who can tell herP' whispered
Daisy, while we all shrank at the bare
thought of such thing.
"After all, why tell herP" said Cousin
Tom. 81 always draw the money; it
will be an easy thing to keep up the
humbug of the book"
'But the humbug of the money is
the difficult part" said.
"Well, it will be tight shave"
said Tom; "there'll be some tall
scroogeing when rent-day comes
around, but l think l can manage it
now"
We knew that Tom was in an insur-
ance Office, and though the work was
light, the pay was correspondingly
vaporous, and he had always given
what he could to the mutual support.
was glad to see him put so brave a
face upon the calamity; but now that
aunty's income was gone, L couldn't
see how we were to make ends meet.
1t had always served to pay the rent,
which was big item in our expenses.
We lived across town-no matter
where; we had the whole second part
of the third floor In one of those old
fashioned, deep windows silled, wide,
and mellow mansions, that was quite
genteel and grand when aunty first
went to housekeeping with her two
little orphan nieces. Daisy was but
baby then, and it was not till some
years later on she gave shelter to Cousin
Tom. BY that time this spacious do
main was sadly altered; the paint had
become more and more yellow with
every year that went by; the walls took
a deeper, not to say diDgier. huc;
and the foreign element evolved it.
self to such an extent about us
that the Balbriggans, the family
occupying the rest of the house,
declared that we might as well
be living in Germany. At length
the Balbriggans moved away, and the
lower floor was turned into shop for
a taller with an unpronounceable name.
He was good-natured man, with quite
an ear for music; and aunty said he
might add a Won TO his name if he
wanted to, which privilege he was sem
siole enough to refuse, as it was ever
too much too long already. l went to
the store very heavy-hearted that morn
ing, and could scarce get patience to
endure the whims and ways of my Gus
toners. On the way home my head
began to ache as well as my heart; but
before was well up the stoop heard
the jingle of the piano. Tom was there
before me, and he and Daisy were sing
ing away at the old yellow KEYS, while
aunty sat in her usual chair by the
window, dressed in the rusty alpaca
that she wore at least a hundred after
moons, keeping time in her accustomed
way, with her thin, long fingered pa
t:ician hand.
The day was closing gently without
wind or rain, and at parting the sun
shed a f1attering beam upon the faded
old room, the threadbare carpet. the
horse-hair seats, and stiff old engray-
lngs. One lingering ray fell full upon
the lovely head of Daisy as she stood
there singing away at the top of her
voice, her mouth opened wide, her
cheeks glowing, her eyes shining like
sapphires. 1t was an old lyric of Hey-
ward s, s,ofwhich aunty never grew tired.
Tom had squared himself to the piano
with an air of professor, and in his
way was as fair TO look upon as Daisy
herself. The happy tears sprang to nv
eyes as l looked and listened. NV
heart lightened. Presently nv tired
feet began to keep time to the tuneful
measures:
" Pack clouds away, and welcome day;
With night we Danish sorrow.
Sweet air, blow soft, mount, lark, aloft,
10 give my love good-mOrrow.
Wings from the wind, 10 please her mind,
Notes from the lark, IN borrow.
Bird, plume thy wing, nightingale. sing.
To give my love good-morrow,
Notes from them both I'll borrow.n
Zach, wunderschonr' said a voice
from the door, and there was the old
German tailor from the floor below
rubbing his hands in ecstasy. indeed,
as the song said, they borrowed their
notes from the lark and nightingale. SO
full and rich and sweet were theyl
Since ever these children had been able
TO raise a note they had warbled to-
gether to the jingling of this worn-out