Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1879-07-22

the pant nau OecoHle ihoIV anu HWY
yellow with every year that went by; the
walls took deeper, not to say dlngler,
hue; 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
tailor 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 sensible to refuse,
as it was ever so much too long already.
went to the store very heavy hearted
that morning, and could scarce get pa
tience TO endure the whims and ways of
my customers. 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 singing
away at the old yellow keys, while aunty
sat in her usual chair by the window
dressed in the rusty alpaca that she had
worn at least a hundred afternoons, keep
Ing time in her accustomed way, with her
thin, long fingered patrician hand.
The day was closing gently without
wind or rain, and at parting the sun shed
flattering beam upon the faded old room,
the threadbare carpet, the horse-halr
seats, and stiff old engrayings One lin
gering ray fell upon the head of Daisy
as she stood there singing away at the
top of her voice, her mouth opened wide,
her checks glowing, her eyes shining like
sapphires. 1t was an old lyric of Hey
wards. of which aunty never grew tired.
Tom had squared himself to the piano
with the air of professor, and in his
way was as fair to look upon as Daisy
herself The happy tears sprang to my
ewes AS looked and listened. My heart
listened. Presently my tired feet began
to keep time TO the tuneful measure:
Pack clouds away. and welcome day
with night We Danish sorrow.
sweet air, blow son, mount lark aloft,
To give my love good.morrow.
Wings from the wind to please her mind,
Notes from the lark IN borrow,
Bird. plume thy wing, nightingale, sing;
To give my love good morrow,
Notes nom them both IN borrow"
"Ach. thunderstorm, said a voice
from the door, and there was the old Ger
man tailor from the floor below rubbing
his hands in ecstasy. Indeed, as the
song said, they borrowed the notes from
the lark and nightingale, so full and rich
and sweet were they Since ever these
children had been able TO raise note they
had warbled together to the jingling of
this worn-out old spindle-thread of an IN
strument. II was the only amusement,
the only distraction of the household.
The Balbrggans were a musical family:
aunty had once a fine contralto of her
own: and though | could not carry
tune. had fine appreciation for the
sweet burden of those more fortunate,
and thanked God fervently for this gift
10 wonder two, who sang and sang away
long after aunty and | had gone to dish
up the evening meal The potatoes were
so mealy the ham and eggs so crisp and
inviting: Daisy had made a wonderful
pudding; l took heart Of grace, and
yrew content once more.
Lets leave it all 10 God, dear |
whispered to Tom. He who cares for
the fall of the sparrow will not see us
want.
"Hum-yes," said Tom, raising his
eyebrows and Struggling his shoulders
tricks he had learned from the foreigners
about us-'yes: but God helps them
that helps themselves; and while we are
on the Scriptures, Pudy, don't YOU for
get that nice little parable about the fell
low who came to grief through hiding his
talent in a napkin We must do the best
we can with whatever accomplishments
we may have; eh, Pue:"
Pm sure I've always striyen--' | be-
gan, for the words of the boy hurt me.
''Now, Prudy," he broke in, "who said
YOU didn't: I'm only alluding to others.
"Well, as for you" began again;
but he cut me short by declaring that he
had been second Hercules. "Who,
then, do YOU mean :" said wonderingly;
for what could poor old aunty do more
than she did, and Daisy was but a child
as yet-barely twenty the coming June.
Nous yerrons,' - said Tom, who inter
Ilarded his conversation in this polyglot
way.
From that time out Tom really did
work like q heather Hercules. Every
nioht he went back to the Office, and
worked there till close on to midnight.
had no idea that in the insurance bust
ness people could be so hurried, and, in
deed had heard of considerable depres-
sion in all the mercantile branches; but
Tom assured me that the rush in his line
of business was remarkable; that people
stood in line and waited till their turn
came around, and there seemed to be no
diminution in the rush as yet. He hoped
il would last till the summer, and begin
again with renewed zeal with the gales
of autumn. =.
Life and property are so uncertain,
said, moumfully. but I'm afraid
You'll be worn out, Tom"
Not at all, he cried; Il rather en-
iov it. It's good fun, you know, to see
people so excited and enthusiastic. I'm