The Forest Republican. [volume] (Tionesta, Pa.) 1869-1952, 1880-06-16
ESTHER'S FORTUNE.

Glow cold it isl I say Marcia, put
OF some more wood, and close the win
q ~ blinds 'Pe trs To me the winter
3 are colder now than they used to be-"
. You are older now, Aunt Pb0be.
and old folks feel the cola more than
when they were young" replied Marcia
tall, handsome girl of twenty. with
decided look and carriage; adding
"Hll close the shutters, Esther, while
you bring the woud."
IL was always thus; the most di fficuli
or disagreeable task was invariably pu
upon Esther, II slender. delicate looking
girl, "A year Younger than Marcia.
Aunt Phoebe Keeling never perceived
it-she had no thought but for herself
and her ailings-Ind if Esther was
aware OF it she made no opposition.
Now she went out to the woodpilt
and filled her basket with chips, and
gathered some wood ready To carry
into the house. There was no servant
on the Keeling place, except an old
negro man and woman who occupied
the outer kitchen, and were expected
to do the ougher work of the little fam
lily.
She stood for a moment in the chilly
November air, looking round her at the
negle ted little gray farmhouse with it,
moss grown roof, tianked by aged ard
half dead trees; at the stony field be
tween the house and the river, sprinkled
with stunted cornstalks and patches OF
yellow broom; and OF the rocky Hill be-
hind the house, clothed with somber
pines, whose low, monotonous murmur
mingled with that of the river, and
sounded day and night like a moaning
dirge.
~, ,,,o,o 1ouo,o,,oo -. J.oov,, ,>looo
could be imagined than this barren
remnant of the ODD Keeling farm.
And yet, here had the greater part of
Esther's life been passed. Ten years
ago her mother had returned, penni-
less widow. to the aunt who had been
to ler as mother, and with whom she
had again found home. On her death
bed she had said to Esther, Take care
OF Aunt Pu9be in her old age AN in
junction Which the gir. had remembered
and Obeyed, in face of all temptations to
seek more cheerful home.
At the farm they found Marcia, whose
father, the brother of Eslher's mother,
had lived with Aunt Keeling till his
death. Under his management the farm
had yielded something; but afterward
the place went down, and the old lady
had sold it, field after field, till nothing
remained save this long, narrow ridge
Of stony ground on which the house
was situated, lying between the pine
hills and the river, and which no one
cared to purchase at any price.
A dreary place and a dreary life for
Esther, especially when Marc a, unable
longer to endure it, had gone to teach
school at Ashwood, village some
twelve miles distant. She came home
once month on SATURDAYS; and this
winter, learning that Aunt Keeling
was very feeble and could not live long,
she had given up her school and re-
turned to the farm, as she said, to take
care of her But the truth was that
Marcia, a clever girl, with her own in
terests always in view, had learned that
Aunt Keeling owned some two thou
sand dollars in bank, and moving her
intention of leaving all she possessed to
her I wO great nice s. she had considered
it prudent to be on the spot lest Esther,
VINO had remained with the old lady,
should come in for the larger share.
AS Esther stopped to lift the armful
OF wood, man appeared riding along
the open cart-track which led through
the cornield toward the village, mile
distant. He was a good looking, manly
young fellow, neatly dressed in a suit of
gray homespun. On seeing the girl he
turned from the pathway and dis
mounted by her side.
Why, Esther, this is no work for
you. Look at your hands-it only foI
sewing. Why did you not call Uncle
Heis at work, and lame, you know