Ashtabula weekly telegraph. (Ashtabula, Ohio) 1880-1886, 1880-07-09

AAANANAN ANhAANN NWAAAAANMNNA III NAN nNMNINH
when II was found that mismanagemen
and a loose business method had 80 in
volyed the comfortable properly, that
80 far from there being any thing laid
by for rainy day, the most Of the es.
tate had 10 be sold 10 satisfy the credi-
tors. Margaret WAS thus left with the
house and little piece Of land where
with 10 support herself and the young
sister left In her charge. Nobody but
Margaret ever could have managed It,
said Aunt Desire-Aunt Desire, who
knew all about the little household and
its ways and means, and who had, In
fact, been prime minister Of that sOVer-
eign whom she delighted TO honor, for
near half score Of years. For II was
when Margaret was left q motheriess
girl Of fourteen that Desire Mallory had
entered the Brooks family, TO supple
ment with her experience the cares and
pains of It's slender young housekeeper.
From that time she had remained
through all the years and vicissitudes
that followed, more loved and trusted
constantly, till she had become rather
the companion than the servant, in fact
just "Aunt Desire," as she was always
called. When Farmer Brooks died,
Aunt Desire absolutely refused TO 90
with the other "help," so that Margaret
was forced, whether or not, to form
partnership for carrying on the little
place, in which Aunt Desire was the Co.
And very efficient partner she proved,
as thoroughly capable Yankee woman,
who understood almost every sort of
work, from the labOrs Of the garden and
Il %, 81 ~
mysteries Of the needle. So that be-
tween them they evolved considerable
degree of comfort from very small ma
terials, and the four or five years sue
ceeding the death Of Mr.. Brooks were
happy ones in spite of bereavement and
struggle.
At nineteen came the great trial of
Margaret's young womanhood. Her
sailor lover, as brave and honest fell
low as ever sailed blue water, went
down on his last voyage, ship and crew
and Captain lost, and never heard of
more. Nothing was left to tell the tale
but some wave-beaten fragments picked
up by another vessel on q far-away
tropic shore, and recognized as belong
ing TO the unfortunate Petrel. 1t was
then, above all, when the tidings reached
the little New England town where the
promised wife of the wrecked sailor sat
happy over her work, waiting for the
| ship that never would come back, that
Aunt Desire proved her right to the title
of friend accorded her. No one but
Margaret ever would know what depths
of sympathy and thoughtful tenderness
lay hidden beneath that commonplace
seeming, as none but Aunt Desire would
ever know in what bitter need of such
ministrations Margaret stood. Reserved
and quiet, she went through her consci-
entious round of daily duties, betraying
to the ordinary eye but little of the suf-
fering (which tortured her life, until
months of patient struggle had lived it
down. She put self aside, and taking
another affection into the vacant place
in her heart, devoted herself entirely to
her little sister. The child was delicate
and capricious, and needed a guidance
no less strong than loving. Such she
had found in Margaret, under whose al
most maternal care she had thriven, un-
til now at eighteen she was, as her Aunt
Desire had said, the very picture of her
sister vt the same age. But Laura S
girlhood was to have happier fate than
Margaret's, for she was soon to be mar
ried to one whom she loved, a man in
every respect an excellent match for
her. To prepare suitably for this mar.
riage, which in a worldly point was
above what Laura's prospects would
warrant, Margaret with natural feel.
ing was straining her small resources to
their utmost. And now, as a browning
sacrifice, she had given the girl her own
wedding-dress, the robe that was to have
been the sign of such happiness and
hopes fulfilled, that had been, instead
the token of so many pains and disap-
pointments and sorrows bravely borne
And Laura took it with tear that end
ed in a smile, not realizing, in her vel
untroubled heart, all the strong pstho'
of the story that lay wrapped in those
shining folds.
The next day after the gift witnessed
the cutting off the breaths of the wed
ding-dress so opportunely come TO light
Aunt Desire fairly groaned as the scis
sors ran through the silken folds
whether for sad associations or because
of the sin Of cutting up such costly ma
terial was not plain. Laura's eye
sparkled, as one by one the rich length
rustled down on the sheet spread Ou
for the purpose. Naturally it was
great occasion to her. She woulC
scarcely let any one else touch the dress
and vowed that she would set ever,
stitch in it with her own hand, whicl
she was able to do, since, thanks to he
sister's careful teaching, she was 81
adept in the intricacies Of needlework
"Now go away, Aunt Desire" " sh
said with laughing impatience, whel
the last breadth had fallen on the whit
glittering heap, "take yourself off
please, and leave all this finery to me
The idea that any body can't manag
her own wedding-dressl Why, it come
by nature"
7" That's the way girls think amos
always" answered Aunt Desire, re
provingly. "Any thing they've Sc
their hearts on must come by nstur'
they make sure, but they don't alway
get the desire of their hearts. An,
'pears to me you're over light-minded
Laury, considerin' all things. Whel
you remember whose weddin'-dr
this was to have been, think you ough
, to receive it in fear and soberness.
"And think" rejoined Laura wit
: pout of vexation, "that you needn'
t take me up like that, just because
/ don't wear a long face over my Ow
A wedding dress. Margaret never mean
it so, know, and certainly she's tn
one to mind, if any body"
! Well, l s'pose you're right, child,
said Aunt Desire, with sigh. "We'v
got our different ways of viewin' things
5 and one of us hain't no call to judg
s another. Only there's time for a
i. things, as the scriptur' says, and 1 don