Washington standard. [volume] (Olympia, Wash. Territory) 1860-1921, 1880-04-09

"Ah, that's the fault you see, Of
having no money. Good evening""
He resumed his work, and the girl,
scarcely cheerei hy this little episode,
went, with a heavy heart, upstairs.
Mrs. Morton WAS so ill. she was lying
on her bed. The candle was in the
room, and in the parlor CRATE burnt q
few sparks of fire, over which was a
small saucepan. On tue table was a
tea. tray, and portion of previous
days loaf. 1t was such depressing
welcome home after the weary, weary
day, that. with difficulty, the poor girl
could control her emotion.
"Is that you, Laura" inquired the
widows feeble voice.
Yes, mother"
"Come to me, my child"
Laura pressed her white hands to
her bosom, made an effort, and passed
into the bedroom. But the mother 8
first word beat down all her noble
souled heroic self-repression.
Laura, dear. have you had better
success, to-day ?"
The girl dropped on a chair, and
burying her face on the coverlet, burst
into paroxysm of weeping.
mo mother" she sobbed, hysteri-
cally. d" It's the same old, old story {;
can get nothing. What shall we do :?
feel heart.broken.
Laura, my dear child" calculated
the mother, fondly embracing her, " do
not you give way What, indeed, will
become of us then? My brave, brave
girl, do not weep thus y
Pray let me, mother I shall be
better after it."
She apparently was right, for at the
end of few moments she looked up
calmer, her tears ceased.
There she smiled ); 4" I am better
now. It's good to give way at times,
you know. AT least, one can't help it,
and oar lot is so hard but we shall get
used to it."
Hard 1t breaks my heart to con-
template it when think of you Laura.
What different future did I ami your
dear father intend you, love But who
could imagine such a villain as Jesse
Bancroft over existed -
"Ah, me--ah, me to look round at
this place, and remember the pleasant
home which once was ours Now we
are alone, with not single friend in
the world"
Not one? Oh, yes, mother, believe
me, one J. cried the girl, quickly. d" lie
Dayton will be true-trust me, he
will"
Why then, Laura, has he not
written?"
Il do not know--T can not tell" ex-
claimed the daughter, piteously: "but
oh, pray, pray, mother, do not take
that hope from me Let me believe in
Dayton. 1t is my only support in this
bitter misery y
The widow, touched by the pleading
countenance, was about to reply, when,
interrupting herself, she said, Laura,
hear some one in the parlor. See
who it is, DEAR"
The girl obeyed, and started at the
weird scene she beheld.
Seated before the CRATE, on three
legged stool, was the cobbler, yet in
leathern apron and cap. On his knee
was bellows, which he was working
with consummate skill, evidently q
master of the art, sending the Goals into
bright blazes that threw flashes of lurid
color over the quaint figure and the
room.
Upon hearing Laura, he turned al
most with snarl
How do you expect to boil sauce
pan with such fire as this ?" he
growled. "Never was halter as mad
as you, I'm certain. Now, look at that !;
amt it picture?"
Laura did look, and saw thatlnot only
were the Goals increased, but that they
were not from their own store.
1t is quite cheering" she managed
to say, but-but l fear, Mr.. Brad
shaw, you have been roobing your
SELF"
Robbing myself ?-me ?-not bit.
I'm miser. Didn't you hear the boys
call me so-Phil, the miser ?" he
snapped. I'd rob anybody sooner than
myself. I'm miser, and I'm proud of
it. Some men are called painter and
poet. Well, I'm called cobbler and
miser."
Really !" said Laura, a little amused
little frightened, looking at the glow
ing Goals; Il should have scarcely
thought So"
"That shows your ignorance, re-
sponded Phil. "Can't you see, by cal
culation, it's cheaper to keep up one
good fire than two small ones so I'm
going to sit by yours. Also, clubbing
two persons tea together is cheaper
than taking it alone. It makes 'only one
for the pot necessary. You perceive,
now, am miser. I want to have tea
here"
Laura looked at the table upon it
was new loaf, fresh butter, eggs, and
a neat packet of tea.
"Oh, Mr.. Bradshaw-"she began.
Are you going to refuse me?" he
snapped. "Mayn't have tea?"
How could I refuse she be-
gan, when he interrupted by
Then don't lose time. See to the
kettle. I'll boil the eggs"
Similar behavior from some people
might have given offense, but there was
such quaint, odd way about Phil that
robbed it of that power. He vas SO old,
and snapped and snarled as if really his
suggestion was the result of deep
rooted meanness, instead OF the con-