The Redwood gazette. [volume] (Redwood Falls, Minn.) 1873-1940, 1880-10-21
A JAPANESE JAR.

-CustN -. SsISns
JAPANESE JAR.
~ think it cruel, absolutely cruel,
and can't understand it, and never
shall, said pretty Amy Iselin, with a sob
in her voice and a mist of unshed tears
blurring her vision and making the
gorgeous pattern of the jar which she
held dance in magnified proportions be-
fore her eyes.
cit wasn't dear aunty that was
cruel.' replied the calmer Nav. "She
meant to give us this house and all she
had. know she did, for she told me
SO hundred times. Why. recollect
perfectly her putting her hand on that
little writing desk, and saying: Write
your letters here sometimes, dear. 1t
will make you think of me- Do you
think she nd have said that, if she
had meant that Cousin Elisha should
have the desk? know the will gives
all to him; but there's some mistake. l
am convinced, some horrid, dreadful
mistake. ksso,o aunty never meant to
leave everything to Cousin Elisha, and
to us only her clothes and that jar,
which our father broue hit her home from
his first long voyage. The will says
so; but that doesn't make the least diff
ference in what Think
THAT will,' broke in impetuous
Amy, ''is dated seventeen years ago,
when you were not four years old and
l almost baby. know as well as YOU
do that she made another. Nobody
need tell me that. But where is it?
What did she care for Cousin Elisha?
She never saw him and hardly ever
spoke of him; and how dearly she loved
us both. especially you, May! l am
sure she never meant to leave us out in
the cold, with our beggarly seven hum
dred a year; just enough to starve on
somewhere in the country, but not
enough to keep roof over our heads,
or give us any pleasure, or" A sob.
The room in which the sisters sat was
one OF those charming old-fashioned
rooms which still survive here and there
in city streets, which the pillow of inn
provement has so far spared. 1t had
panneled wainscotting, painted white;
high white chimney-piece, with tluted
pilasters; and toothed" cornice of
carved wood. The furniture was dark
with age-only the blooming girls and
the old-fashioned 'bow pot" of jonquils
and tulips on the table spoke of youth
and spring; but over all these breathed
that choice aroma which makes quaint
things even more delightful than new
the aroma of well-ordered, century-old
home.
1.-The jar is worth great, great
deal, Miss Peters says" remarked MAY,
after a pause of silence. ''She thinks
we could get four hundred dollars for
it, if we sent it to Titfany's.''
docs she really? l can't bear to
think of selling it, though; only sup
pose we must. Here, May, put it on
the side-table, please. It's dreadfully
heavy"
How do such things happen? Was
there some failure in responsive be-
tween the two vOlitions, as Amy lifted
and May held out her hands to receive
the jar, or was the accident result of
some tricksy Fate, bound not to be
thwarted in its malicious designs? Ger
tain it is that, between the two, it
slipped and fell. Nays rapid clutch
only gave it a new and rapid direction
toward the marble hearth-stone, on
which it struck heavily. With scream
of dismay, Amy threw herself on her
knees and gathered it up. Too late.
The jar was wreck. A large hole APP
peared on one side, and there several
fragments lay on the floor.
1T is a clean break: that is one
comfort. 1t will rivet beautifully" de.
clared May, when the first shock of hor-
ror was past.
But of what use is q broken lar?
We can't sell it. No one will want it
now"
mo, supposenot; but we will have
it mended and keep it in remembrance
of papa and aunty.''
Its just our luck, isn't it?'' sighed
Amy, as May wrapped the pieces in
paper and deity made one parcel of
the three. "Just our luck. We only
had one thing in the world, and now
we've smashed that"
ut is too, too bad" said Nav, sor-
rowfully, as she turned the kew of a
little cupboard at the side of the Chin
ney and laid the parcel of broken china
on a shelf inside. As she did SO, she
gave a little exclamation.
"What is it?'' asked her sister.
Nothing. Only I've cut my finger
on this broken lamp-chimney. Don't
look SO frightened. It isn't much.
Hardly more than a scratchr' wrapping
her handkerchief about it as she spoke.
:" But really, it's quite dangerous hay
ing such things about. Of what DOS
sible use is broken lamp-chimney.
Bridget" to a maid, who Just then
broken glass tomorrow. 1t is of no
use, and some one will hurt themselves
badly if it stays here.'
"Yes'm."
''What q queer habit that was of
aunty's to keep everything, whether it
was of any use or not" said Amy, med
itatively, when Bridget, after lighting
the gas, had left the room. "It makes
it stranger still that her will should be
missing. l told you didn't I?) that
Ben Allen is almost sure that his ia
Their mentioned, about five years ago,
That ne had just been drawing up a
Will for aunty. That was the year after
we came here to live. Oh! if only old
MIR. Allen hadn't died. Don't YOU re-
member, too, how aunty spent DAYS
last spring in looking over papers. and
tying them into bundles, and SORTING
and labelling? 1t seemed as If she had
a presentiment of what was going to
happen, and she wanted to put ali in
order"
''What became of the papers she
threw asidea' asked May, with a sudden
thought.
=, Il don't know. Tho rag-man took
them, l presume.
well, there's no use in dwelling
longer on what might have BEEN" said
May, sagaciously. s.What is, is all we
have to trust to, which means that you
and have just seven hundred year to
live on, with aunty's old things to help
US along at first And We must be
brave and ses what We can make out
At t."