Daily globe. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1878-1884, 1881-07-24

thing to eat) she might knit and crochet
some of the worsted articles she was in
the habit of making so artistically for
herself, and sell them to-Mr. Lees en-
ployer, was about to say, when | was
interrupted by shrill Shrek
"Work for store" she cried. "I'd
starve first
"You wretched girl" added my aunt,
chow dare you think of such a thing?
Ethel, my darling child, calm yourself"
cit is not enough that strangers should
presume upon our poverty" joined in
Cleanthe, also frowning upon me, "but
one bound to us by ties of blood, though
it must be confessed more alien than
many stranger would be, must advance
ideas that shock and wound us. Imag-
inc, turning to her brother Roland,
who lay on the lounge in the room, COM
placently regarding himself in the mir
ror on the opposite wall-"that imperti-
nent Mrs Bradshaw coming here this
morning. with the air of doing kind
ness, too, to offer me a position in her
academy"
"Great heavens" exclaimed Roland,
springing to his feet--and the cause must
be mighty one that brings Roland to
his feet "One of my sisters teacher!
Great heavens!" and he went stamping
about the room in new suit of clothes
aunt had just paid for by parting with
her handsome pearl ring.
"Whateveri is done, we can do nothing"
sobbed Ethel.
"Of course not" replied Roland,
grandly; "the women of our family never
work.
l thought to myself, "Nor the men
neither, except poor old uncle, who is
tagging at desk from morning until
night"
"But our income must be increased"
said Alethea, looking up from her novel,
and joining in the conversation for the
first time Alethea was our eldest, and
still wore her hair in the fashion Of her
youth, loose curl dangling over each
ek-bone, being fully persuaded that
no other fashion was half so graceful or
becoming.
discharge the chamber-maid, pro-
posed Ethel, "and let Dorothea 4 am
Dorothea) do her work. 1t is about all
she is fit for She never had bit of fine
feeling or style about her."
"No, she never had; she always would
bite her bread,'' sighed my aunt, ''and
she has seemed sadly out of place among
my children. She comes of a working
race. and her ideas and tastes all smack
of trade rade-trade." / discovered in
| after years that my aunt's grandmother
on the maternal side made fortune out
of tobacco.
"Bet discharging the chamber maid
| won't help much" said Alethea.
"It will not" agreed Roland. "What
is saved thereby will no more than find
me in the little extras no society man
can do without"
'tDear! dear" aunt took up the bur-
den again, s'ceuld I have foreseen that
your father would have come down in
this way, l never would have married
him. l really don't know what is to be
done, unless we emigrate to some country
place where we are unknown, and where
| it don't matter how we live.'
"The country!' screamed her children
in chorus. "Better death at once"
Ican't imagine where l got the cour-
age to do so after my late sharp rebuffs,
but this moment / blurted out something
! that had been in my mind for several
weeks: "Why could not Aleathea and
Ethel room together, and Alethea's room,
which is the pleasantest in the house, be
let to lodger?-one who would
But here paused, abruptly. Alethea
| had tainted in the arms of my aunt, who,
glancing at me over the top OF her eldest
daughters head, commanded me in her
deepest tone (aunt has rather a bass voice.
| to ''leave the room-instantly."
But in short time, during which
things had been getting worse and worse,
and we had been reduced to rice pud-
| dings for dessert on weekdays and apple
tarts on Sundays, was allowed to pre-
pare an advertisement for the mornings
| paper, in which was offered to s'an elder
| ly gentleman, who must have excellent
| references, a fine room in the house of a
| family of refinement, who had never be-
fore taken lodger, forEthe privilege of
occupying which he would be expected
to pay liberal equivalent"
l disapproved highly Of the wording of
| this call for help, but my aunt and cou-
sins insisted upon its being couched in
| these very terms, and so was compelled
| to yield, inwardly convinced that it would
| bring no reply.
But it did. The very afternoon of the
morning it appeared, a carriage with a
trunk strapped on behind drove up to
our door. An old gentleman got out,
hobbled up our steps, and rang our door
bell.
"You must see him, Dorothea,' said
my aunt, leaving the parlor, followed by
a train Of her children "It's your affair
altogether. will have nothing to do
with it.''
"We none of us will have anything to
do with it, chimed in my cousins. 1--WE
were not born with the souls of lodging
house keepers and away they sailed as
opened the door to the second--a little
louder than the frst-ring of the caller.
He was short, slightly formed old
gentleman, with bright black eyes, bushy
white eyebrows, and long white mus
tache and beard.
"You have room to let?" he asked.
81 have" answered, ushering him in
to the parlor, where he glanced keenly
around, and then as keenly into my face,
| while he announced in decisive tone:
81 have come to take it. NV luggage
is at the door. Be so kind as to tell me
where to direct the man to carry it.''
"But'-I began, in hesitating way,
utterly confused by the strangers
brusque, not to say high handed man.
ner
"But me no buts,'' quoted the old
gentleman. II am Amos Griffin, lately
from England, where have been living
for the last tUpntv voorc C;,,o ,o-1.S