Weekly Chillicothe crisis. (Chillicothe, Livingston Co., Mo.) 1878-19??, 1882-02-09
AUNT MARSTON'S LEGACY.

Aunt Marston was dead, and l sat
looking at the legacy she had left me
in her will. "To my beloved nece,
Nellie Stanhope, the faithful nurse,
the loving comforter of declining years,
l bequeath my gold ball earrings, witt
the brooch to match, marked with my
initials in black enamel" Thus ran
the passage referring to me.
When my cousin, Lucinda Martson,
handed me the little morocco case she
could scarcely repress a smile of tr.
umph as she thought Of the great diff.
ference a few short weeks had made in
our relative positions.
l had been brought up by Aunt Mars.
ston. had lived in ease and luxury all
my life, while my cousin had been
obliged for years to earn her own liv-
ing by sewing. | had always looked
upon Greylands as my home, while she
had never been invited to spend even
week at the delightful old country
house on the Hudson since she was a
child. And now she had come into
possession of the old homestead, and |,
the favorite, whom she had hated and
enyied for so many years, was put off
with this insignificant bequestl
"After all your tOadying," she said
with sneer, at is too bad to be put
off with a shilling; but if Mr. Lewis"
the other eXeeutor-"knows anything
about it, they are worth a great many
shillngs, tor he says they are solid
eighteen carat gold, and that Ormulu,
who had them, would give you $50 for
them to-day. However, you are well
ceme to them. And now l suppose
you will see the necessity of looking
about for another home"
The bitter, insulting words, the desc.
late, deserted feeling at being thus
cruelty turned out of the only home
knew, Overcame the unnatural calm
ness with which l had hitherto borne
my irreparable loss, and l threw my
self on my bed and wept, as l never in
my short. happy life thought it posi-
| D'e could weep.
l don't know how long it lasted, but
when became calm my heart still
ached, but my brain seemed clearer,
and could look my situation in the
face. | was no sycophant, / knew that
well, for | loved my aunt dearly, and
had always given her a daughters
willing devotion, without one thought
beyond the present. even told Charlie
Burnet, to whom was engaged with
her consent, and whom / loved with
all my heart, that "we'd better bide a
wee, for | could not leave my sec
ond mother to spend her last days alone,
or be cared for by hirelings.
Aunt Eunice had often said to me:
"You and Charlie will not have to
wait long, dear child, and l will see
that your future is provided for"
1 did lot care for myself, but felt
so disappointed for his sake, when
found that | was left absolutely penni.
less.
think now, as l look back, that af.
ter she became paralyzed she wanted
to say something to me about it; for as
she lay there so white and still, almost
like piece of statuary, the muscles
about her lips would twitch as if try
ing to form words, and the ever restless
eyes would turn on me with an earnest
appealing look like the yearping, pitt
full expression of a dumb animal try.
ing to make its suffering understood.
But she died and made no sign, and
now Charlie must plod along in the
old way, and must try to earn my
own living, for / had made up my mind
that 1 would never be an additional
burden on the poor fellow.
threw down the jewel case with a
sigh of disappointment as l thought il
all over, and then, ashamed of myself
took it up again and kissed the vel
known trinkets, in fact, the only ones
my aunt ever wore, and put then
tenderly away among my other treasures
her gifts and Charlie's-in the trunk
| was packing.
Alas, for the frailty of human reso
lutions! Charlie would not hear of my
earning my own living, and though he
did not exactly threaten to commit sui
eide if l refused, he looked so utterly
miserable and forlorn that Twas forced
to reconsider my decision.
Charlie and l are quite old married
folks now, and four little, curly-pated
restless bodies tumble about in tht
small, poor room that serves me as {
bedroom, ,sitting-room and nursery, com
ing to mamma with their small hurt
and pains to be kissed well and petted
while often my head and heart ar,
both aching.
So many little mouths to feed, sC
many little limbs to clothe and sew for
eight little feet that are never still t
cover with shoes that wear out to-
fast. 1t is no wonder that Charlie ha.
to wear his coat till it is threadbare
and my only best dress is my old blacl
silk made over again and again, which
with lace rufiles at the wrists ant
throat, and Aunt Marston's legacy
! forms my gala-day toilet.
l would not complain to myself, bu
Charlie looks so pale and tired, and hi
, couch gets worse and worse every day
If he only could go into the countr,
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