Saint Mary's beacon. [volume] (Leonard Town, Md.) 1867-1983, 1882-08-17
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"Saideel saideel Where are vouI
Why don't you answer me when
calf"
"Yes. Aunt Leah-I am coming in
q minute"
"In q minute T. sarcastically re.
peated the old lady" 'It's always liz
a minute With you, Sadie But
suppose, because I'm old and help.
less, my comfort is a matter of no con.
sequence whatever"
Dear Aunt Leah, you must never
think that T. answered . bright, CHEEKY
voice; and Saidee Lynn came into
the room, with a little tray, where
! was arranged, on q snowy napkin
some tea-biscuits, half dozen pink
radishes, few thin-cut shavings Of
smoked beef and . little pot Of tea,
with q cup and saucer of old blue CHI
ma which would have been invalua-
BILE to q collector. sYOu see, I had
you in my mind ell the time, Aunt
Leah" she said, merrily. 81 gath
eped the radishes from our own gar
den. Don't they look nice p
AuAt Leah. q withered, little, old
lady, in q dress Of worn black silk,
a1d sharp. gray eyes, peering through
gold-bouRd spectacles, tasted Of the
tea and shook her head. "It's too
weak" said she. "It isn't 6t to
drink I" s-afk
4 put in al the tea there was in
the canisber, Aunt Leah, said Saidee,
with = distressed oonnteuance.
Aunt Leah pushed away the cup.
with an expression Of 1istashe.
1t is as ] might have expected, said
she. My nieces have too little thought
for my comfort to sta&y my poor and
few necessities. Never mind the tea;
| can drink cold water, dare say I
Saidee wrnng her hands in despair.
How could she tell this weak, feeble
old lady. above whose declining years
hum the threading Damocles sword
Of heart-disease, of their narrowing
circumstances, of the empty exche-
quer, he elamOring creditors, the pit
iful st ghts to which they were re-
duced
WIZ shall l dor she asked her
self, as she went slowly back to the
little kitchen of the ruinous Gothic
cottage, which they had obtained for
a ridiculously low rent because it was
ruinous. I've borrowed of the rec
tors wife twice, and I'm ashamed to
60 there again, and I've sold every
thing can lay my hands on. But,
glaneing ur at a picture which hung
in the hall beyond, there's the Velas-
quez still. A Velasquez is always
worth money. Belle will scold about
parting With it. and Aunt Leah will
mourn; but We can't live on air and
dew, like the fairies. I'll take it down
to Mr.. Bruner, the artist, this after
noon, and ask him to get us purcha-
ser. Poor people, such as we are,
can't afford 10 retain old family rel
ics.
And 50, when Aunt Leah was in
dulging in her afternoon nap, and
Belle, the beauty Of the family, was
ironing out the hounces of her white
muslin dress for the morrOw's picnic,
valiant Saidse climbed on q chair,
took the unframed picture down ct
was the head Of some old Spanish
grandee. with . stif-pointed ruiz, and
an evil leer in the eyesl, wrapped IL
up in newspaper, and crept silently
across the meadows with it to the vii
lage.
Dir. Bruner was in his studio
grixzled headed, blunt old gentleman,
in . belted linen blouse and faded
velvet cap. He nodded kindly 70
Sai.lee, who had once taken . few les
sons from him, but when she display
ed the canvas he shook his head.
How much doyou think IL is woxth?'
asked Saidee, wistfnlly.
sNothingf said Mr. Bruner.
but, erred the girl. it Is Velas-
qusxr
TAaf Velasquez r said Mr.. Bra
ner. contemptuonsly. My dear, there
isn't : picture dealer in the country
who would give City cents forit. It's