Perrysburg journal. (Perrysburg, Wood Co., O. [Ohio]) 186?-1965, 1882-03-10

was one to whom she was, for Ezekiel
Garlic was growing m old man, and
more and moro the burden Of his oare
and feebleness he rested on her strong
young shoulders. AS the years went BY
!" as kind as an own child y he was wont
to say of her, and when at last he was
laid down by the side of his wife IL was
found that he had left tangible proof of
his sense OF her devotion, and some
whispered of disappointment in his sor.
"To his beloved and faithful niece
Treasure Reid" ran his will, was be-
queathed the use OF the old farm during
her lifetime, and the sole reversal OF II
should she survive Israel Some thought
they detected shade of chagrin on Is
rae's face, but none could be sure. The
farm was remote. of small market value.
He professed to be perfectly satisfied.
"Just as would have wished it," he
assured Treasure when she spoke to him
half tremulously on the subject. at
would have seemed sacrilegc TO have
yielded the dear old home to strangers,
but you are part of IL, and it will be
such u comfort when life is cold and
dreary to turn TO its shelter for refuge,
and to always think of you MS here,
keeping alive the memories of those who
have been so dearto us both" AS Treas
urc heard him hope that half uncon-
sciously she had cherished all these long
years went out, and with n stilled sigh
she buried the dream and turned to her
solitary life, solitary, but not idle.
Whatever had been taken or denied, the
healthful solace of n busy life remained,
and Treasure Reid was, rs the phrase
runs. capable" woman. Her house
keeping was marvel of neatness, her
bread was the whitest, her jellics the
clearcst, and her butter the sweetest in
the region around, as the neighbors had
reason to know, for many dainty went
out across the fields to the sick and suf.
fcring, while her hospitality was as
generous as it was cordial. In farm
matters she was equally efficient. AS
her hired man was wont to boast,
".there want man in town could
equal her in kalculatin', " and of
the result and profits Israel received q
carefully divided half beside the well
come that always awaited him when
ever necessity or inclination induced a
return. A fitfully restless man, drifted
hither and thither by the currents OF
excitement or circumstance, years and
habits were leaving their impress on
him, his wit had hardened into mock
ing cinicism, his high spirits coarsened
into boastful egotism. Treasure was
not wholly blind to the change; she
saw, too, the averted looks of old
friends and half-suppressed whispers of
disapproval. But they only quickened
her old loyalty, and led her to throw
the mantle of aflectionate charity over
his faults. Did she not know how hard
life had been to him, the rebuffs he had
suffered, the sharp thrusts his sensitive
nature had reccivedp Where others
only saw the seedy, would-be orator and
man of letters, the hanger-on of poll
tics, the apostle of erratic and futile
movements, she beheld her early hero,
her lifelong idol. There came a day,
however, when Israel Garlic, wasted,
broken man, crept back to the old gray
house for the last time. Then whatever
of disappointment or doubts had lurked
latent in Treasures heart disappeared
wholly and forever. With more than
her old-time tenderness she watched
tllt' ltuiltu llllll, SioWiN pam
and weariness life ebbed away. And
under that shadow of death Treasure
Reid spent some of the happiest weeks
of her life; time seemed to have folded
back its pages to the sunny one, where
she and her cousin were boy and girl to-
gether. Old forgotten memories seemed
to start up in Israel's heart, an affection
for the old familiar ways and scenes.
To Treasure he clung with childish te-
nacity, arm in arm with herhe revisited
many of their once familiar haunts. and
when he had grown too weak for that,
he would lie for hours in the warm sum-
mer days, under the great pines, look.
ing off, as with sense of strange rest
fulness, at the quiet fields: sometime:
he made querulous complaints oi
his broken hopes, and the plans he had
purposed, but for the most part he was
very patient and gentle and quiet. Only
once did he refer to the past, and that
was Just at the close. He had been ly'
ing propped up with pillows, watching
with the wistful look of one who knows
it is for the last time the sunset color:
fade from the sky and the twilight
deepen along the wooded horizon. As
his faithful watcher bent over him, she
saw that his eyes were wet with tears
"Treasure, he whispered family, sc
Treasure, If I.could only live my life
over again how different would'make
it for you us well as myself They
were almost his last words, and before
morning, supported in the arms tha
had always been his stay and shield, hi
went down into the valley and shadow
of Death. 1T was an August day, still
and golden as that so many years before
when the signing pines had murmured
of blissful nature to Israel Carle, wher
they bore his coffin out under theil
somber shadows; the day lilies wer,
again in blossom, filing all the mir witt
their heavy fragrance, and Il cluste
of them lay on the dead mans breas
over the still heart that had purpose(
so much and wrought so little. Afte
Israels death, Treasure Reid aged fast
little by little she gave up the cares ant
labors to the man and his wife who had
long lived with her, less and less sht
went from home, save to church or tC
homes of suffering or mourning. Ther'
she was ever present; tireless, efficient
attending to the dreary details, light
ening heavy burdens; a very tower o
strength. More and more she grew
in the habit of sitting by herself in th,
room where Israel had died, the room
that looked ont on the little pine-shadet
yard and westward hills. Often sh
was found turning over his oil,
papers, strange medley of frag
mentary poems, speeches, pleas; it j
doubtful if she understood them. Per
haps, that she did not, made her regar'
them the more as tokens of his ability
and say as she was wont to: "Hi
talents were great; it seemed sad tina
he could not have lived till they wer
recognized Her grief invested he
with simple pathos, but she was not
poetic figure; a stranger would hav
passed unnoticed the plain, gray-haire,
woman of antiquated dress and stiil
formed manner. Her life had bee
narrow, restricted, with few opportuni
ties, little diversity OF the culture ant
accomplishments of the world; beyon