Millheim Journal. [volume] (Millheim, Pa.) 1876-1984, 1882-09-07
"Call 1t fifty-dollars, said the one

the paper mills don't allow fellow any
thing"
"Your cheating me-" said the lad.
severely"
'I'm cheating myself, Mrs. Mere
dith, said Abe Seeley fervently.
"Land of graclousl there's days as
don't fairly make my expenses.
This was in the sultry glow of th'
September moontide.
AT sunset. the rag-wagon stopped
alongside of deacon Franklin's ole
mill, where Charley, the deacon's eldest
son, in his broad straw hat and work
ing-costume, was drawing bucketfu
of cold sparkling water.
"Never was mortal 80 thirsty in al
nay life, said Abe Seeley, as he reached
out for the gould shell.
"Well, Charley Franklin, have yor
finished that there course of divinity
lectures yet?"
"What that you've got i'll your
wagon, Abram?" said young Franklin.
Books? 81 didn't know you dealt in
general literature.
"All's fish as comes to my net, " said
Abe SeeleY, with a grin.
"'Rollin's Ancient History ehY
said Franklin, carelessly taking up o
volume. us the set completed"
every blessed volume" nodded the
rag vendor. Don't ye want to trade
for them, Charley Franklin, I'll sell
'em to you cheap"
Young Franklin was a book-lover-
he glanced longlngly at the ancient
covers.
"What do You call cheap?" said he.
And then and there began n dlplo-
matte course of bargaining, from which
Bismarck himself might have profited.
Charley Franklin, being thoroughly
in earnest, was at a disadvantage how
ever, and although he secured the
coveted literary treasure, he still felt
that he had been cheated.
While Abram Seeley went rejoicing
on his way, muttering to himself:
"That wasn't such a poor bargain,
that there wasn't.
Ten thousand dollars! Oh, Char
ley, ten thousand dollars!" cried Mary
Meredith, in accents of incredulous
delight. "You are rich, Charley. You
can go on with your divinity lectures
now, and we can be married whenever
we please"
doesn't it seem exactly like fairy
tale?" sa Franklin. with smile
''To think that 1 read through four of
the battered old volumes before / came
to the one in which the ten thousand
dollars were neatly fatened out between
the leaves, touched with the least
possible speck of gum arabic. at the
four corners, to prevent them from
falling out.
"What!" cried aunt Polly. "Ten
thousand dollars? What Oh earth are
you talking about, Charley Franklin?"
About some old volumes that |
bought last September-just before
your husband died you know-out of a
rag wagon exclaimed Charlie Frank
lin.
81 got them at a bargain, for they
were real antiquities in their way; and
I'm trying to get q little classical
library together, by degrees, and,
gummed between the leaves of volume
five, found these old bank notes"
Mrs. Meredith stared, then grew
alternately red and pale.
''You-you didn't tell us the name Of
book" she gasped, instinctively
putting her hand ur to her throat.
"Didn t II" said Charley. "I thought
of course, L had mentioned it.
'Tt was history Rollins Ancient
History"
Mrs. Meredith gave grasp at MarY's
arm to keep herself from falling.
"MaryP' she eJaculated. "Mary, it
was the very pile of old books that /
sold myself-uncle Benaiah's books.
lit was uncle Benalah's boarded
fortune that flung into the rag-wagon
that day."
"What does it matter, aunt Polly y
said Mary, eff it comes back to the
original owner aqain?"
"Of course, it is yours. Charley will
restore it to you at Once."
"Of course [ shall, young Franklin
declared, when matters had been ex
planned to him.
'Do you think I could for an instant
retain money which was not rightfuIly
my own?"
'But it is yours, sAid Mrs. Meredith
recovering herself. "Yours by bons
fide purchase and sale,
"Let it go. UucIe Benaiah's s money
1t has only blighted my life with hopes
unfulflled and ambition that never wa
satisfied"
"My poor old husband died. ant
never knew that 1T was his, and shal
be better off without it,"
"Take it. you and Mary. Maxi
yourself home with it, and Heavel
grant that it may be happy one. ;"
And so the young people took her a
her word, and were nappy.
But in the prettiest southern angle O.
the little Gothic cottage, which thu
young clergyman inhabits. is nook
which is always called: