The Vancouver independent. (Vancouver, W.T. [Wash.]) 1875-1910, 1883-10-11
PIERRE BRANTOME'S GRANDDAUGH.
TER.

metaphorical camel's back. The patience
of Charlotte Brsntome, usually equal to
the exigencies of the occasion, was ex-
hausted. The twins, as a matter of
course, were the culprits. They, how
ever, with the complacency natural to
boys of or thereabouts, were indiffer-
ent to the tempest of despair which
ragged in their sisters breast. They had
considerably RETAINED from adding de-
ceit to their guilt, but had confessed
fully and unreservedly to rifling the
canary's nest, to tearing jacket and
dropping hat down the we'll, to eating
the strawberries that were saved for sup
per, and to catching theii most faithful
hen with fishhook. The fishhook rep
resented the straw; Charlotte the camel.
She could have borne anything better
than downright cruelty developed IN one
90 early in one of her own blood. She
never was boy.
"And q man was here" went on Pop
sew; "a big man." volunteered Wopsey,
the other twin. "And he asked us about
everything, and we said our mother
wasn't very we'll and our sister was an
old maid schoola'am."
Charlotte WINGED. Where had he
picked up that expression? Aud had it
come to that?
"You must not talk to strange men
about mother or me. What did he
want?"
"He waited to see you"
"Me?" Visions of tramps, of spying
burglars. only they had nothing to
"burgle," as Popsey had said one day,
came into her mind.
ssuo., al ko 1ook9v
"He was beautiful" "He was dread
full" said the twins in duet.
Further questioning elected these
facts: He was young; he was old; he was
short; he was tall; he wore spectacles; he
had mustache, and was bug man. In
the last and browning fact the boys
agreed.
Practice had made Miss Brantome
tolerable clairvoyant, SO far 81 reading
those two small minds was concerned.
She jumped at the conclusion that some
wandering naturalist chasing on elusive
bug. had CHANGED that way, and gave the
subject no more attention. She had
other things to think Of than "bug-men"
or any men, and the problems of how to
provide new hat for Wopsey and how
to instil remorse into the hearts Of her
charges drove other thoughts away.
Sitting down on the low doorstep OF
the house that had been home to her for
six and twenty years she tried to reason
it out. The sun was yet high; the days
were ut their longest. Behind her flowed
the tireless river; in front of her, across
the prairie, the bills we're green. In the
field OF rye over the way CLEANED large
white wooden cross. Her grandfather,
in whose veins flowed some OF the blue
blood of France, had bought home in
this western country whom the remnant
Of an Indian tribe had still property to
sell. The deed of sale provided for tho
preservation of their little burying-
ground. Here among the sinking graves
Pierre Brantome had built the cross. 1t
had been renewed several times since
then, but had always seemed the same,
and was ever the patent protector, SOL
EMMY holding its white arms out IS IL to
defend the Wondering sleepers. The
grain grew thick around, but the tiny
village of the dead was never disturbed
by spade or pillow.
Old Pierre, however, had never pros
pered. Neither did Pierre the younger:
and one night when riding home his
horse SHE'D at the white cross in the
moonlight and threw him with his head
against q stone. He left no legacy but
the homestead and debt to his wife and
children. There WAS gap Of twenty
years between Charlotte and the twin
babies, and she really had third infant
ON her hands, for the mother was nothing
more useful than that after her husbs nd's
death. She Was not feeble minded ex
actly, but painfully gentle, strange and
unsccountable.
Charlotte shouldered her burdens with
brave heart. Her French accent for
Grandfather Brantomes blood had never
filtered through Canada-brought her
employment in . school in tho town near
by. The long walks back and forth
kept the roses In her cheeks, the boys
we're -sometimes-and abe. being
good, was happy. II requires leisure TO
Be successfully miserable.
The cross typi6ed - her the daily
martyrdom Of private lifs." And now,
looking u il, her heart grew light. Tho
new hat would cost bat tribe. Surely
there we're moro strawberries ripe inthe
garden, the canary would lay moro eggs,
Shs jacket could be msnded, and old
6psckls had proved superior 70 the 6sh-
konk