Weekly Chillicothe crisis. (Chillicothe, Livingston Co., Mo.) 1878-19??, 1883-04-26

the depot to Richard Remington S
house, thUugh | should ruthCr pay my
way in Spectacle manner, than to be
beholden to such Il fel'er as Mary Ann
Bromley describes. Mary Ann Brom.
ley was alters high llier, in my opin-
ion, an du hope she won't get you
into trouble with her llighty ways"
He turned 10 90 out. and opened
the door for him. | think never ap-
preciated the sterling integrity of my
fathers character as did at that min
ute. One thing that he had said re-
vcaled the true motives of his life
He was an old man, old and broken
before his years, bowed down with
their accumulated weight; his hands
were rough with toll, his manners were
not after Chesterfield; he was not al
ways sure of his English, but, thank
God, my father was an honest man.
"To pay his way" had been the rule of
his lite.
We arrived in New York on tmc--I
and Mrs. Noahs trunk, my best black
alpaca and my made over broaicloth
cloak, All have 10 say about the cir
cumstances is, briefly, if was not
equal to the occasion, Marian Remng-
ton was. found her as utterly unlike
what | remembered of her as one
woman could possibly be unlike an
other, and yet there was the same
warm heart behind it all! If ever NOR.
tai made crooked paths straight and
rough places plain, she did. Every
thing was delightful to me but the
Prince" and toward him ! did not
relCnt.
Il am surprised at You, Marian"
! said, mot TO see the evil in that man;
if know anything, know he is not to
be trusted.
Marian only laughed. Your iudg-
ment is at fault, my dear He has
been with us year, and have never
had occasion to doubt his honesty; and
for his dinners, you must confess they
are faultleSs.' They certainly were.
My birthday sun rose without 4 cloud;
March was evidently making up his
mind to settle down TO steady, quiet
work. With the old yellow paper, con-
tanning the Instructions of my Great
aunt BatCS-wh0, by the way, had
never seen Marian and | made our
way without any trouble TO the place
designated. "A more antiquatcd spot
could not be found in New York, - said
Marian. as she lifted the heavy brass
knocker. 81 wonder it has not fallen
or been pushed aside. ages agonc."
"But if it had, where, oh, where,
would be to-day my moth-eatcn stun
drcsses?" said |. | could not get the
idea of the old dresses out of
as much as | had pondercd what this
forthcoming was to be. 1t could not
be money or bonds, or bank notes, or
drafts-that had been settled long ago,
because everybody knew tha! Aunt
Bates was poor; there could be nothing
else, then, but dresses; old they must
have been when she wore them; by this
time it was hard to think even of their
possible condition.
Judge of my surprise when, all pre-
| liminariGs having been arranged, was
made the reel pient of Il square tin box!
Whatever it might contain, it had no
weight to speak of, there was no iing-
ling, no rattling, no moving from one
side to another. II was rs empty as
air, and light as n feather There was
no key to unlock it, no word accom-
panying it. On our way home Marian
ordered the "cxile" 10 stop at Mr..
Remngton's office, and there, in the
midst of a profound stiffness, save for
the squeakng of the rusty hinges as
eyyielded TO Mr.. Remington's "open
sesame" guiltlcss of wrappings or
adornment Of any kind, we solemnlv
drew forth brown stocking-bag. We
turned it inside and out. held it up to
the light of day, opened it this way and
that-there was nothing else, not even
as much as n ball of yarn or skcin of
thrumbs.
Then we went home. Marian and |.
We did not laugh much, we certainly
did not cry, the whole thing seemed so
like the freak of imbecility it was pitt
able, but | was glad that | nor any of
my family had never built any air
castles over my legacy. that we had
never stopped in our busy whirl to
give it thought When | got to my
room, | opened my horse-hair trunk
and deposited it, Tin box and all, safe
in the bottom.
1t was Il thud in my room that awoke
me. ] cannot describe II by any other
word. 1t was not q footStcp it was
not the turning of II key or the grating
of a file in lock, or the opening of a
door 1t was not outside nor in the
wall, but ight in my room. So per-
fectly did ! possess myself when |
awoke, that was able instantly TO 10.
cate myself and my belongings. As
lay perfectly still, | heard clock strik-
ing the hour of two the dead hour of
the night. Presently there was little
stir, as of the moving of cautious feet
on the carpet toward my bed. was
able then to locate the stand. NV
trunk stood in the corner of the room
near the door leading to the hall. |
had locked this door when | retired,
but the intruder must have picked his
way there, for the room had no other
access. Whoever he was, he was max
ing his way straight for me. What
could | dop | thought of my poor old
father, and Nell, and the boy, of Tot
asleep in her warm bed, of what had
meant to do for them all. thought
of my old home, and of the cosy cor
ner where used to sit in the after
moons, of my books and their belong
ing. This had all occupied but Il see
ond, but in it ! had lived years. A
little,jar of the bed! He was there,
then!
Marian's room was separated from
mine by double wall. If screamed
she might not hear me. Was there
nothing, then, nothingP l lifted ST.
lent prayer for help, and the answer
came like flash.
1t was the accomplishments | re. |
ceived from old Meb that saved me! |
concentrated all my strength in one
wild whoop. 1t was enough to wake
all the sleeping Indians west of the
Mississippi. Something clicked against
the bedpost, and somebody rushed out
of my room, hitting his feet against my
trunk at the door, with more noise and
less ceremony than he had observed in
entering.
"You have had n terrible night.
mare" said Marian, shivering all
over. 81 thought every redskin that
ever lived was tlourisbing tomahawk
over my defenccless head-I hope I've
got my scalp left"
Marian, how did you get into my
roomp"
GtEoupd tba Joor ,y;Jo o,>a, ,al |