The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1884-01-12
WHOLE No. 2,135

| and fOurs.'
why, Miss Lis, often see fifty in
here afore dis time O. day. Dere's a ring
/ again! OATS Major Spuytenduyvil sure"
| Bnt it was only some books for ''Mr.
To-ku-To- Heather Chi
nee, or su.hin," said the facetious Young
man who delivered them.
'Bress us n' exclaimed Sylvia; "dat ere
yaller thing knows how to read, do be-
lieve Let colored folks keep to de base
ment, says l."
Certainly remarked Miss Lisbeth.
81 had strong objections to that heather
person, but his references were excellent,
and SO couldn't refuse him. Another
ring" And she ensconces herself ma
jestically exactly in the middle of the
sofa. They're coming, surely"
But no; this time it was tramping
beggar; next time it was a circular; then
a friend to see Parker; and at each alarm
the coffee-urn was rushed up stairs in
mad haste; then afterward logged to the
kitchen again with anxious care.
take your lunch, Miss Lis" sug-
gested Sylvia at last; Its one o'clock"
No." replied Miss Lisbeth, firmly;
eve never used to eat anything all day
long, except a few morse!s while the
guests were RECALLING themselves. Oh,
what decided ring! J" and she looked all
expectancy, while Sylvia hurried up the
coffee-urn once more, and answered the
imperative summons.
Somebody was entering; the step drew
near; Miss Lisbeth rose with cordial
greeting, and faced-only Hetty Simms,
daughter of the person who kept board.
ing-house next door.
ooh, say" cried Hetty, who was a
bouncing girl in crimson plush, fashion
able livery, "ma wants to know if you'll
please send her the receipt for real Dutch
crullers."
But" said Miss Lisbeth, with solemn
reproof, "this is no day for a young girl
to be seen out of the house. Don't you
receive?''
Receive? Oh, 60 way! !" answered
the delightful young creature. That's
all played out. My beaux just sends
card, OF, what's better, sends me pres
ent, at New Years. Ma ties basket on
the bell knob, SO if any old fogy should
come round he can drop his pasteboard
into that
"His what?" asked Miss Lisbeth
His pasteboard," answered Hetty,
coolly. "Why, you dear old thing, didn't
you ever hear that name for a visiting
?' Then, happening to spy the ia
BILE in the dining room, she cried out !:
"Hello. 1 declare! It's regular free
lunch, amt it9 But why don't some
body come to eat it?''
"Dey's a-comin' heaps of 'em-real
ole families. too-none of your upstarts!"
responded Sylvia, pointing the last word
with such snarling display of her tooth.
less mouth that Hetty fairly screamed
with amusement. Then saying: you're
awfully funny, but ta-ta, can't stop-got
an errand to de-" she banged the front
door and was off.
| IAN errand!-an errand on New Years
Day" gasped Miss Lisbeth, struck with
horror.
| Another hour passed, broken only by
sundry false alarms and much weary
transportation of the coffee-urn. Once
Sylvia, on carrying letter to Parker's
| 70 int in
out callin'?'
Calling not much" answered Par
ker. considering the quiet game of cards
in which he was engaged. go you one
better, Smith. Play"
Surely" said Miss Lisbeth, growing
weary and nervous-"surely Charles
Van Shoik's sons ought to come, and
surely the major can't have forgotten
u.s."
Il did count consider BILE on de major"
sighed Sylvia. Then came a long space
of holiday silence, the distant rumble Of
Broadway hushed, and only now and
then the hootings of some drunken fell
low heard in the street; and so the
shadows began to fall, and outlines in
the prim parlor to grow dim and uncer-
tain. "You must take suthin'-do, Miss
LIS" said Sylvia, bringing her mistress
cup of tea.
"Oh, l can't" said Miss Lisbeth-'I
can't. I'm thinking, Sylvia, of sixty
years ago-of all the friends, all the
cheer, all the kind, neighborly customs:
of how this parlor was filled with guests,
and LA young girl-a young GIRL"
she repeated, musngly.
''And pretty young girl, too. I re-
members yer we'll. Don't cry, Miss Lis"
Sylvia added, huskily, as she saw tears
on the wrinkled cheeks.
81 can't help it," answered Miss Lis
beth, giving way at last-''I can't help
it. I'm crying for poor mamma" Per.
haps it was the fatigue, perhaps it was
disappointment, or the sad failure of her
festivity, and perhaps it was something
of a strange foreboding, but withered
Miss Lisbeth, at seventy-five, thought of
her mother, dead thirty years, and wept
with all the passion of girl.
"'Pears like 'twould do me good to
cry for de ole madam too," Sylvia quav-
cred out; and she fell at her mistress's
feet, sobbing, in the lonely twilight. 1t
was long after the parlor had grown
quite dark when Sylvia found courage to
speak. Come, Miss Lis, cheer up,
chile; there'll be crowds to see US this
evenin', sure. Why, Mr.. Evart, your
own grandnephew, amt forgot yer, nor
yet the major. There'll be crowds yet
crowds"
At that moment the merry tune Of
sleigh-bells sounded at the door. Sylvia
sprang up and fastened to light tho
rooms, Miss Lisbeth dried her eyes, and
in came Evart Vanderweyster-as hand
some fellow Of twenty-five as ever
stepped.
"Ah, aunty, thought I'd drop in q
minute" was his salutation, as he duti-
fully embraced her. "But, hello! look
out! don't touch my game bag; it's not
very nice. See, l shot these rabbits to-
day" and he held up two of the 'small
deer beauties, amt they?" and
with little scream Miss Lisbeth recog-
uzed that Evart was in a rough driving
r;o an1 had a pama.hap oyar h;e