The Press., 1884-07-10

over the country to cfOWueQ houses, De- fore the finest people in the land. It was a beautiful romance to read ln the Record about sour gifted townsman ;" she seem ed to hear the echo of his violin when the wind swept through the pine boughs She had no bitter thoughts she did not blame him because she sat in shadow, be- cause her life had been colorless. She sang again the old tunes he had taught her, and made little sunshine in her heart All of happiness she had ever known he had brought her. Why should she complain ? And now she was going to the ssOid Ladies' Home.'
 ssIt isn't exactly what I expected in my youth." she said to the old doctors wid- ow.
 ''No; but you will have a nice room and @ bright fire, and the neighbors will drop in to see you, and make it seem homelike. Now, there's old Mrs. Gum. Nothing can persuade her to go to the home. She says it's only a genteel almshouse after ali and 50 she rubs along with what the they have to do it mighty gingerly, too, just as if they were asking favor of her. LOT, she doesn't earn her salt.
 'sI dare say," returned Miss Becky. Now, if 1t hadn't been for the rheumatism, I could earn my living for years yet, and maybe get something ahead again But it seems us if the rheumatism laid ln wait for the poor and friendless.
 "You ought to have married when you were young, Becky said doctor s widow, who had forget all about Becky's love af- fair, and labored under the impression that she had never had 8 chance, an inn pression that lnatrons are apt to entertain concerning their single friends. Miss Becky had been spending some weeks with Mrs. Doctor Dwight, who had moved away from Plymouth after her husbands death. She was there chiefly in order to put some stitches into the widows wardrobe, which nobody else would do "reasonably," that lady's grief having incapacitated her fol holding 8 needle or giving her mind to the material details of ''seam and gusset and band" But during the visit Miss Becky had been seized with her sharpest attack of rheumatism, which had kept her in beG for weeks, till her wages were exhausted by drugs and doctors fees. It was at this time that she made up her mind to go in to the Home on her return to Plymouth.
 Mrs. Dwight saw her off at the station 'I hope you find the home cosy" she Parson Amory left you that hundred dol lars, after all. He might have doubled it."
 "Yes, suppose so," Miss Becky. an swered meekly Perhaps she was think ing that if she were Mrs. Dwight, no old friend of hers should go begging for a ref uge at an almshOuse door, were it ever SC genteel an almshouse. Perhaps she was thinking of the pretty, comfortable home waiting for her friend, and wondering why | their fortunes were so unlike.
 "Wr1te when you reach Plymouth, and let me know how you're suited, said Mrs. Dwight; and just then the cars gave lurch and left her behind, and Miss Becky turned her glance inwards. Somebody had taken the seat beside her.
 ''Your friend was speaking of Parson Amory and Plymouth" said he. "I couldn't help hearing. I was born at Plymouth myself, but havn't met soul from there these 20 years. I'm on my way down to look up my old friends"
 "Twenty years is long time," answer 1 ed Becky. "I'm afraid you won't find many of your friends left. You'll hardly know Plymouth.
 ''I suppose not suppose not. Have you lived there long ?"
 q? I have lived there all my days
 "Good ! I'm hungry for news of the IL. Did Parson Amory leave fortune? He was called close. Where's Miss Nell married or dead :? can see the old pl ace in my minds eys and the parsonage nn- der the elms, and the orchard kbehind it, where Lucy Amory plantad young tree en her wedding day, and the gown little Becky Thorne wore-by the way, is she alive? Do you know her?"
 Miss Becky hesitated an instant
 ''Yes," she replied, 1T know her-more or less. She's alive"
 ''And married ?"
 "Well, no she never married.'
 ''She must be sixty odd ; she was q pretty creature, such dimples-I suppose they are wrinkles now Where have the years gone? Is her home in the old place still ?'
 "Her home ?" said Miss Becky. flush ing little. "She has none. She is on her way to the Old Ladies' Home'
 ''To the Old Ladies' Home Becky Thorne p he gasped, "and T."
 'You seem to have known her pretty we'll, said Miss Becky, who was begin ming to enjoy the incognito.
 "I should think so I've loved Becky Thorne from my cradle we had a silly quarrel which parted us-such 8 trif1e !- "ii0A iooh UaCA. bO yOu CVGI lOOA UdCh, madame ?"
 The twilight was falling about them ]; Becky's face had grown shade or two paler all at once she turned her dark vel vety eyes upon him with startled air.
 "You," she said, ''you must be Larry Rogers !'' Then color swept to her cheeks in a crimson wave. Do you know, I never thought you had grown old like my self Don't you know me t? I am Becky Thorne."
 Just then the train thundered through the tunnel, and they forgot that they were 60 odd
 "On the way to the Old Ladies' Home, |" she wrote Mrs. Dwight, "I was persuaded to go to an old gentleman's instead"
 CAPITAL COMFORT. Washington, D. G. Mrs. Mary K. Sheed, 111O Maryland avenue, Washington, D. O., states, that for several years she had suffered terribly with facia! 'oia and co17'6 find m iaf Tn n ra