The Forest Republican. [volume] (Tionesta, Pa.) 1869-1952, 1885-05-27
MRS. NORRIS MORTGAGE
BY EDWIN II. TRAFToN.

Whatever brightness there was in that
little household was strictly home. made
Home made things may lack style and
polish and great many other qualities,
but they are solid and satisfying. The
widowed mother was brave and patient
fourteen-year old George was manly and
helpful; Bess, a wee tot, insisted
that sb' mammals sunbeam and
Georei Joy" and between them the
love these three had for each other was
their principal fortune. To be sure, they
had their cottage, nestled like brown
little wren of house among the cherry
trees, but so far from the more preten-
tious street of the village as to be quite
secluded in its modest retirement-a
home nest where there was more peace
than plenty.
One thing this tiny residence had in
common with many stately mansions
that unwinkingly stand forth as if beg
ging for public admiration-there was
mortgage on it. 1t was so very small a
house that it really seemed as though it
would not take much of a mortgage to
crush in its low, rambling roof, like
too heavy load of snow, and. like the
snow, is mortgage on the poor mans
home, cold, pitiless dead weight.
Next after her two children Mrs.
Morris loved this wren-like house best
of anything, and for three long years
she had worked at that mortgage, saving
up and paying it off ''by Titles, until
at last when of the original $500 there
only remained trihe less than $40 to
pay, Lawyer Harding had given her no
tice from the holder of the mortgage
that he could no longer extend the
time, and that unless the balance was
Settled by the first day of the month he
would foreclose. This simply meant
that she would lose all she had paid
and be turned out of doors into the
bargain. At the same time the lawyer
had intimated, on giving this disagree
able intelligence, that if Mrs. Morris
would consent to marry him he would
relieve her of all further trouble, not
only in regard to this but all future inan-
-cial embarrass ments.
The mortgage itself was trouble
enough for one poor woman to bear; but
she would rather have had all the mort
cages in the world TO fight than endure
the thought of life with q man with the
mean traits of this lawyer. She gave
him to understand this fact as clearly as
good use of plain, matter of fact Eng
lish could do it. His words were smooth
enough-too smooth, in fact-as he
went away, but there was the sort of
smile that BODIED no good to the object
of his thoughts. 1t was as evident to
her as though he had said so in SO many
al Il
be the last day of grace.
April 1st came-but not'the paltry bal
ance needed to clear off the mortgage.
And no sum of money is paltry when
one must have it to avert disaster-and
cannot get it. Mrs. Morris could see no
earthly way out of her trouble that morn
ing. Everything looked dark. 1t was
hard to have worked so long, to have
struggled for weeks and months and
years, as she had done, only to lose all at
last. No, not all For she had George
and Bess left. Thinking of them made
it still harder to bear, tor it was for their
dear sakes she had toiled and economical
and saved. There was a suspicious sug-
gestion of what her eyes had been doing
when George came cheerily in to his
breakfast.
"What, my little mammie's eyes are half
drowned !i he exclaimed, in his hearty,
boyish way, with part fun and more ten
derness in his tone, as he hugged her
like a young bear, and dabbed kisses
into each damp eye.
"'Tisn't me2" he continued, searching
for cause for the rather unusual display
of discomfort. "No? Pm glad of that,
because don't think I've done anything
downright awful lately, and it can't be
BessY She's all right, know-no measles,
or whooping cough, or anything /
just saw her sleeping like a-a-" here
he paused for satisfactory smile, dab
bing more warm kisses from rosy lips
into red eyes the while-''like happy
little kitten"
"Georgie, do eat your breakfast, It's
as bad to have ones eyes kissed out as
drowned out"
"Oh, / knowr" he continued, pursuing
the subject with no intention of being
put off. "That old Harding is coming
again, I'll bet anything"
''Yes, dear he is coming" but the
little woman had not the heart TO tell all
that dreaded coming implied.
"Pshaw, mammiel Don't worry so