Juniata sentinel and Republican. [volume] (Mifflintown, Juniata County, Pa.) 1873-1955, 1885-04-01

will all do our best; agd don't think
we shall find it hard to love you"
"My dears, you are too good, and
love YOU all already.".
"What-aunt Margaret still with her
bonnet on?" broke in papa's hearty
voice what are you thinking of,
girls?"
There was a hurried move, and in a
little while we were all heartily discus
sing our ''high tea" 1t was impossible
to feel shy with aunt Margaret. AT the
end of half an hour we felt as though
we had known her all our lives. Sitting
on low chair, after tea, by mamma S
sofa, in her long black dress and y-id-
ow's cap. with soft white lace at her
neck and wrists, she made the prettiest
picture of an old lady that l had ever
seen Her manners, too, were so win
ming and graceful that we really forgot
all our troubles in looking at her and
/ listening 90 her delightful conversation.
The evening passed away quickly and
pleasantly. and, on bidding us good
night. aunt Margaret declared that il
was the first happy evening she had
spent since her husband died.
After she had left us, we were all
loud in her praise
'Such a delightful old dear!'' ex-
claimed M01lie. Fancy your calling
her the last strawl'"
Il must tell her that some day." L
said laughingly. "But can you ever
/ imagine those other people being so hor-
/ rid? One look into auntie's sweet sad
eyes won my heart"
And mine too.n put in mamma. 81
am sure she will be great help and
| comfort to us all. She has known much
/ sorrow, and it has taught her to be ten
der and pitiful to others. / am very
glad she has come to us"
The next morning there were three
/ breakfasts to be taken upstairs, for l
had told aunt Margaret that we break
/ tasted at an unearthly hour, and she
was on no account to get up. L did not
want her to see that our meal consisted
of coffee and bread and butter alone,
for of course she must have her outlet
or poached egg. took upher tray my
self. and was amply repaid for my trou-
bic by her bright look of thanks,
This must not happen again, dear"
she said Il am not usually lazy; but
this morning [ must confess to feeling
a little tired and stiff. How are poor
mamma and Ethelp"
said that neither had had very
good night.
'PoOr things! l am so sorry-and L
slept so WE'LL What is the matter with
Ethel .dearl'
told her all | knew about it, and
that | was afraid she would not get
stronger till her mind was more easy.
'She worries so about being idle when
we are all SO hard up" explained,
''and she grudges herself every mouth
full of wine or extra dainty, because she
thinks we deprive ourselves of necessa-
ries in order to get them for her. Poor
mamma is just the same. On, il is a
dreadful thing to be poor, is it not?" l
ended bitterly. She was poor too, so
felt no shame in speaking of our pov-
erty before her.
Poor childl'' she said softly. 'Is it
so bad rs all this? | had no idea you
we're really poor; it Is a word with such
an elastic meaning"
81 suppose ours is what would be
called genteel poverty" | remarked,
still bitterly. Dad has been a long
time out of employment, and We have
never been able to save. 1t has been
uphill work all our lives; but we have
never been 50 badly off as now."
"And yet without hesitation you
added another to your many burdensl
Nv child, what am | to say to your"
The blood rIshed to my cheeks. [ felt
overwhelmed with shame when
thought of what she might have in
ferred from my needless complaints.
''Oh, aunt Margaret, what must you
think of me? You know we are all de
lighted to have you. You could not be
a burden to us. Indeed we feel that
YOU will be our greatest help and CON-
fort-mamma said so. and it Is quite,
quite true!'
"Dear child, [ did not misunderstood
YOU. Your welcome last night was too
genuine to be doubted; but, all the
same, you have done what few would
do without hopes of reward; and may
Heaven grant that your recompense
NAV he tenfoldl"
I'VE have done nothing. aunt Mar
gareU,n | said lightly, for there were
tears IN her voice.
''You have done more than you know,
my child" and she smiled slightly.
''You have healed wounded heart and
restored my faith in human nature"
When went afterwards to remove
the tray and wish her good morning be-
fore starting on the ''tread-mill," p" as
MolIe called it, she laid three pounds
in my hand.
You know, dear, told you 1 could
pay for my maintenance. L will give |
you this sum every Saturday"
''But, aunt Margaret" L gasped, in
astonishment, sit is great deal too |
much. I've thought you might per-
haps give us ten shilllngs week."
You understood that | was very |
poor too-eh, Esther? Who told you
so?'
"I really don't know. We ali thought |
SO from your letter, fancy"
''And yet, like good Samaritans, you
took pity on the friendless traveller. |
Well. dear, am not so poor but that L
can afford to pay you a fair sum In re-
turn for the trouble cause"
With a light heart 1 rushed down.
stairs and showed the glittering coins to |
Mollie, who, after a short stare of in |
credulity. executed a war-dance round |
the kitchen, with tea-cup in one hand
and cloth IN the other.
When came home there were other |
surprises in store for me. A hamper of |
old port and basket of game had ar
rived in the afternoon for the use OF the |
invalids.
1.-The fairies have come back to this |
prosaic world of ours" laughed Ethel,
as opened my eyes at sight of the un-
accustomed luXurieS.
''Une fairy has, think" said mann
ma; and L put my arms round aunt
Margaret's neck and kissed her.
II have some good news too" re-
marked by-and-by. 81 broke up to-
day for three weeks holiday"
Every one was pleased. MOllie gave
me her usual hug and half strangled me.
s'Oh, sha'n't we have fun? do hope