The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1885-07-25

| utCh. boSSeu IL DdCh lONdlu utl W uClC SlAS
stood trying in vain to fight back her tears,
and called: "Dry your blue eyes with this
while L m gone, sweetheart"
But breath OF wind caught the drifting
! bit of silk away from her outstretched
hands and tossed it into the climbing
| branches of a rose-tree that arched above
| the window.
90, my love- token :" cried Aunt Powell.
"The wind takes away my lover, and then
snatches his keepsake away from me"
"Never mind" he called back, in his
| CHEEKY way-''never mind, heart of mine;
| let it tlutter aloft there till | come back"
| And Aunt Powell threw him kiss, and
then the tears in her blue eyes shut out her
lover like mist, and the mist never cleared
away For summer and winter came and
| went, and the blue kerchief in the rose-tree
| paled in the sun and faded in the rain. The
winds rent and tattered it, the roses came
and hid it, and the winter days showed it
a ragged signal of faded blue fluttering
like flag of distress from some storm
beaten ship; but the hand that set the
signal was cleaning white down in the
red coral. The angry winds that had
driven her lovers ship upon the pitiless
rocks came in the June days and kissed the
faded kerchief softly, and caressed it
tenderly, as though in sorrow for what
they had done; and in December they
snatched and tore at it angrily, as though
they would destroy every trace of the
sailor from off the face of the earth.
But Aunt Powell never touched it. "Let
it wave there till he comes back" she said:
"he may see it yet, some day, and know
that am waiting for him."
And so it tiuttered and faded, and little
| by little the winds tore it away, and the
blue in her eyes faded with the silken
token, and their light grew dim as the hope
IN her heart went out.
All that her sailor had in the world he
had left To his SNVpptbpart Ha pnl
child, and when his heart broken old
father followed him. in a few wears, he,
too, left his fortune, which was an ample
one, to the girl he lovingly called his
daughter, in his will. And so our dear
Aunt Powell was very rich. But she never
married. Lovers knelt at her feet, for she
was still beautiful, but there was only one
image in her heart. And so she grew old
and rich and lonely.
But when, little by little, this story came
to us, our hearts warmed to our fathers
only sister. We wrote TO her often and
most atfectionately. We learned her birth
day, and always remembered her with
loving messages and such little presents as
we could afford. | encouraged the children
to write to her, and Lem went and told
Abner about it, and if Jennie didn't keep
every one of her four children away from
Sunday school, the very next Sunday
afternoon, to make them write to Aunt
Powell! | told Mrs. Roberts | thought she
ought TO be disciplined for it, if she was
my own brothers wife. The idea that anv
woman should imperil the souls of her own
children for her own mercenary schemes
For my own part, | loved Aunt Powell
honestly and disinterestedly. Jennie, |
know, was mercenary from the very start,
and so was Hamer's wife, but they wasn't
neither Of them PowellS, When Jasper
Blake built his new house on WAYNE Street
Maria wrote to Aunt Powell that they had
built the largest room i'll the house with a
big bay window especially for her: it
would always be called AUNT PoweIl's
ROOM" and whether she ever came to stay
IN 1t or not, no one else would ever occupy
1t. And for very good reason, too; they
weren't able to furnish it; and they didn't
even paint it, for that matter for nearly
two years after they had lived i'll that
house, and they used it for a general
lumber-room. A nice time Aunt Powell,
or anybody else, except the rats, would
have living in that mice large roOm!"
Well, at last Aunt Powell came, with
seven trunks and a French maid. Abner
drove over to the station to bring her
home. He and Jennie had it all fixed up
to take her right to their house, and shut
all the rest of us out on the plea that Aunt
Powell was fatigued and needed rest. But
Jennie, as usual, contided her little plan to
three or four confidential friends outside
the family. She seemed more surprised
IMAM ueuSuUGu 10 see us as we came
dropping in about fifteen or twenty min
utes before stage time, and when Abner
came, leading Aunt Powell into a parlor
just full to the windows with his brothers
and sisters and their children, his face was
study for a photographers He didn't
even have the pleasure of being master of
ceremonies in his own house, either, for
before he could recover from his amaze
ment we had captured Aunt Powell, intro
duced ourselves, and made the most of our
first opportunity.
If ever Aunt Powell had been beautiful,
it was long time before we saw her. Her
eyes were bright as diamonds, but one of
them was little set" and she could pin
you with that eve like a gimlet. She was
tall apd angular; dressed like lady, but
very quietly, and wore no jewery
save an elegant pearl pin at her throat
Her maid was the uglicst and croSSest
creature in all this world, do believe, and
as none of us understood a word of French,
the bits of conversation those two used TO
have when we were with them were fairly
maddening, especially if Aunt Powell
happened to transtix you with her "set'
eye, while she looked at her maid with the
other.
In about month Aunt Powell felt
strong enough to look at the places Abner
had selected for her. But none of them
suited, and at last she grew weary of law
yers and agents and began to talk mourn
fully about going back to her home in
Maine.
"Where know will die of home-sick-
ness" she said, because | have, for the
first time in my life, learned how sweet it
is to live among those of your own blood"
"Aunt Powell" spoke up, quick as a
flash, 'Why should you wear yourself out
looking for a home when you always seem
so contented in the little blue room at our
house? 1t isn't what you've been ac-
customed to, | know, but if you like it, or
will endure it, can't tell you how glad we
will all he to call it yours, and all the rest
of your days you cam
With that Aunt Powell stopped NV
words with kisses, and began to cry.
When she could command her voice she
blessed me, and said my home should be
hers ''for the little time" she faltered,
THAT | want home"
And that very afternoon Aunt Powell
and the seven trunks and the French maid
We're moved to our house, and | was hated
most cordially and politely by all the sis
ters and brothers in the Powell family.
Once settled, | am free TO saw Aunt Pow
ell was anything but pleasant companion.
She had her breakfast at all hours of the
morning, sometimes in the dining room,
sometimes in her own room and sometimes
in my sitting room. She was generally
irritable and imperious, and acted as
though the house belonged to her. At
other times she had wonderfully sweet
winning way with her that charmed you
in spite Of herself. The children never
bod Ia 1, 1