The Corvallis gazette. [volume] (Corvallis, Or.) 1862-1899, 1885-10-30
A NEWSPAPER FILE.

1t was two days after Aunt Priscilla S
| funeral, and Sue and were sitting to-
gether by the kitchen fire, with that
hush over our spirits still which follows
death and a burial. All the afternoon
we had been busy in getting the house
to rights, not meddling yet with the
things which had been hers, and were
now ours, but by dint of open windows,
sunshine, and furniture busted and re-
arranged, trying to restore to the
rooms that familiar look which they
had lost during three weeks of anxiety
and trouble. A few days more and we
! must face a future which was full OF
terrors. Meanwhile, custom as well as
| inclination accorded a brief respite in
which to think of her who was gone,
and of each other, with the clinging
fondness of those whose lives, never be-
foSe parted, were about to separate.
Sue sat on a low stool, her head
| against the chimney lamb. 1t was the
chimney of Aunt Priscilla's youth;
she never would alter it-one of the
wide, old fashioned kind, with pot
hooks and blazing logs, and bake oven
at one side. The SCOT blackened bricks
and faint red glow made a background
for my sisters head, with it's great
twist of fair hair and lily like slender
throat. Sue is very pretty, prettier
than anybody I ever saw. recollect
a picture of Cinderella sitting in just
such an attitude by the chimney side.
She was equally picturesque at that
moment; SO far as looks go, equally
worthy of a prince; but, alas! no fairy
godmother was likely to emerge from
the apple room for her benefit. Aunt
Pris, who in a small way, had enacted
that part towards us, was gone, and
her big rocking chair which we had no
heart to sit in, swung empty in it's ac-
customed place, type of a like empti-
ness which we were conscious of in 9TH
er things, and would feel for long
time to come.
Neither of us spoke for a while We
were tired and spiritless, and John
Slade was coming presently to talk
over things, SO we saved our words.
DR.. Slade-John-was Sues lover.
Their poor little engagement had been
formed two years ago. How many
years it was likely to last nobody could
guess, but they held on to it bravely,
and were content to wait. Pretty
soon, as we sat waiting, his step sound
ed without on the gravel, and with a
little tap-courteous, but unnecessa-
ry, for the door was never locked-he
entered, gave Sue a gentle kiss, me an
other, and sat down between us in
aunty's rocking chair. 1t was COM
fort to have him do that. The house
seemed less forlorn at once.
"Well, children, how has the day
gomez" he asked.
"Pretty well," replied Sue. "We
have been busy, and are tired tonight,
/ think. Pm glad you are come, John
dear. We are getting lonely and dis
NAL, Cree and I.
Lucretla is my name, but Sue and
Aunt Priscilla always called me ''Cree."
John adjusted a stick on the embers,
and with one daring poke sent ton
que OF bright flame upward before he
answered. Then he. took Sues hand |
in his broad palm, and patting it gen.
tly, said:
"Now let's talk over matters. We
ought to decide what we are to do, we
three"
That "three" was very comforting
to me, but John always is a comfort. |
He was "made SO" Aunt Pris said |
And he certainly carries out the pur-
nose of his creation
"DA your aunt leave any will? he
went on.
"Only this" and I brought from be-
tween the leaves of the big Bible, where
we had found it, half sheet of note
paper, on which dear aunty had stat
ed in her own simple form, that she
left all she had to be equally divided
between her nieces, Susan and Lucre-
tia Pendexter. Squire Packard g name
and Sarah Brackets, our old wash
erwoman, were written below as wit
nesSes.
Very well. said John, that's good |
in law, fancy; or if not, you are the
nearest relatives, and its yours any
way. What property did your aunt |
own besides this house?"
"She had an annuity of $3.50 q wear
and $50 more from some turnpike
stock. That's all, except the house
and furniture, and there is a mortgage
of $500 on that. The annuity stops
now, doesn't it?"
John looked as though he wanted to |
whistle, but refrained.
'tYour aunt was clever manager"
he said-"a capital manager. She |
made a very little go q great way, |
didn't she? don't know any one else
who could live on $500 year, with