Perrysburg journal. (Perrysburg, Wood Co., O. [Ohio]) 186?-1965, 1886-12-17

so there was no more to be said that
night, and | haven't seen her since.
want you and Louise to come to my
house this evening to play whist. Mr..
Cathcart will make fourth. Do come" :"
l promised for Louise and myself,
and after an early tea we had pleas
ant walk across the town to Cousin
Kate's lovely home. She showed us
her collection of old china and pottery,
and IL was really quite impressive,
though the shelves were by no means
full.
"Whcn Igct Madame Burrilrs blue
and white pitcher, shall set it at the
very top to crown the WHOLE" she said
glancing up with an anticipatory pr de.
MIR. Cathcart came previously, and
we four then established oursolvcd in
tho cosicst corner for game. We were
just fairly launched in 1t, when the door
bell rang sharply, and messenger
entered TO say that Madame Burrill
was suddenly taken worse, and must
see Miss Garland at once. Kate flushed,
hesitatcd, and laying her cards on tho
table, arose.
"Shc thinks she is going to die, and
means to give me the pitcher, She said,
glanclng at us.
could not help thinking that
Madame Burril was like malicious
old fairy godmothcr, who knew by some
subtle prcscicnce just when to practice
her tyrannios with the most effect. Kate
looked so bright and pretty that even
ing, was in such good spirits. and we
were having such a pleasant time, that it
seemed shame to break it all up.
wanted to say so, but it would havo
sounded hard-hcarted in spite of all my
disbelief in Madame Burrill's bad symp-
toms.
II will be ready in five minutes to go
with you," said Kate to the messenger.
al will accompany YOU myself If you
are going" said Mr.. Cathcart.
"Oh, no." protested Kate; at is not
far, and this person will be sufficient. |
want you to amuse yourselves here for
a while, for | may come back in an
hour. an sorry to go, but l can't
well refuse"
"Do you 90 for love, pity or the pitch
erp" asked Mr.. Cathcart, smiling.
"For the pitcher" replied Kate, hon
estly. "l can't pretend to love Madame
Burrill; I'm afraid don't pity her much
either; but do want the pitcher"
And then she was gone, and we were
left TO our own resources. Mr.. Cath
cart asked Louise to play slumber-
song he had admired, and our broken
whist evening was changed into mu-
steal. Louise went on from one thing
to another. played exquisitely, as she
always does; and after awhile, Mr..
Cathcart having a fine bass voice, he
and she were singing duets. l was audi
ence part of the time, and part of the
time | read novel. Then Aunt Lydia
sent us in a delicious little supper of
oysters and chocolate, and looking at
the clock we were surprised to see how
late it was.
II wonder what poor Kate is do
ing?" | said, as | slipped my fragrant
chocolate from a dainty gold and brown
cup.
Now isn't it n curious study in hui
man nature,' said George Cathcart,
''to watch how such thing as this
china craze can so absorb lady's
mind that every thing else in life sinks
into insigniiicance? | value an heir
loom as much as anybody, but for these
cr cked dishes from other peoples fam
lilies have no fancy"
"Well don't know" put in Louise,
in her gentle voice. 1.-The other day
my old nurse gave me very pretty
china plate that had belonged to her
grandmother. She told me quite a
story about it, and it really made me
feel little bit like being collector my
self"
Don't, for Heavens sakem ex-
claimed George Cathcart, with an ardor
that made us laugh.
We left the house at last without see
ing Kate, and she never told me how
late it was when she returned. Mr..
Cathcart accompanied us home, and the
walk seemed unusually short, he was so
pleasant and entertaining.
"lf Kate really loves him." said to
Louise in our room that night, 81 Won
der that she ventures to neglect him
so."
"She doesn't love him." said Louise,
impetuously; "she is in love with an old
pitcher"
Mother went the next day to call on
Madame Burrill and to carry her some
whipped cream. She found the old lady
much better, sitting in her rocking-chair
rs usual. The blue and white pitcher
also was there, for mother saw it her.
self up in the cupboard. But about n
week later, as was slowly walking over
to my Cousin Kate's to tell her an inn
portant piece of news, met her coming
out of the street that led to Madame
Burrilrs. She looked pale, but bright,
and she carried the pitcher.
HAS she let you have itP' ex-
claimed, as we walked on together.
"Oh yes,' smiled Kate; ''she sent for
me this time to say that she wanted n
new dress and some wine, and would
like to have the ten dollars and the
buckwheat at once, and | might take
the pitcher.
We reached her house and went into
the parlor, where she set the pitcher on
its topmost shelf.
'Supcrb!" she said. "But see news
in your face, Harriet. What have you
come to tell me?"
.'We thought the relatives ought to
know it first" / said, hesitatingly.
George Cathart."
My cousin Kate sat down in the near
est chair, turned paler than before, and
then laughed. "Tell me, Harriet Up
ham," she said, looking straight in my
face, shave / been foolp"
"Not that, dear" l answered, sooth-
ingly, "but a little like Esau, perhaps"
''Sold my birthrlght for mess of
pottage" she exclaimed "You are
right; but don't tell Louise said 30.
Give her my dearest love, and to-mor-
row will come over early to congrat-
ulate her. Mary l.. Boiler Branch,
in Harper's Basar.