The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1886-06-19
THE PAPER-HANGING
A Story of Self-Sacrif1ce, Doubt
and Gloom.

Grandmother laughed until she cried
when she told us about it, but when it
happened she cried, without laughing
much. We laughed, too, for nobody
could help it, but all the time, down in
the bottom of our hearts, was an ache
for poor grandmother and her cruel
disappointment. We children always
thought we had the dearest, best grand
mother in the word. She was always
SO kind and sympathetic. We told her
all our plans and showed her our new
things as a matter of course, and she
was always pleased and interested 1t
was always happy time when grand
mother came to visit us, and SO, when
Lucy and came home from school one
night last fall, and found her there for
visit of several days, we were very
much delighted. We had Just had our
room newly papered and painted, so
the next morning, which was Saturday.
we put it in "apple pie order" made
up good fire in the open CRATE, drew
uncomfortable chair before the fire and
invited grandmother to pay US visit.
We thought our paper was in excellent
taste. We chose it ourselves The
pattern was feathery fronds of fern in
soft, pale gray, scattered over steel
blue ground. Our border-we liked to
call it a frieze-was in the same colors,
separated from the whole by narrow
strip of deep warm terra Gotta, "a real
Pompeiian color" the clerk said; the
dado was of the same rich shade, with
clumps of tall ferns standing upon it.
Grandmother praised it all heartily,
until we were quite satisfied with her
appreciation, and then, as she leaned
back in her chair, a funny expression
came into her eyes and her lips
twitched just little, as if she wanted
to laugh.
what are you thinking about,
grandmaP" asked.
II was thinking about the paper in
our little old sitting-room at home, and
the way your Aunt Lucy and l put it
on, answered grandmother laughing
outright
20, tell us about it, please" we
said at once, for we liked nothing so
well as one of grandmother stories;
and she, nothing 10th, began immedi-
ately.
'You have been told how my mother
died when l was only twelve years old,
and was left to be mother and sister,
too, to five younger ones. 1t was a
pretty hard experience. l often
wonder how got along with it as well
as | did, but still had many pleasures.
/ presume it was all for the best. My
brothers were bright, manly little fell
lows. full of life and fun. They
meant always to do right. but such
active, restless boys could not help get
ting into scrapes, and often | was quite
at my wits end with worry. | used to
try to be patient and make home
pleasant for them, but sometimes
with hard days work, it used to
seem as if | could not bear their noise.
remember once when / was very
tired and had some mending to do, that
Ben persisted in playing on his flute 1t
was dreadful little homemade affair,
sharp and shrill and shockingly out of
tune. bore it Just as long as | could,
and at last asked him to please put it
away, for my head ached The little
fellow complied cheerfully enough, but
/ shall never forget his reproachful
look as he said to me, Il am sorry,
Eliza, you have no taste for music
''And / remember another of my
troubles. had taken great pains to
get dozen eggs of choice breed, and
had set one of my hens upon them.
hoping for some fine chickens. The
day before they should have Matched
was away from home, and you can
imagine how l felt when | returned
and saw the ground all strewn with
egg-shells and dozen prematurely
Matched chickens spread out on shin
giles and placed where the sun would
shine upon them. Jamie sat watching
them with rather an anxious face.
It's all right. sister, said the little fell
low; they'll walk as soon as they get
dry And then found that, moved
by the persuasions of a neighbours son,
boy whom l always dreaded to see
coming into the yard, he had broken
all the eggs and brought the chickens
into the world too soon. He said he
thought / would be pleased. Poor
child! he must have been disappointed,
for am afraid scolded pretty hard, /
did feel so dreadfully at losing my
chickens. These things seem very
small after fifty years, but they were
real. serious troubles then.
'But all this has nothing to do with
the paper-hanging. We lived in a lit
lie country town. where nobody had