The Warner sun. (Warner, Brown Co., Dakota [S.D.]) 1885-1???, 1886-10-15

mOLHeT y JHllRS.
"Just as you think best, sister Sa
bra" answered Miss Cynthy meekly
The coming change was an even great
er grief to her than to her elder sister
She loved her old home with an al
most passionate tenderness, and II
seemed to her sometimes that leavln!
it would almost break her heart.
The two sisters fipished their morn,
ing task in silence, and without a wore
climbed the narrow stairs that led tC
the old garrett. Such a treasurehOuse
of family relics as it wasi Not a child
of the ten whose Development could
not be traced in cast-Off clothing and
old school books. There were boxes
and trunks carefully packed standing
primly against the wall. Old gar
ments dating back to old Squire Mar
cy's first wedding coat hung above
them. Near a window was a broken
looking-gIass, with gilt and ebony
frame, the upper portion filled with a
gay flower piece, and Miss Cynthy IN
a subdued tone asked Miss Sabra II
| she didn't remember hearing elbow
sister Jammie broke that glass Just
| before mother died?'
The timbers OF the old roof were
enormous, suggesting an abundance
! OF lumber TO which We, in these mod
ern times, are strangers. Many pegs
and nails were driven into them, from
which swung paper bags filled with
dried herbs, sDearmint, boneSet- pen
ne-oyal, all difusing a pleasant odOr
through the garnet, which Miss Synthy
thought more agreeable than the
huge bowls OF steanlng hot herb tea,
which Miss Sabra S!Eays made her
swallow, her feet in pail OF hot water
meanwhile, whenever she took cold.
Two large wooden chests stood far
back under the ewes, 50 large that
thev could never have been brought
up the narrow stairs, but must have
been built where they stood. In them
we're piles OF Old papers, years upon
years OF Springfield Republicans and
Massachusetts Plowmans, "OldFarm-
ers' Almanacs' for more than half a
century, aud there were carefully
cherished a pile OF Journals OF the
House containing the doings OF the
legislature when Squire Marcy rep
resented the town"
Miss Cynrhy gave q pitItul look into
a crest and then sat down IN q basket
Of Deatly-sown carpet.rags and began
10 CIV. "Oh, Sabra, she sobbed,
I've been used TO seeing these things
al NY life Seems as # it would break
ny heart 10 part with them. I've a
great mind 70 bring IN s. bill"
~Cyurhy, sad Miss Sabra, this is
tooishness. There's no use in givin'
way so. We cant help ourselves"
Vel, said Miss Cynthy, extricat-
IN herself from the carpet rags and
wIplng her eyes what shall We do
frsts"
An cd spinning whesl. which had
stood Tor years II It's Own nook, rest-
Ing after long service IT spinning yarn
for blankets and stockings TO keep
the MGTcys warm, guiTerad a little as
L with grief at the coming change, and
the cradle, wherein al the little Marcys
had been rocked, rocked gently once
more II a ~deprecatory way as the
sisters turned towards the closet,
WEzns one ortwotrunks more precious
than the rest, we're kept.
Il thought we'd better look over
mother things first" said Miss Sabra,
opening the shutters and letting in a
food OF Autumn sunshine. A faint
odor Of camphor and cedar and pun
gent spices filed the closet, for this
vas the s~torerooIa for winter clothing
IN summer. The sisters cloaks and
WOODEN dresses hung on the wall.
Broad shelves, piled with homemade
blankets and patchwork quilts and
comfOTtables, filled one side of the
little apartment, and in a bandbox
in n corner, carefully wrapped in
linen and packed away in red pepper
and camphor, were the sisters furs,
the one spontaneous gift their father
mad ever given them. For Miss Sabra's
aud Miss Cynthy's wearing apparel
usually represented sundry sacrifices
of eggs and poultry and fresh butter,
exchanged at the village store for
something to wear. But once, when
the old gentleman had made an ex-
ceptionally good sale OF his fat cattle,
he opened his heart and purse strings
and presented his daughters each with
a set of gray squirrel furs, more pre-
cious in their eyes than sealskin or
sable.
"Well. Cynthy,'n said Miss Sabra,
'this is the trunk OF mothers things.
We'd better open it to seethat there's
nothing else in it, and then we'll take
it down stairs and look the things
over. Iguess they're al right, but it's
three years come October since we
went through them"
Miss Sabra knelt down before the
little hair trunk studded with brass
nails, fitted the key in the rusty lock
and with some difficulty raised the
lid. The clothing, yellow with age, lay
neatly folded, with leaves os"Sweet
Mary scattered through It to give it