The Portland daily press., 1888-05-19


Der that? Well, she had an uncle, her
mothers brother, out in Chicago who was
well off and friendly, and used to write to
Lizzie Trevor, and | dare say make her
some:presents; but he was a lively, driving
man, and didn't take time to stop and think
about his folks. He hadn't seen her since
she was little girl. Poor Lizzie was so
pale and weakly that she just got through
the term O. school. She looked as If she was
just going straight off in decline. Tempy,
she cosseted her up awhile, and then, next
thing folks knew, she was tellin' round how
Miss Trevor had gone to see her uncle, and
meant to visit Niagary Falls on the way,
and stop over night. Now l happened to
know, in ways l won't dwell on to explain,
that the poor girl was in debt for her school
in when she come here, and her last quar-
ter's pay had just squared it off at last, and
left her without cent ahead, hardly; but 1t
had fretted her thinking of it, so she paid it
all; they might have dunned her that she
owed it to. An taxed Ten,py about the
girls goin' off on such a journey till she
owned up, rather n have Lizzie blamed,
that she'd given her sixty dollars. same's if
she was rolling in riches, and sent her off to
have good rest and vacation"
"Sixty dollarsw exclaimed Mrs. Grove.
''Tempy only had ninety dollars year that
came in to her; rest of her livin' she got by
helpin' about, with what she raised off this
little piece o. ground, sand on one side au
clay the other. An how often I've heard
her tell, years ago. that she'd rather see
Niagary than any other sight in the world!,
"She was just poor enough to do thati"
declared Mrs. Grove at last, in an abandon
ment of feeling. ''Say what you may, feel
humbled 20 the DUST" and her companion
ventured to say nothing. She had never
given away sixty dollars at once, but it was
simply because she had never had it to give.
1t came to her very lips to say in explana-
ton, "Tempy was so situated" but she
checked herself in time, for she would not
break in upon her own loyal guarding of her
dependent household
"Folks say great deal of generosity, and
this ones being publicasperited, and that
one fIee-handed about giving" said Mrs.
Grove, who was little nervous in the
silence. 81 suppose we can't tell the sorrow
it would be to some folks not to give, same's
'twould be to me not to save. l seem kind
of made for tibet, as If twas what I'd got to
do. | should feel sights better about it If
could make it evident what was savin' for.
If had child, / should think was heapin'
of it up because he was the one trained by
the Lord to scatter 1t again for good. But
here's Grove and me, we can't do anything
with money, and both of us like to keep
things same's they've always been. Now
Priscilla Dance was talking away like mill
clapper, week before last. She'd think |
would go right OF and get one o. them new
fashioned gilt-and-white papers for the best
room, and some new furniture, an marble
top table. And looked at her, all struck up.
why says /, Priscilla, that nice old velvet
paper amt hurt a mite. shouldn't feel
twas my best room without it. Dan'l says t
is the first thing he can remember rubin his
little baby fingers on to it, aud how splendid
he thought them red roses was / main
tain," continued Mrs. Grove. stoutly, shat
folks wastes sights C good money doin' just
such foolish things. Tearin' out the insides
O. meetin' houses, and ixin' the pews differ
emit; twas good enough as it was with mend
in; then times come, an they want to put it
all back same's twas before"
This touched upon an exciting subject to
active members Of the parish. Miss Binson
and Mrs. Grove belonged to opposite PARTIES
and had at one time come as near hard feel
ings as they could and yet escape them.
Each fastened to speak of other things, and
to show her untouched friendliness.
81 do agree with you," said Sister Binson.
shat few Of us know what's expected.
% 4oa vi I'D ol,o,,
such things. ought to defer to others" and
with this modest avowal the critical mo-
ment passed when there might have been an
improper discussion.
In the silence that followed the fact of
their presence In a house of death grew more
| clear than before. There was something
| disturbing in the noise of mouse gnawing
| at the dry boards of closet wall near by.
Both the watchers looked up anxiously at
the clock; it was almost the middle of the
night, and the whole world seemed to have
left them alone with their solemn duty.
Only the brook was awake.
Perhaps we might give a look upstairs
now," whispered Mrs. Grove, as if she
hoped to hear some reason against their 60
ing just then to the chamber of death; but
Sister Binson rose, with serious and yet
satisfied cOuntenance. and lifted the sma II
lamp from the table. She was much more
used to watching than Mrs. Grove and much
less affected by it. They opened the door
into small entry with steep stairway !;
they climbed the creaking stairs and entered
the cold upper room ON tiptoe Mrs. Groves
heart beat very fast as the lamp was put on
1. sxl, 1,,r 10 10,
about the walls. She went hesitatingly tow
ard the solemn shape under its white dra-
perry, and felt a sense of remonstrance as
Sarah Ann gently, but in, business-like
way, turned back the thin sheet.
Seems to me she looks pleasanter and
peasanter," whispered Sarah Ann Binson,
impulsively, as they gazed at the white face
with its wonderful smile. Tomorrow 1t
will all have faded out. do believe they
kind of wake up day or two after they die,
and it's then they CO." She replaced the
| light covering, and they both turned quickly
away; there was chill in this upper room.
"'Tis great thing for anybody to have
got through, ain it?" said Mrs. Grove,
softly, as she began to go down the stairs
on tiptoe. The warm air from the kitchen
beneath met them with sense of welcome
and shelter.
81 don't know why It is, bnt feel as near
again to Tempy down here as do up there"
replied Sister Binson. 81 feel as if the air
was full of her, kind of. can sense things,
now and then, that she seems to say. Now
| never was one to take up with no nonsense
of sperits and such. but declare l felt as
if she told me just now to put some more
wood into the stove"
Mrs. Grove preserved a gloomy silence.
She had suspected before this that her COM
panion was of weaker and more credulous
disposition than herself. "Tis great
thing to have got through" she repeated, ig-
noring definitely all that had last been said.
'I,suppose you know as well as / that Tenn
ply was one that always feared death. Well,
it's all put behind her now; she knows what
t. is" Mrs. Grove gave little sigh, and
Sister Binson's quick sympathies were
stirred toward this other old friend. who
also dreaded the great change.
sd never like to forgit almost those last
words Tempy spoke plain to me-" she said,
gently, like the comforter she truly was.
s'She looked up at me once or twice, that last