The Telegraph-courier. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1888-1946, 1888-11-15
THE BROCADE SLIPPERS.

trated the dusky space, glancing
here and there upon a bit of glowing
color in some quaint gown that,
Imply pendant, retained not curve
Of the form it draped in times gone
by.
Beneath the caves, where floor and
rafters all but meet, leaned rows of
faded portraits in dull, furnished
frames. The painted eyes rested on
quaint old cradle, tattered books,
discarded dolls, a sled, a battered
rocking horse, a drum-forgotten
things that spoke of many genera
tons that been born and lived and
died beneath that roof.
There was a noise upou the stairs,
the click of dainty modern heels, and
a group of pretty girls inAeded the
garnet, seeking amusement from it's
treasures. The dust flew from the
lids of trunks and boxes, whose con-
tents-stiff brocades, clinging mus
Inns, homespun gowns and curious
fabrics still breathing of the Orient
whence they came-excited the
amazement and delight of the girls.
At last the leader of the party
dragged from dusky corner a
small, much worn trunk, covered
with horse hide and studded with
with brass nails. There was a tan
talizlng rustic of wrappings from
within, but the trunk resisted every
effort at opening it.
ut must be locked" cried Dolly,
hot and breathless.
"How provoking p exclaimed
Nell. Il wonder where's the key!.'
What key, dear?' asked a voice
from the door, where stood a new
conner
ooh, grandmamma, do please open
this for us?" cried the girls, Selling
upon the little lady, who, nothing
loath, produced bunch of keys and
and seated herself before the old
trunk.
There was breathless pause as
she lifted the lid and took from it's
wrappings marvellous gown of old
broCade. The girls spread out its
rich folds with cries of admiration.
1t was of beautiful rose color,
with tints of blue and other gorgeous
hues that blended in the harmony
only produced by subtle weavers of
the east. Threads of gold, outtlin-
ing a flower here and there, glittered
bravely in the lamplight as grandma
smiled over it.
"Was it yours, grandmamma p
asked Dolly.
eyes, DEAR" she answered, absent
ly, bending to lift small box from
the trunk.
"Ohl tell us about when you wore
it, begged Nell; "Tm sure it has a
story
eyes, it has, said grandmamma,
thoughtfuIly; "and I have cause to
remember it."
The girls seated themselves on
trunks and boxes and looked at her
in delighted expectation; for her sto-
ries were rare and much priced.
Holding her hands upon the little
box, she began:
"My life in this old house was
quietly happy. Until was 1o years
old there was no story to tell of it.
The railroad was not then built, and
people travelled by stage coach or
stayed at home. Houses were few
and scattered. A family whom l
will call Burton Qest you recognize
them too soon) were our nearest
neighbors, though half mile dis
tant. Sally and Polly Burton were
near my own age, and were my very
dear friends.
"On my eighteenth birthday l re-
ceived this brocade as a present
from my godfather. He was a sea
captain, and had brought chs from
the east on his last voyage 1t was
considered wonderfully beautiful
even there, SO you can imagine what
a sensation it caused here.
"Mother rightly thought It far toe
1