Afro-independent. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn. ;) 1888-1???, 1888-09-22

up no hard feelin's bout the time I
spa nkea you with a fence palm. do
you? You played hooky three days
han runnin. an felt like | he'd to lay
it on. On dear oh dear!H
Now, mother, don't you take on
like this besought Henry. blinking
the wet out of his eyes. You be calm;
I'll see whut ] kin do" he added, re-
azsuringly.
As the new railway became the sole
topic of discourse in the village. Mrs.
Giltner waxed more and more anxious.
Every thing about the house grew
doubly dear to her.
Take this press. now" she said,
peering into the dark hold of closet
in the lving-room; Il wouldn't know
how to git along without it. This
house Is ez much me ez my pore old
body Is, Verandy; you might ez well
try to transplant an old oak ez 10 drag
me into another house; couldn't
breafe. Git me the blue caliker apron,
child; this top shelf smells kind o.
dusty; I'm goin' to rid it up some.
Hand me up little warm water in the
old tin basin, an throw in scrap o
sal-sody."
II cleaned tibet press last week,
gra'maw; I'll do it over, though" said
Veranda.
''I'm goin' to work with it myself.
You take your needle-work awhile.
don't want you should be all clustered
out an hurried to'ds the last so'z you'll
look fady in your weddin' ixin's; you
got to save yourself all you kin. :"
Though Mrs. Giltner was happily
ignorant of the fact, the house had
been sold month before this. and she
had signed the papers, uncon-
scious Of their purpOrt. Henry
had been unable to prevent its sale;
his hope was to keep the matter from
his mothers ears till it should be nee
essary to tear down the house. By that
time he felt sure she could be brought
To- regard the affair with more cour-
ageous eye.
One day, however. long before the
tale was ripe for telling, needless
neighbor came in and revealed every
thing.
The old woman took the news with
a kind Of stricken calmness.
did you know it, Verandy?" was
all she said.
Veranda timidly admitted her
knowledge of the underhand transac-
ton. whereupon her grandmother gave
her one sad, stern look, and straight
way took to her bed, turning her face
TO the wall, and refusing comfort of
her friends. Weeks passed on, and
still she lay there, staring by the hour
at the drawn square OF Turkey red
calico lining the canopy of her four
posted bed. her thoughts seeming
fixed upon the brass stud gathering
the fold to center, as II magnetized
by its brightness. Daily the sound
of picks and the rumble of carts drew
nearer.
One morning she turned her deep
eyes. the only parts of her shrunken
face limiting at life, upon Veranda, who
sat by the bed.
They've begun on my yard" she
said. nodding toward the window, her
head keeping up the motion afterward,
as If shaken by the thought.
"Why, Gra'maw," faltered Veranda.
''you don't hyear nothin'' do you?"
She herself heard nothing, for the
workmen were studiously quiet at their
task.
"a pick went inter the fur corner o.
my yard just then, over whar the
tanzy bushes grow" said the old wom-
an. 1T wuzn't only the sod it cut,
Verandy, it wuz me. felt it yere."
she added, laying her thin hands on
her breast, in a tranquil clasp that
sank once with her failing breath and
rose no more.-Era Wilder Nicolas
Son, ia HGrper's Bdzdr.