Fisherman & farmer. [volume] (Edenton, N.C.) 1887-19??, 1888-11-30
here to Thanksgivin'. I guess TIL

smuggling close up to her husband, II
think she is Eighty. She's so very old,
you know; she must be eighty, at the
very least
''Who is my neighbour Frank re-
sponded, softly ~ think your duty is
plain in this instance, my dear"
The little old relation was busy sew
ing at her balls of partl-colored silk
strips when the Thanksgiving company
arrived, next day, and she eagerly in
terviewed them as to the cast-off silk
dress question.
Each was of a different opinion, but all
we've adverse to the stranger.
'Lizzie, / wouldn't stand itp' cried
Mrs. Howard, a gay young neighbor.
can old crone like that. to come here
and settle right down on you, like the
Old Woman of the Sea! Why, l never
heard such impudence in my lifeI'
Aunt Rhoda shook her head solemnly.
Barbara Babcock used to visit
around in York State" said she, when
l lived there She was dreadful trial,
and there warn't none of her relations
but was glad to be rid OF her l wouldn't
like to undertake the care of herm
'But she's old. Rhoda," said Uncle
Lemuel; and she's had stroke or two,
folks say. l dunno what's to become of
her eff Elizabeth Ann sends her away"
az won't send her away" said Lizzie.
''She shall have home here. Frank
doesn't OBJ .ect, and we may be feeble and
fricndless ourselves some day"
Frank don't know what he's under
takin'," said Aunt Rhoda II hain't as
much patience with the old creetur' as
should hev had eff she hadn't squandered
away all her money, buyin' lottery
tickets She wouldn't hear to no ones
IA, Doh
obstinate as a mule.''
But Susie Starkey nodded approval to
her friend.
Il think you are doing right, dear"
she whispered.
So they all ate their Thanksgiving
dinner, with many compliments to Liz
zie's housewifely achievements; and just
as they were sitting around the fire,
cracking nuts and drinking home
| brewed cider, Uncle Lemuel uttered
cry of terror.
"Look at Barbara Babcock" said he.
'She's got another stroke!"
1t was true. The poor little old
woman had sunk down, all in heap, in
her chair, with a pleading look in her
distorted face, and the words elizabeth
Ann" quivering on her lips.
And the Thanksgiving party was
broken up in dire confusion and dis
may.
EFF she was to de- mysteriously
whispered Aunt Rhoda, cit would be
the best thing that could happen to her
an all her relations!"
But Miss Barbara Babcock did not
die. She lived on, all winter, into the
time when crocuses began to bloom and
the maple blossoms blushed redIy along
the edges of the swamps.
All this time she was quite helpless,
and her sole pleasure was IN looking at
the balls of vivid colored silk rags that
Lizzie ranged daily at the foot of her
bed, to amuse and quiet her.
''It'n make a dreadful pretty sort O.
curtains" she said, in the strange
tongue tied way common to paralytics.
''Pll finish 'em when I'm better. I'll
finish 'em, and Elizaberh Ann shall have
'em for her own"
The night before she died she suddenly
opened her eyes.
Aunt Rhoda was sitting, needle-work
in hand, by her side.
"Mind," said she, "them silk balls is
Elizabeth AIMS. I've given 'em to her,
signed and sealed in the paper under
my pillow. Mind you don't forgetw
"Oh, T'll not forget" said placid
Aunt Rhoda.
With the early dawn poor Miss Barby
went to the home where, let US hope,
| she was more welcome than she would
have been in earthly habitations.
Il don't want the silk rags said
Lizzie, when she heard of her quaint In
heritance "Poor thing They were
comfort to her, but of what use could
! they be to me2"
"You'd better take 'em," said Uncle
Lemuel ''Sell 'em to the rag man, if
| you can't make no better use of 'em."
"No." said Lizzie. ''Pll have them
woven into silk curtains, as she wanted
them 10 be. l can hire Melinda Proal
and her loom for a month. And Melinda
needs the work"
But when the balls of silk were un-
wound-there were hundred of them,
more or less-each ball was found to be
wound on a ten dollar bill, rolled into
cylindrical shape and doubled over.
And every ten-dollar bill was Lizzie Els
tons now.
"She didn't spend it all for lottery
| tickets, it seems" observed uncle
Lemuel.
'Iittle girl. what are you bordering
about" SAID the captain to Lizzie, VINO
stood silently looking out upon the
greening woods.
Il was thinking" said Lizzie, "of last
Thanksgiving Day. How thankful L am
that you wouldn't let me send poor old