Juniata sentinel and Republican. [volume] (Mifflintown, Juniata County, Pa.) 1873-1955, 1888-05-30

child went round to the window-ledge
TO look at her pansies. There were
TWO pretty purple things, with lus-
trous, golden hearts. Looking at the
dewy blossoms, a sudden thought
flashed upon her.
What If she could break them of
and run out and sell themi Surely
they would bring enough to buy them
some breakfast But her lips quivered
and tears filled her eyes. 1t almost
broke her heart 10 give up her pansies.
But she was so hungry, and poor
grandpa would have no breakfast. AT
this last thought she put out her hand
resolutely and broke them of; then ran
away as fast as she could.
at corner of the market-place she
paused breathless. A fine gentleman
was p plssing by, and extending the tiny,
brown hand that held the blossoms,
she said timIdly:
viii you please, sir, buy my pan
sies?''
But he pushed on, well-n;gh brush.
ing them from her grasp. The next
passer was an old countryman, with a
wagon filed with milk-cans rafting
ahead of him. The child put out her
blossoms, and repeated her meek en-
treaty. The old man paused. His
garden was overrun with such things,
but the child's little, eager face
touched him.
"Buy your pansies?" he said. why,
bless your poor, little heart, to be sure
l Will, II you want to sell 'em. What
do you want for 'em?"
''Only enough to buy loaf, sir. We
are so hungry. grandpap and l."
The countryman's eyes filed with
tears.
Take this,' said he, drawing his
sleeve across his eyes, ''and run home
and buy some breakfast.
He put silver piece in her hand.
She grasped 1t with dllatlng eyes.
1.-The good God reward youln she
muImured, kissing his hands vehe-
mently. Then, before he was aware of
her motion, she had disappeared.
'Grandpapi Oh, grandpapl see
what I've got" she cried, bursting
into the little room a few minutes
later; 'see what sold my psnsies for.
Weu have such breakfast now,
bread and sausage. and"--
But she stopped short, for, In the
middle OF the room, the old man lay
prone on his face. She fiew to his side.
with startled cry, tossing her silver
piece into the old chair.
''Oh. grandpapl" raising his head,
''what is 1t? Speak TO me, grandpapl''
The old man slowly reused and tot
tered to his feet. His face looked
CHASTITY, he had tasted 50 long, and he
shook with weakness.
"Grandpap," the child continued,
''you shan't be sick any more; it is b.
cause you're hungry-you shall have
plenty OF breakfast now. I've sold my
pansles, and-ohl where is the money!
threw 1t in the chair when L was SO
frightened. Oh! it's gone, it's gone.
It's slipped down behind the cushion, y
she said, examining it closely. "May
try to raise the cushion up and find
it?"
Eyes; but don't hurt the old chair,
E-atihl," said the old man, anxiou5ly.
The child ran her little Fingers into
every crevice, and at last she fell TO
working vigorously at the huge cushion.
1t was covered with leather beneath
the brocatelle, but it was decayed and
rotten, and a few vigorous tugs from
her nervous little hands broke it loose
with a crash.
''Oh, grandpap!' she cried, starting
back In amazement, for, as it yielded,
glfttering stream came flashing and
tinkling to the floor.
The old man, hearing the sound,
crossed over. 4 sudden light seemed
to dawn upon him. He threw up his
hands and cried.
'Shut the door, Matihl, and tell me
what they are like"
Here's jewels, grandpap," she said,
in an awed whisper, whole heaps of
'em, as bright as stars; and great piles
of gold, and papers with Jacques De
COurcy marked on 'em."
Put them all back, MatIhl," said
the old man, quietly; land then run
down to the good abbe's and ask him
to come here"
But our breakfast, graudpap?" said
the child, pausing in the doorway.
1--WE can afford to wait a little
while for that" replied the old man,
smiling. "We shall never want for
breakfast any more, little Matihl."
"Thi5 Is a letter from Pierre De
Courcy," said the abbe, after a careful
examination of the contents of the
chair, ''telling his only son, Jacques
De Courcy, that these treasures were
concealed in the chair, in order that,
If fortune went against him. he might
have something TO fall back upon. But
the chair seems to have passed from the
family. Where can this Jacques De
Courcy be?''
- am the man." said the old rush
seller, proudly. Jacques De Courcy,
son of Pierre DE COurcy, thank GOd!"
After that morning the market
people missed the old rush-seller and
his little granddaughter, and passing
the sunny nook where they had stood
so long, wondered what had become Of
them. If they had CHANGED to pass the
ancestral villa formerly occupied by
the De Courcys they would have found
them. The old man sitting in his gar
den, and little Matlhl tending her roses
and pansIes that grew along its borders.
the appiest pair that could be found
In the quiet, sunny, old city.