The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1889-12-21

meats with great zest.
'Oh, that means, Miss Pert, that do
not help the Busy Bees or Silver Thin
bles, or some other philanthropic club,
for promoting good fellowship among
the poor. l do give something away,
even if you don't seem to know it."
81 don't believe it," answered the girl,
quietly.
Bessie! Bessiew they all shouted, in
chorus, ''you have been rude to Uncle
Silas-you must ask his forgiveness"
"Bessie," said Mrs. Van Pelt, with
that extreme eagerness with which many
good people smite their children for ex-
pressing honest opinions, ''you can leave
the room"
mo! MOI" said Uncle Silas, who liked
the little girl-she was only fifteen
Bessie doesn't mean to be rude. So
she thinks I'm q miser, does shea
Shylock, because don't give my hard
earned money to professional beggars.
My dear, if did 1 could not give you
the pearl and ebony writing-desk you
wanted for Christmas. Hey, my pet"
| II don't want it." said Bessie, with
spirit; II would rather have that old one
of grandma's up in the attic, the one she
signed many check on at Christmas to
go to the poor"
"Hey! is it there? Is m-m-others
desk up in tn attic, Sophie2 member
it quite we'll"
Eyes, and it looks lonesome up there,
too, but it is old-fashioned and clumsy
answered his sister.
81 like old-fashioned things, and old
fashioned people if they have good
hearts like hers and do good with their
money as she did," said Bessie.
'Well, we'll, let's have some games
and music" said tho old man with gruff
good nature and soon the entire family
engaged in game of blind-man's-bu buff
to wind up the evening.
'Be very careful of yourself, Silas, -
said his sister; you may be robbed or
murdered some of these nights going
home"
Il haven't cent about me-" said the
old man, hastily, but not without shud-
der.
do you want me to see you safe home,
| Uncle Silas?" asked Bessie, who had re-
covered her good temper.
mo, Miss Spitfire, not tonight Your
old uncle's got some sight in him yet.
It's only two short blocks to my house
and have good cane in my hand"
II wish you would rent that house and
come live with u.s." remarked his sister.
She was in independent circumstances
herself, but not rich. She wanted her
| brothers money when he was done with
| it, not sooner. But she never saw mill
of it, and his fine offer of the writing
desk to Bessie was all bravado and she
knew it. He had never given the child
| a present in his life.
But he talked poverty, poverty, all
day long, and declared that the hand
some house in which he lived alone, and
| where his wife had died-as some said
for lack of the necessaries Of life-was
mortgaged to its full value. Bessie had
often gone to him knowing that he had
Golfers of gold-and begged money for
some Christmas tree or charitable enter
tainment, and it always pleased him
he liked SO we'll to deny her When he
was gone and the door closed after him,
shutting out the awful chill of his pres
| ence, which seemed to intensity the cold
| night air, Bessie sat down and waited
patiently for her mothers lecture. She
felt sure it would come and was not dis
appointed. The younger children had
gone up to bed, so there was no inter
ruption.
''It's perfectly disgraceful" her
mother began; you know your uncle
expects to leave his money to US, and
you treat him in such manner that he
will go and endow charity with it,
81 wish he would, mamma" answered
Bessie; ''I'm sure his money will never
do US any good. He will hate to see
anybody spend it. asked him for ten
dollars for our Christmas tree for the
poor, and he danced up and down and
declared he hadn't so much money in
the world. Mamma, he is very poor"
Poor! Your Uncle Silas poor? Why,
child, he owns blocks of brick houses on
the avenues and he has enormous sums
out at interest"
"What does that do for him? When
he wants good dinner he comes here
and gets it. Every Sunday and every
holiday he eats at our expense, and when
| ask him for paltry ten dollars he de-
MES having it. hate Uncle Silas."
go to bed, miss" said her mother.
angrily; ''you are wanting in respect to
your Uncle Silas and to me-"
"Not to you, mamma, DEAR" said the
child, softly; there is ano. her crows
foot-let me kiss it; every time that
Uncle Silas comes here he leaves crow
feet and wrinkles, if not on our faces in
our hearts,"
'Silly child" said the mother, but in
softened tone. There was look of her
dead father in the girls face that dis
armed the mother of her anger. Then
she was such brave little thing, daring
to speak the truth and do the right.
They parted with another caress at the
foot of the stairs.
Silas Marks went home looking at
every shadow, peering into dark places,
and with his stick dubbed in his hand
ready for any raid from the highway as
sassin. Nobody molested him, and he
ran up the steps of his house just as the
sonorous tones of the bell in the city
tower rang out ten. He was a little con-
fused missed oOuptipo tbo .+ro1-o. -