The Somerset herald. [volume] (Somerset, Pa.) 1870-1936, 1890-06-04


An auction was going on at the old vel
low farm house on the hill. Bachelor
Barker was dead, and his heir, young
nephew whom he had never seen since
the boy was four years old, had come
down TO sell things Off Rumor said he
intended to tear down the old house af
terward and take money from the bank
and build fine new residence, with a
mansard roof
It's a shame" said one or two. "Such
a pity Barker did not make a will. He
must have had some intention about
such a property. lie never could have
intended all that wealth to 90 to boy
he did not like enough TO ask over for
the summer"
The Doctor felt sure he would have
founded hospital, and placed him in it
as resident physician for life, if the viii
had been made.
The clergyman knew he meant to do
something for the church. The Profess
or had heard him speak of free library
and reading room. Every one knew of
something, and all the far-away cousins
had expected legacies.
Every one thought the arrangements
ali wrong, but the heir and the auction
err, who had made an inventory of the
old furhiture-the tall clock, the andi-
rons, the solid tables with leaves, the
spinning g-wheels, big and little the fid-
dle-back chairs, and adj those other pos
sessions adored by the fashionable to-day
but utterly despised twenty years ago
as old things that we're not worth their
keeping"
The young heir would, if he built his
villa, furnish it with sets of the latest
style, with Brussels carpets, with white
grounds and bright wreathes of roses
scattered over them,
Cant get much for the old sticks, >
he said, " but I'd like to clear up and be
done with it."
Miss Camiola Brown, sitting at the
front up-chamber window, cutting out
calico short-waists for Mrs. Blacks five
little boys, laid down her shears for once
in her life, and with her elbows on the
sill, watched the people as they walked
or drove past, and entered in at the
gates Of the late Mr. Barker's premi-
ses.
Poor Benjamin !" she sighed. l
wonder whether up in heaven he re-
members the day when he took me
in and walked me all through the old
house ?"
"The things are old-fashioned, Camio-
la he said to me but they were my
mother's-and before that they were my
grandmoihers. like them, but say the
word, and I'll new furnish No, Bsn,'
SAYS /, what your ma liked to have, l
don't want to alter. like it all it's
stuff'-and then-and then he kissed
me-"
Miss Camiola felt for her handkerchief
as she said this to herself. And we
stood at the grand window and looked off
toward the mountains We're going to
be happy as ever folks were,' said he.
Here the tears began TO fall. "Oh, Ben,"
she sobbed, to think we quarreled after
that, and didn't speak when we met
But you never married, and l refused two
ofFers-good ones. But, Ben, l guess
well meet up there some time and make
up.
Poor Camiola put her head down on
her arms and cried softly among the
purple blossoms of the wistsris that veil
ed the window. No one could see her
from the road. But her tears dried soon,
and she came back to the present.
They were selling the old furniture at
auction. The claw-footed sideboard, the
settle, the big mahogany cradle in which
four generations of babies had been
rocked-all these dear old things that
were once to have been hers, as Benja
min Barker's wife, and she was poor
seamstreSs, an old maid going from house
to house for her boa:d and fifty cents a
day looking forward to feeble old age,
and with an awful dread in her soul of
becoming town poor" at last.
Ifshe had married Ben, how different
it would have been.
"Wby, Miss Camiola you've been a
cryin'?" said Mrs. Blacks loud voice,
Just then, in her ear. Camiola started
guiltily, but she was too candid to COM
plain of cold or the sun in her eyes.
Well, l have cried little, Mrs.
Black" said she. "You see, we used to
be friends, Mr.. Barker and l, and / knew
his ma, and | remember all that furni-
lure, and it seems sin TO sell it and tear
down the old house, and maybe root up
the liIacs and strawberry shrubs, and,
peIhaps, cut down the trees. 1t was al
most like home to me in Mrs. Barker's
day"
Well, it must seem sin to any one,
and more so to you, Miss Camiola, said
Mrs. Black. But don't you want to 60
over and see the place, and what is going
on? You might as well just take day,
or the rest of it. I'm in no hurry, and
you look tuckered out"
Mrs. Black was kind in her way, and
felt certain pity for Camiola. She had
heard that Camiola was once engaged to
Mr.. Barker, and might to-day have been
a rich and important widow, instead ola
poor, lonely seamstress.
"Go along, Miss Camiola,' she added.
" know you want to-"
"Did she want to?" Camiola asked
herself and from her heart came the
answer, Yes"
She would see the old home once