Iron County register. [volume] (Ironton, Iron County, Mo.) 1867-1965, 1890-12-25

who are those children, uncle?"
queried Mr.. Roman, gazing after them.
''Dey's po' Massa Blake chilluns, sab.
Yo' mem bers tole you how Massa Tom
done die las week we'll dey's his twins.
Dey do say it's scan'lous how Miss
Blake's bein' treated. Massa Tom done
sign note fur genneman, an he can't
5ay. an dey is ter be auction dere to-
morrow, an Massa Tom not dead a week
yet scasely. POI Miss Blake!"
That night Mr.. Roman Sat up late in
his library, reading over letters and
parers he had not seen in ten years
not since the day he had had that quar-
rel with Tom Blake, for it was that
same morning he had received cable
gram calling him, to Europe to take
possession of a large estate left him,
and yesterday he had reached home for
the first time since his hurried depart
ure.
Il was just beginning my battle with
the world then" he unused; now I
feel like a warrior, battle-scarred and
lonely. How enthusiastic Tom and
were then! how close our friendship
was!"
And taking up an old letter, low
laugh burst from his lips as he read its
witty illusions to an almost forgotten
college scrape.
A very different look came into his
face as he glanced down the pages of
the next Letter which met his eye, and
read:
my DEAR FELLOW: After all, find I can
lend you that money. have seen old Brown,
and he is willing TO give il If mortgage the
Meadow Farm. I don't like mortgages, but we
must save your home. Brown imagines there
is coal under that land. think not. I'll tell
you secret, though I know there is under
the field adjoining
In ten years l hope to have money to open
my mining land: meantime I'll use my Meadow
Farm to save your home, and you can repay me
before the mortgage falls due. 1 had intended
to settle both farms Nellie as soon as We
were married; if any thing happens to me,
my dear boy you may consider Nellie and her
interests your legacy from
Yours as ever, TOM"
ITO think / threw away friendship
like that!" almost groaned Mr.. Roman,
as he laid down the paper. Then sud-
den thought struck him, and he hastily
rang the bell.
Uncle Peter" he said, "who owns
what used to be Mr.. Tom Blake's
Meadow Farm?"
'Old Mr.. Brown, sab; he got power
full rich on dat farm. Yo' see, sab, hits
got a coal-mine in it. Oh, yes, sab, he's
rich"
And Tom mortgaged that land to
save my old home" thought Mr.. Ro-
main, sorrowfully. 81 wonder if it
could be that the check 1 sent from En-
gland did not get to him in time? In
any case he's dead, and Nellie and the
children penniless, and" glancing at
the letter agatha legacy to mel"
San auction almost at Christmas eve!
Why, it seems fairly barbarous,"
thought Mr.. Roman, Indignantly, as
he entered what had been the pleasant
home of his friend Tom, and was so
soon to be left desolate under the hands
of the auctioneer.
1t was early in the day, but already
the house was filled with neighbors
who had come from miles around to at
tend the sale; and as Mr.. Roman moved
greeted with remarks on the foolishness
Of "signin' for people,"
Sick at heart, he entered the little
kitchen back of the house, which was
as yet unoccupied, save by Mrs. Blake's
faithful old colored cook, Aunt Nancy.
She was sitting on a split-bottomed
chair, rocking herself to and fro, and
occasionally wiping her eyes with her
blue-rhecked apron.
Where is your mistress, auntie?"
Mr.. Roman asked.
There was kindly ring in his voice
that unlocked the old woman's bur-
dened heart, and she sobbed aloud as
she answered:
''Oh, massa, she done took de chill
tins, an gon' to her cousins Miss
Rachel. 1t jest broke my po' ole heart
to see 'em go! But Miss Blake say she
couldn't stand it here, an dey have to
60 soon sure. POI things! only de good
Lord know what's to come of dem, she
say"
'Oh, massa, hits awful hard on
missis, dis is. She went all over de
house dis mornin' tryin' to say good
bye to it. De little ones a-clingin' to
her KEEP pickin' up things. Mamma,
dey won't take my wockin'-horse, will
dey?' Mamma, will de nauction man
Diet my little chair?' dey ask. Missis
tried to hol back de tears an speak
chirk to dem chilluns. but when she
stay out here, darlings; mamma wants
to go in here alone / took de chilluns.
but presently I peek in de room. an
dere was my POI missis, a kneelin' fore
massa's big armchair, wild her head a
lynn on de big family Bible dat she'd
put on de chair; she had her arms
around dat, an she was cryin' softly.
oh, my husbardr she whispered
over and over, an den she say:
:" "A fader to de faderless husband
to de widow. Dear Lord, let dis cup
pass from me-
Il shet de do den. By'm by she come
out. all white an trem bin, but she
tried to smile on de chilluns as she led |
dem down the walk.
Dose po' little things! Rosy was
huggin' her rag doll an tryin' to hide it
under her apun, an Roman was totin' |
Pickle, de chicken, clost in he arms. |
De nauction man can't take mammals |
an SO he can't take ours, dey'd |
keep sayin'."
"Romain?' repeated her visitor.
Eyes, sab, Roman; OATS for frien' |
of Massa Toms. Massa not see him |
for years, but he talk a heap o Mr.. |
Roman"
THANK God! Tom forgave me" whis- |
pered Mr.. Roman, as he left the kitchen |
in response to the business-like tones of |
the auctioneer that now rang out clear |
and cold as he began offering the parlor |