The Bennington banner. [volume] (Bennington, Vt.) 1858-1894, 1890-03-27
ApnnR RELATION.

the long-handled iron fork she had been
using still in her hand. Emmeline was
hem-stitching q bureau scarf, but she
laid it down to look out A little old
woman in black calico dress, rusty
black shawl and an old straw bonnet was
coming down the country road. Her
scanty skirts tapped in the wind, and
her face was purple with the cold. The
bare hands holding the shawl together
were purple too. She nodded to Emme-
line when she reached the gate, but did
not smile. Her stiff fingers fumbled
with the latch of the gate some time be
fore she could get it open, and the old
shawl blew away from her bent should
ers: but she did not look at Emmeline
again Emmeline put the bureau scarf
on the window-seat and went to open the
kitchen door. She didn't know exactly
why She did it: she had never been eX-
pected to show Aunt Eunice any atten-
ton. The old woman was only distant
relative, called Aunt through courtesy.
"Jest back from Mis- Jenkins funeral,
amt YEP" said Mrs. Pond, holding the
colander over the kettle on the stove,
and dropping the crisp doughnuts into
it one by one as she picked them with
the long fork from the boiling lard. II
expect there was good many there"
Aunt Eunice shook her head. She had
taken a seat near the stove, and had
turned the front of her dress up over her
knees that the blaze might not fade 1t.
Emmeline could see her coarse gray yarn
stockings and worn shoes. One of the
shoes was laced with piece of brown
Irvine.
well she never was any hand to
make friends, so she couldn't really ex'
pect much of funeral" said Mrs. Pond
''Who's goin' ter take the house"
sam Tarbox; he's movin' in now"
you'll stay right along with them,
s'pose?' IT wouldn't seem like home
ter We nowhere else, We lived with Mis-
Jenkins so long"
The old woman drew long breath
that was almost a sigh. "rhey hahn
got room for me-" she said, slowly
"Thcre's eight children"
An expression of annoyance crossed
Mrs. Ponds face. Her lips frightened IL
a way they had whenever she was vexed
seems if Mis- jenkins oughter left
you somethin', seein as you'd lived will
her so long" she said, presently.
"She didn't hev nOthin' ter leave-only
the furnitoor. Tim jenkins, he took
tibet; the team come over for it jest as
the funeral was a-movin out.
"Wcll, s'pose you've looked out tol
another placer" said Mrs. Pond. She
had friend the last of the doughnuts and
was taking the kettle from the stove.
The old woman did not answer imme
diatcly. Her faded blue eyes were star
ING straight before her at the shining
stove: her brown, knotted hands were
outstretched to the friendly warmth
There was a tremulOus movement of hel
lower lip for moment before she spoke
Yes, I've been round" she said
but faint so easy gettin' place wher
body gets old; N I've worked so hare
all my life rmkinder wore out. Ant
I'm laid up consid BILE with the rheuma
tiz, too, OFF m on"
''Still, we got place, spose?''
Mis- saunders, she said she'd taxi
me. She won't give no wages, though
N I'd hev ter du the milkin."
She spoke in a slow, lifeless voice, al
if tired out. Emmeline, looking at her
thought what sorry thing it was to b.
old and friendless and poor.
Mis- Saundersm she exclaimed. :"
wouldn't live with her for fifty dollars
month N do nothing. Folks say you
can hear her scold a mile off; N she
never satisfied, no matter what's dom
for her. That's the reason she can
keep help; they won't stay to be quar-
relied at You'd have an awful hard tim
there. Aunt Eunice.'
Most everything's hard-for som
folks said Aunt Eunice, after pause
AN it's either Mis- Saunders or Sila
IIowes place
Again Mrs. Ponds lips frightened. Sh
paused in her work of washing the sim
to look around at the old woman by tn
stove.
Then let it be Mis- Saunders" sh
said. "Anything's better'n the poor
house, seems ter me-"
II amt settled on nothin' yit," sal
Aunt Eunice, rising stihy.
"Goin?" inquired Mrs. Pond.
Yes; iist stopped by ter warm. It
kinder blustery out, N got chile
through
There said Mrs. Pond, as the doc
closed ON the old woman, and her foo
steps were heard in the crunching sno'
of the path around the house. Il d,
clare! never offered Aunt Eunice nu
cake"
Il guess she wouldn't have cared fc
it, said Emmelinc. Its awful-ain
it, mother?-to think of her going to I'll
poOr-houSe?'
That's the worst o. poor relations,
said Mrs. Pond, little irritably. "Y
never know what they're goin ter d.
Aunt Emice didn't manage right. 81
had enough N ter spare twenty yea
ago: but she let that Sam Nettleby swil
die her out of it, N then she he'd ter 2
out ter service. She ulster be maste
hand ter work. but now she's old y
ell Il ha,. Gln IL
well enough for Mis- Jenkins-just Il
two of EN- N that small hOuse-but 81
won't last six months if she goes to Mi
Saunders
Seems strange some folks should ha'
so much, N other folks so little" sa
Emmeline, musingly, as she took up ii
bureau scarf again. Now here we ha'
more rooms than we know what to {
with, m there's Aunt Eunice with l
home at ALL.
That's the way with life," rejoint
her mother, as she wrung out the dis
cloth. hung it on a nail over the sink, al
then left the room. She came back aga
presently with her thick cloak on and
black wOrst5d hood in her hand. AZ
goin' over to see Mis- Hail. she sal
Il want ter get her ter show me abo
that stitch for the border of my b,
spread. | won't be gone long"
When she was outside the gate in Il
road she turned around and looked ba,
ut the house a moment. 1t was lar
red brick house, with a wide porch
front and rooms on both sides of the ha
There were evergreen trees in the fro
yard, and a graveled walk led down
the gate. Along the fence was row
lilac bushes. People always said tn
Mrs. Pond hadn't anything to compla
of about her house, and she thought
herself 1t gave her pleasure to Loo
back at il now, thinking of Aunt Euni
and the poor-house. What a comfort
gives one to have a settled home! MI
Hall lived in brown frame house neal
mile away. There was large yard
front, and two children were racil
around in the snow. When they So
Mrs. Pond coming they ran to the ga
and climbed up on it. One was stOl
rosy-chceked boy about ten years oil
the other little girl, whose perpetu
smile and vacant eyes told their Ov
story to all who looked at her. DO
children got down from the gate VIII
Mrs. Pond stepped before it.
MAS in the Kitchen" said the DO
You can 90 round that way" pOintil
to a brick walk leading around the si
of the house. A thin, delicate-lookil
girl of about thirteen years of age open
the kitchen door in answer to Nj
Ponds knock Mrs. Hall was sitting
a chair by the fire, rocking child whit
had just fallen asleep. There we
traces of tears on his chubby cheeks, al
n sob escaped his lips at regular int
vas.
gsIVbat child is that9n asked NJ,
Pond, taking the chair the little g
brought forward for her.
IFS little Benny Price; his moth
died yesterday" answered Mrs. Hall.
you mean the woman who went o
-, I Ta,NnrOfH