The Weiser signal. [volume] (Weiser, Idaho) 1890-1904, 1890-12-25

FOE tS&F cco III ilNl blE
chair holding a
corner of her checked gingham apron
to her streaming eyes. 81 reckon the
very cheer Pm a settin' in III have to
go, and I'll be turned out with moth
in but the clothes on my back"
A tall, slender girl, about 16 years
old, who had been kneeling by her
grandmother's chair vainly trying
to comfort the old lady, rose and
said: "Oh, no, grandmother, l don't
think it will be as bad as that |
will see to it that your old chair and
grandpa's are not sold. You can
save out such things as you care for
most, but you know that we shall
not need half of the things in the two
little rooms that we're going to live
in at the village
"Two little rooms in the village 7"
cried the old lady, throwing up both
hands with n fresh burst OF tears.
"And I've got to come down to two
little rooms, with my big closets and
but'ry, and good dry cellar, and nice
garden, and all thatl o Dotty, what
could your Grandpa Pickett have
been thinkin' of to be so keerless?
Dear mel dear mel'
"He didn't know, grandmother.
None of us could know that he'd be
taken away as be was" replied the
girl, her own eyes filing with tears.
Grandfather Pickett had been kill
ed instantly by a fall from his hay
NOW two months before. He had
been kind and good man, but I'M
wisely eccentric in some respects.
since he had always made it rule to
tell no one, not even his vile, OF his
business affairs.
women han't no head for bust
ness; their capacity lays in their
sp'eres," had been one of GRANDPA
Their Pickett's sayings. So his wife
had never been taken into his conf
dence and at the time OF his death
she knew almost nothing about his
private affairs.
Some truths she soon discovered.
to her sorrow. One of them came
home to her with stunning and cruel
force five days after the funeral, ~hen
Hiram Parks, u money lender living
IN the village, came to tell her, in
his cold, business-ike way, that the
mortgage he had held for ten wears
on the Pickett farm and never been
paid, and that u settlement must
now be made. He had besides note
for $500 given him by Grandfather
Pickett at the time the latter had
built his new barn and added the
last twenty acres to his farm. On
this note nothing but the interest
had been paid.
Poor dumfounded Mrs. Pickett
had not even known of the existence
of these notes.
"And my husband never paid you
anything on the note nor the mort
gage?" she asked Parks.
mo, ma'am, nothing but the in
terest. That was paid up regular
enough. He often said he could pay
some on them both, if he'd n mind
to, but he'd rather wait and pay it
all off in n lump. | supposed from
that that he'd money in the bank or
loaned out so it was bringing more
interest than he was paying me-
But n careful search among Mr..
Pickett's papers did not give evil
dence that any one owed him n dol
lar, and visit to the bank at the
village proved that he had no money
there.
"He never would put any money
in the bank" said Mrs. Pickett.
THAT was one of his oddsideas, and
he'd never pay for anything in pay
ments. lie always wanted to pay it
all in lump. But always thought
that mortgage must be bout paid
off, and it can't be that we've lived
up all we've got out of the farm in
NIL these years, with us sellin' $500
and $500 worth of stock at a time
If Ira had only told me more bout
his affairs. Now Pve got to meddle
with business, whether I've got any
head for it or not. Dear mel dear
mel"
All her lamentations ended with
that pathetic dear meln and n SOL
rowiul shake of her gray head.
Mrs. Picbest and her granddaueh-
ter, Dorothy, were lett alone Dor.
othy was the daughter of Mr.. and
Mrs. Picketts only child, who, with
his wife. had died when Dorothy was
but five years old, and since that
time she had been the light and ioy
of the fine old farmhouse.
And I've taken such comfort in
thlnkin' that your gran'pa an me
would live so nicely provided Tor and
in home of your own when we were
gone. Dear mel dear mel"
III don'p matter about me, grsnd.