Burlington weekly free press. [volume] (Burlington, Vt.) 1866-1928, 1891-09-04
believe it was that began the shindy-


and things went from bad to worse,
until Uncle Ben built that great brick
wall between the gardens topped with
iron spikes, and spoiled both places.
Now when l come home Tom passes
Inc by, Hike q contemplate cock-sparrow
that he is, his hat Oh his ear, and Uncle
Bon snorts like locomotive, and Kitty
pretends never to see me in church; he1
eyes are ALWAYS fixed on her PRAYER
book | am stranger to them all, and
the two cooks and the two coachmen
and the two gardeners have taken up the
quarrel, and all fight each other Tom
Childcrs shoots our cats when they
perch on the bricl; wall and the cook
throws the dead cats over into our gar
den, and our cook throws them back,
with the addition Of broken crockery,
bottles and old boots"
THAT is not the worst of it," said
Mrs Spofford with Il sigh, taking UP her
embroidery a~nju 1T is almost the
same as if Kitty and Aunt Sophy and
Uncle Ben We're all dead and buried.
Your father and have agreed never to
speak of Them, to ignore the place just
as if it did not exist, hut we can't sit on
our veranda when they are on theirs, for
every word is plainly overheard, or if
we do we are forced to speak in wins
p"rs. We have heard Uncle Ben say
OdiOus things about us when our backs
were turned, and soue OF the warmest
days nave closeted myself and nearly
stiHed because it WAS 50 painful to sit
there ana see my old friend Mrs Chill
drrs looking thin and pale and worn. |
know it weighs on her. too. poor woman.
She has been i'll lately. and it has gone
to my heart to know she Is SO poorly
without being able to say kind word.
| ucia Ben : nature seems quite changed.
He tries TO irritate your father in every
way. The pipes broke some weeks ago
and flooded the cellar, and now he has
bNTun suit against us for damages.
Something about the connecting drains.
don't understand it at all. and l dare
not ak Your father to explain; it makes
him look SO apathetic. | sometimes
think this quarrel viii shorten his days.
! would gladly sell the house and move
away, but your father never will give
in. II would look too much as if he
were the under dog in the fight. Why,
its almost like living in Il perpetual state
of sie-e. You never know when your
enemy will make breach in the wall;
and then to remember that You have
once loved the en- my 80 dearly. and that
now il is your duty 10 hate him, distort8
things horribly.'
Mar; had gone back TO his low chair.
and sat with his elbows on his knees.
and his bi; hands thrust through his
thick chestnut locks As he raised his
eyes from the carpet his glance pass d
through the open window, and there in
plain sight was the wall of Kitty's
home, a brick and gray stone wall over
run with wistoria vine that clambcrcd
about the drawingroOln window. screened
by a lace curtain, with 4 largo bowl of
Geraniums which kilty's hands bad ar
ranged.
Mark knew that his own bedroom win
dow was exactly opposite Kitty's, on
the second story, across pretty piece Of
greeusward shaded hya clmnpof droop-
ing Gins. But Kittv's window ON that
side was always closed with shutters and
blinds. There Were two other windows
opening from her room On the garden,
and the prospect Of ner ever appearing
on the SpOHOrd side ii the house seemed
quite hopeless. However, poor Mark
was not absolutely without some sign Of
her existeuce. At that very moment
the sound Of N.tty'a piano came stealing
across from Tire other house. lie could