Sullivan republican. [volume] (Laporte, Pa.) 1883-1896, 1891-08-07


been yesterday. I think we crippled
ones have keener memories than those
who share the minds work with the
body.
Aunt Meredith was an orphan, aud
had been reared and cared for by my
mother, her only sister, and Uncle
George, her oldest brother
The brother and sister tenderly dis
charged their duty toward her, and Aunt
Meredith. always conscientious, felt that
an immense debt was accumulating
against her; so that, when my dying
mother placed my hand in hers. and with
her last breath said, GAS have dealt
with you, Merry" thore was but one
thing for Aunt Meredith to do. She ae-
cepted the charge of the little cripple
committed to her care.
She was young then-just twenty
and was soon to have been John East
mans wife. When she had accepted the
new charge she sent for her lover to tell
him that the the marriage must be
postponed.
He protested, but Aunt Merry was
firm. ''Just one year, JOHN" she in
sisted. "Then we shall be better pre-
pared to accept the now-charge."
She would not say 'burden," but it
was a burden to lay upon her young
shoulders-a cruel sacrifice to ask of one
who, having never known home of her
own, was about to step into that sweet
peace which is found nowhere but about
the family tireside.
But she did not hesitate. 81 am only
paying interest on the debt owe his
mother, John; can never hope to pay
the principal" F." she urged.
John Eastman smothered his disap-
pointment, and said, 'It shall be as you
wish, Merry; but it will be very long
year to me-"
Before the year ended Uncle Georges
wife died, aud her two children, Robert
and Annie, were added to Aunt NIerry,s
charge.
She hesitated when Uncle George came
to ask her to come over and take charge
of his house.
"No, George" she said, 81 cannot. F"
'Just little while, Merry" he begged,
"until we can get things in working or
der; just one year."
''But there is joint" she insisted. ~
owe something to John"
"And to no one else, Merry2" asked
Uncle George. "What if Eunice and
/ had not cared for you when you were
left alone?"
She turned pale when Uncle George
reminded her of her obligation. After
all, more would be expected of her than
the mere interest upon her debt. Like
many other debts, whether of money, of
gratitude, or of affection, hers had come
to face her at the moment when she was
the least prepared for it.
Her lips trembled when she attempted
to speak, she put out her hand as il
seeking some support, and rested it
heavily upon the back of chair.
l can never forget that scene. Boy as
| was, realized that it was the sacrifice
of a life. l lifted my poor twisted body
upon my pillows, and from my corner
watched the struggle my aunt was max
ing.
Uncle George stood leaning against
the low mantel, looked heavy eyed and
weary. Aunt Merry stood before him,
with her hand upon the tall chair. The
young face was growing grave-thc girl
had given place to the woman.
While | watched, the sunlight crept
through the open window and crowned
the brown braids of hair with kind of
halo, just as the freight touches the
silver ones tonight. Then Aunt Merry
lifted her head aud said softly, 81 will
come, George"
So John Eastman was asked to wait
second time. "Just one year yet, John"
Aunt Merry begged. 'Let me feel that
l have at least paid my debt in part"
But at the end of the year she said,
''There is SO much to do, John; let us
give the children one more year. We
can spare so much to them. Just one!
l promise not to ask another, John"
With heavy heart he answered
for the third time, 'It shall be as you
wish, Merry"
think Aunt Merry began to feel then
that an unseen power was shaping her
life in strange, uncomprehcnded
mould.
Strange indeed! Before the year
ended a scourge passed over the city
The Angel of Death hung his black ban
ner on almost every door. Uncle George
was among the first to be stricken.
"God bless you, Merry" he said;
''don't forget the children; God bless
you'll" With the blessing still on his lips,
he left us.
Then she was glad that she had stayed
with him; the sacrifice was fully repaid
In that last blessing.
But the next day little Annie laid her
hot check against Aunt Merry's, and
cried out that the fever was burning her
throat. For eight days the little life
swung in the balance; but on the ninth
she crept into Aunt Merry's arms and
"Good auntie!" Just once
before death set seal upon the childish
lips.
The black banner foated again from
our door, and met an answering signal