Abilene weekly reflector. [volume] (Abilene, Kan.) 1888-1935, 1892-09-01

cherie," the old lady said, as Jen, ac-
eording to custom, Invested herself of
hat and gloves and sat down by the in
valid's bedside. She saw at once a
change in the clear dark face. DR..
Byrnes had told her only that morning
the poor lady's hours were numbered,
yet Jenny, strong in youth and health,
felt keen shock from what she saw as
proof OF his words Only for n moment,
however. The wan face Of the invalid
had such peaceful, holy calm about it
1T was so content
There are many things have
wanted to say to-day, dear little GIRL"
Nine. Dupre half whispered ~ have
thought SO much Of what brought me
hereto find some trace Of Col. Roger
sons brother. As you know, only
heard Of his death. And now, Jenny,
am going to leave you what / would
have given him, the one wedding pres
cnt prepared for my darling Angelique.
Alas, II was too latcl She was ten
miles away from our plantation. I had
but one person TO trust with IL, an old
negro who was faithful TO us through
all gave It TO him 70 carry to my
darling with my blessing. Well, her
bctrothed had been killed that day and
week later she yielded TO the dread
full fever raging in New Orleans at the
time. Caspar brought back the cush-
ion-only little cushion, child, but IL
shall be yours. 1t has been my one
mcmento of that time"
Dear madame" said Jennie, very
gently, do not think of what will sad
den you"
but IL does not" exclaimed the old
lady, softly. "Oh, no; It is my happi-
ness. Go, my dear, TO the chest of
drawers; open the small one: there you
will find it. We had strange ways In
those hard war times" the old lady
continued, as Jcn, firmly convinced
madame was wandering, quietly did
her bidding at is only an old pin
cushion, but II could tell its story"
Jen opened the small drawer, and
saw, pinned in a ycllowish piece of
linen, the cushion. Fashioned of faded
blue and white brocade, edged with
old lace, there was something about 1t
which appeared to Jen strangely. The
eighteen-year.old Jcn, and this cushion,
made Of what had once been splendid
fabric, might have represented revolu-
tionary times as well as those of the
early sixties. Then It had been meant
for the wedding gift of Angelique, who
was, from madame's stories, an ideal
creature TO the young girl. Jen carried
the old cushion with reverent fingers
10 madamc's bed
Yours, dearest" murmured the old
lady. "All | have to leave you-and
for that have made my win"
Only Jen and Teddy Barry, and the
people with whom Nine. Dupre
had lodged, followed tho old lady to
her grave on the 10th. An hour later
Hiram Dali was ut the farmhouse,
with, IL possible, more disngreeablc
expression than usual on his face.
81 wish you joy, Jenny" he said,
with n sncer. "You are the old mad
ame's sole herl IIe hel She sent for
me TO draw up the will All for a pin
cushionl"
lie tossed it across the table con-
tcmptuously. Jenny could scarcely
control herself. She felt as though her
old friends legacy was desecrated.
"Got n running string in It, too" con-
tiuucd the old man, like a bag"
Jenny was looking at the cushion
with wet eyes She had really loved
the old Creole lady, Now, as Dali
spoke, she looked under the lace at
one side of Angeliquc's tone wedding
gift" and saw, sure enough, the thin
sillScn ribbon run in and tied at the
end. Her loosening of the knot so
long ago fastened was almost mechani-
cal, and then-how no one present ever
could exactly say, but as the brocade
drew back ont from the sawdust
rolled upon Jenny's lap heap Of shin
ing Jewels, rubies and opals, and bank
notes in what seemed to the girl an
Aladdin like profusionl After all, II
was easily explained. Situated as she
had been, Nine. Dupre's one means OF
sending money and the jewels TO her
only child had been in this fashion.
No one would suspect old Caspar OF
carrying such a treasure in n pin
cushion Of faded brocadc, and since
Angelique's death the sentiment in the
French woman's nature-perhaps q
touch OF superstition-had led her to
keeping it intact. Who can say?
This is true story, chapter out OF
the life of one of my friends, who now,
happy mistress Of the bonniest farm
in Connecticut, tells her children the
cushion story" and in n corner cabi-
net in her parlor the blue and white
brocade and old lace have their es-
pecial niche. Jenny INDUCED Ia no
mean triumph over old Dali when with
madame's queer legacy she bought
back the farm, but she and Teddy had
their own hour Of rejoicing, and when.
ever he does any specially fine piece
OF work in his profession Jen likes 10
say; That's n bit of our cushion. -
Ilarpcr's Young People,
Respectfully Joined.
once had curatc who got greatly