The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1892-10-29
IN SPITE OF HIMSELF.

BY HELEN FORREST GRAVES.
Matte Matte! did you take that
huckleberry pie out OF the oven1
Yes, Aunt Ann.
And the cup custards-you didn't
forget the cup custards?
They're all right, Aunt Ann.
Matte! IN an accent one degree
shriller than usual.
Yes! What is it2
There's tramp coming up the
back garden path. Send him about
his business.
Yes. Aunt Ann.
Matte Vernon went valiantly to
the back door, prepared to do
battle, glancing this way and that as
she did so, TO make sure that there
was plenty of boiling water on the
stove, and that the broom was
handy, in case OF need.
Well, said Matte to herself, eye
ing the mass of rags on the doosteps,
you are a tramp. Nobody could
possibly mistake you for anything
else. What do you want? she added
aloud.
Could you spare me an old shirt,
young lady7 or suit of clothes?
I'm in great need
That's what you all say! crisply
interrupted Matte. I'm sure !
don't know where you get all your
rags and tatters from. You're just
from hospital, suppose. That's
the next chapter.
But even as she spoke her wom-
anly heart melted within her at the
sight of the tired, pale face, the
wretched garb.
No, said he, with sigh, I'm not
from the hospital.
I He was turning away, when she
recalled him.
Wait a minute, said she. Pll go
see what can find.
Boiling the door unceremoniously
in his face, she went to store room
opening out OF the unused best
parlor.
l don't care! said Mattis arguing
with herself with a certain herce
impatience. Uncle Jobs things have
lain here, of no use to anybody,
since he died. That poor fellow
may as we'll have them, l suppose.
She came back presently with a
compact little bundle under her arm.
There. said she, finging it out of
the window, lake it and begone!
For, she added to herself, if Aunt
Ann should find out I'd been giving
away any of Uncle Jobs old traps
Why, goodness me! he's eaten up
the huckleberry pie and the three
cup custards that left to cool On
the buttery window ledge! Here,
give me back those clothes! You
shant have so much as rag. You
don't deserve theml
She had unbolted the door as she
spoke, and, with a quick, light
movement, caught up the bundle
before the stranger could possess
himself of it.
I'm very sorry, he said, penitently,
but was desperately hungry and
didn't stop to consider.
Didn't stop to consider? indig
nantly repeated Matte. No, l should
think not. You are a thief Do
you hear that? Not only vagabond
but thief! And | should think a
great able bodied scamp like you
would be ashamed to go begging
and stealing around the country.
There!
Thus terminating her lecture with
very expressive outburst, Matte
once more shut the door in the
poor tired face, and resumed her
occupation OF ironing out Aunt
AIMS Sunday lace cap.
Matte! Mattel called out the old |
woman from above stairs, where she |
was turning over the contents of a
big cedarwood chest.
Yes, Aunt Ann!
Did you send the fellow packing?
Yes, | did.
That right-that's right !chuckled
Aunt Ann. These strolling beggars
are getting to be perfect nuisance
hereabouts.
But as Matte fluted the borders
OF lace with quick, efficient hand,
thinking the while what she should
do to replace the missing pie IN time
for Aunt Ann dinner, softer mood
came over her.
Poor wretch! she murmured to
herself. Perhaps he was hungry.
He certai My did look pale and tired,
and his raas were dreadful ! wish
| hadnt snaiched those clothes
back. 1t wasn't real nice and LADY,
like Of me, now come to think OF
i Z. u;sh- e,,I1---