Sullivan republican. [volume] (Laporte, Pa.) 1883-1896, 1893-09-08

| cnlluleSS, l1Veu III u small, remote
country town in which her nephew,
James Larkin, had been born, and
from which he had gone to become q
successful young lawyer in the city.
He had not been back to the home of
his childhood for five years. AS his
Aunt Susan sad, he want No hand
to write letters" but he often sent
brief notes and little gifts to his aunt
to assure her of his affection and
gratitude.
He had not announced his engage
ment to her, and the invitation to his
wedding was one of the greatest sur
prises of Mrs. Dake's uneventful life.
"He Jest wanted to give his old
aunty big s'prise," she said to Elvira
Hodge, the village seamstress, when
she came to "fx over" Aunt Susan's
i black silk 81 couldn't believe my
own eyes at first. 1t don't seem no
longer than yesterday that Jimmy was
runnin' round here in pinafores; and
to think of him bein' married. de-
clare can't git over it
"But I'll give him s'prise, too. 1
don't intend to give him hint that
I'm comm to his weddin', and if he
won't be took back when he sees me
marchin' in on him, my name amt
Susan Elizabeth Dake Don't you
reckon his wife'll be tickled with that
quilt, Elviry?"
"They'd ought to be, that's sure, )"
said Elvira
81 think it's kind of special Provi-
dence that put in the frames when ]
did 1 didn't callate on quiltin' it
until next winter, but had kind of
feelin' that I'd better do it when 1 did,
and now it's turned out that there was
good reason why l should quilt it
then"
There was quite a company of Aunt
Susan's friends at the little station to
see her off on the morning she started.
There was unusual color in her cheeks
and unwonted sparkle in her eyes.
She bade each of her friends goodbye
two or three times, and promised to
take good care of herself. Some of
them she promised a crumb of Jimmy's
wedding cake, and full account of
the wedding festivities
can if you could git me scrap of
the brides weddin' dress an of any of
her other dresses for my silk quilt,
Susan, I'd be so pleased with 'em !"
said old Mrs. Gray.
II will if can, Nancy" said Aunt
Susan. There's the train comm
I'm so glad | could get my trunk
checked clean through! I'd be in
nice fix if that trunk should get lost
with Jimmy's quilt and my black silk
in it Where's my lunch basket? Oh,
yoh're goin' to carry it away on the
train for me, are you, Hiram Drew?
I'm 'bleeged to yod, but mind you git
off the train fore it starts. Goodbye,
Nancy; goodbye all !'
In moment the train was on its
way, Aunt Susan's handkerchief fut-
tered from one If car windows as long
as the train was within sight of the lit
| tie station.
All the people in the car noticed the
happy old lady in her queer, old fash
ioned garb. Some had not seen for
many years a shawl like the one she
wore, with its fringe foot long and
silk embroidery in the corners; but
nothing was coarse or amiss in her
dress, and there was quaintness and
charm about her that attracted the
sympathy of all the passengers.
She had not gone twenty-five miles
before she was telling some of them
nearest her all about Jimmy and jim
my's quilt, and the wedding 20 take
place on the coming Wednesday.
She was delighted to find that a mid
die aged, kindly looking woman who
was one of the passengers lived in the
city in which young Mr.. Larkin lived,
and could easily show her his board
ing house.
'I'm SO much obleeged to you said
Aunt Susan. 'Ive been dreadful nerv-
GUS bout trying to find the house my
self. 1 hated to write to him to meet
me, cause it'd take off the best part of
the s'prise. jest want to walk right
in on him.
That was just what she had the
pleasure of doing the next afternoon.
James Larkin was taking his we'd
ding suit from the box in which it had
been sent home, when there came a
knock at the door of his room.
Aunt Susan was trembling with ex-
citement when her nephew opened the
door.
''Why, Aunt Susan" he cried, and
then he took her into his arms and
kissed her on both cheeks.
There was no lack of Tenderness in
her nephew's greeting, yet the change
in him was painful to her. He was
beardless, boyish-looking young man
when she had seen him last. Now he
was tall, broad-shouldered, full
bearded man with n way TINT made it
little hard for her to call him
Jimmy" He did not say so, but
she felt that he would rather have her
call him James, and that sounded
SO cold and formal to her.
He now had the graces of city
bred young man. She found it hard
to accommodate herself to them, and
to the usages of the fashionable board
ing-house in which her prosperous
young nephew lived.
He might, perhaps, have wished that
Elvira Hodge had made his aunt's
garments more stylish when he took
her down to dinner, but he was in no
sense ashamed of her. When they
were going down stairs with her hand
! timidly resting on his arm. he made