The Cook County herald. [volume] (Grand Marais, Minn.) 1893-1909, 1893-10-07
HER I ANCEsTREss' PoR-
-.s.:.. .5t:.5' TRAIT. = i" s>'a i

y .S+* TRAIT. = "a ..>.a
The place was to be sold at auction
.-house, furniture and all. 8.
This much T.. discovered by reading
the big bills that were posted on all
the trees in the neighborhood.
The auction was to. come of next
day, and every one was free to, walk
through the house and examine the
things. An old colored servant was in
charge, and was very civil. ssz<~
ODE old family is mostly defuncted,
sah,'' he said, "and spec de funichor
will go cheap. I is gwine to buy in
dat plated tray. I has used it for thir-
ty year, and the table bresh myself.
But de res is free to ebery body"
Then he trotted. about, and I ex-
amined the furniture, decided to buy
a carved sideboard, if I was not out
bid, and finally paused before the por-
trait of lady in a Venetian frame,
, and resolved to have it if had to
fight all the secondhand dealers in
Christendom. -:
It was such q sweet face-the pOr-
trait Of an ancestress of. the house, no
doubt, for the costume was of the time
of powdered hair and foWered bro
cades.> She had a band of pearls about
the throat ropes of pearls in the hair
and on her arms. In her dainty hand
she held one full-brown rose, at Which
she gazed most sentimentally, and, oh,
how young. she looked! How lovely!
How strange to think that before
ever I was born she must have grown
old and, died. Yes, and her grandchil-
dren had followed by this time, no
doubt. ~
"Ah, I fancy women were a better
sort in the days when you smiled upon
your beaus, madam said to myself,
and my mind reverted to a certain
Miss Polly Eloise, from the South, who
had Tilted me for a rich soap manu-
facturer ten years before. 1.-THE
women Of this generation have no
hearts," said..
"Ah, you'd not jilt me now, my dear.
I was only clerking it then-my salary
was but $15 a week, Polly Eloise and
you knew, it,
I sighed, however, for Cupid's ar
heart, not pulled out, and the wound
Nnkled
Eyes, you waDld have been true to
your lover, I am sure,'' sighed, still
sotto voce.
My thirty-second. birthday and my
grandfather's property had come to me
Ihogether&aI had been a rich man for
Nhree months. And my Intention was
fCS a ar oSo hd
society Of women. I intended to have
an art gallery, a collection of bric-a-
brac, to give fine dinners-to my own
sex only-to have a wine cellar, where
bottles Of rare vintages should be
found. was as much afraid Of being
married for my money as an ugly
heiress could have been. My imagin-
alton peopled the world with girls Of
the Polly Eloise sort, and vowed that
what love could not win, money should
not buy.
Meanwhile, I was reforming my
home. It was large and handsome,
with those treasures which delight the
artistic eye. This picture I thought
would hang in the library, where I
could look at it: constantly. Partly
because I thought it so fine a thing,
and no doubt the work Of some very
celebrated man, and the portrait of
some celebrated beauty, partly because
it was just the likeness Of the little an
gel that I would have chosen for my
wife if she had been a living woman
of the present generation.
She was not a bit like Polly EIOise
She had black eyes as big as saucers
and curly black hair. I can think of
i1,%i ne MI
girl of the past than that which Long
fellow gives of the shippers little
daughter:
'Blue were her eyes as the fairy fax,
Her cheeks like the dawn Of day.
And her bosom was white as the haw-
thorn buds
That ope in the month of May"
And, oh, her mouth, like the line of
Cupid's bow And, oh, those hands OF
hers; And all set off so we'll by the
fowered brocade, the powdered hair
and the ropes Of pearls.
I could think of nothing else until
the hour for the auction came, and l
you may be sure.
rived from the city, their keen eyes
SAOWSu u u@ACu YuA pOSSs WAln lAclu,
business was business. The other
usual crowd of neighbors, who came
from curiosity, but might buy if any
thing went for nothing, sat about and
talked of the people who were gone
as mot having been sociable." And
now and then I heard mention Of
Miss Phemie," some ancient spinster
Of the house, supposed, who appeared
to be still living.
.a Whats she going. to do?" asked one
old farmer Of another.
Il dunno. She amt got nothin' but
her clothes, fur as I know
The other replied:
Il suppose she could 60 out to sew.
Most women folks kin do that
At last the auctoneer began his work.
His going, going, gone! echoed through
y the house. I fingered in the dining room
to bid for the sideb0ard, but an old
dealer, like bird Of prey, In a linen
duster, got possession Of it while
stopped to answer a question an old
lady put to me. She did it in his inter