Freeland tribune. (Freeland, Pa.) 1888-1921, 1894-03-19

the smallest possible salary for the
largest possible amount of work.
As it happened, Mr.. Benjamin Gar
rick, of Rio Jsneiro, was staying at
the house on Lexington avenue, the |
one sole guest who represented the |
"household of company, mentioned
by Mrs. Garrick.
In his younger days Cousin Ben had |
been the black sheep of the family. |
But the Pierson Garricks, who had |
been the loudest in his censure while |
he was under financial cloud, were
his most devoted adherents, now that |
he had come home the lucky possessor |
of ruby mines, railway shares and
thriving coffee plantations.
"You must do your very best Cor
nelia, to make yourself agreeable to
him." said Mrs. Garrick to her tall
daughter. 'Who knows how he may
decide to leave his money!"
"Oh, by-the-wsy!" !" said Cousin Ben,
the first day that he came home TO
dinner. 81 met Burley in the Ex-
change, and he was telling Inc that
Alfred was dead"
Eyes, smiled Mrs Garrick "Some
soup, Benjamin? It's lobster bisque,
and very nice. Oh, yes-we are all
mortal !"
"Well," quoth Ben, shifting the
table with his fist, "there isn't soul
that I've calculated more on seeing
when / came back than Alfred No
body but myself ever knew how good
Alfred was to me in the days when all
yes, Louisa, you and Pierson, too
turned their back upon me. All, you
never knew it, but ] went up into the
old garret one day, with a clothes line,
to hang myself. There didn't seem to
be anything else to do. And Alfred
came after met was when that little
baby of theirs was SO ill of Group, and
he was looking for herbs to make herb
tea-and | tell you he talked to me as
no one else had ever done. And he
took his last five hundred dollars out
of the bank and packed me off to South
America with it. Oh [ sent back the
money long ago! But what could pay
for the kind words and the helping
hand-eh? Poor Alfred' So he's
dead? And that pretty little wife of
his-and the child? She grew up.
didn't she? What has become of her?
| mean to go out to Elmville to-mor-
row and see after the child They
called her some strange Spanish name
-lsidora or Isola. Alfred's wife was
always fanciful."
Mr.. Pierson Garrick swallowed his
soup silently. Mrs. Garrick and her
daughter exchanged glances behind the
tea urn.
How lucky it was that they had sent
their country cousin away For the
Garricks were money worshipers, and
the idea of diverting one cent of BEN
fortune from their own Golfers wGs
terrible to them
Benjamin Garrick went to Elmyille
the next day but to no purpose.
The old house was closed, padlocked,
and drifted knee high with frozen
January SHOWS, and no one could tell
him what had become of the solitary
child with the strange Spanish name.
And no one sympathized more deep
ly with him in his disappointment
than Cornelia Garrick
Isola had heard her father speak of
the wayward consin who had drifted
off into the auriferous South, but that
was all OF his return she knew moth
ing, or she might have felt more hope
ful that evening when the foor-walker
notified her in an Incidental way that,
as 1T was necessary to cut down their
expenses after the holidays, they had
decided to dispense with her services
thereafter.
Poor lsola Did the floor walker
know that she had but twenty-five
cents IN her pocket? that she was in
debt to the confectioner' wife? that
IN all the great, drenry city she knew
not whittier to turn?
The man made some little careless
Jest as he counted out their weeks S sal
ary, minus sundry fines, to her and
the five other victims who were on the
discharge list
They looked blankly at each other.
but went quietly away. What else was
there to do?
81 must go to Mrs. Pierson Garrick
now, said Isola, 'even though she
suhleu LIE lull III lne lace ana never
chose to recognize me to-day She is
at least woman, and she has a daugh-
ter of my own age"
The next day she paid her small
stock of money to the confectioner'
wife for the board bill-it was little
enough, and the poor woman had sore
need of it-and walked through the
deep snow to the handsome house on
Lexington avenue.
As she stood hesitating at the foot
of the steps, stout elderly gentle
man, dressed in tall silk hat and
fur trimmed overcoat, came down
them
He glanced casually at her, but she
mad turned away her face. 1t seemed
as II everybody must know that she |
was beggar, and the shame of it
oh, the shame OF it!
Pretty girl, said Cousin Ben to
himself. Hangs down her head too
much, though"