Middletown transcript., 1894-12-22

land, where he had gone for his healtl
"Rosa was well-nigh brokeE-hearte
at irst,n said the old lady; "but tim
has softened her grief, and now sh
can speak of him as calmly as she ca
of the darling little sister who die
when she was child" From tn
same source he learned that Rosa
father had been a speculator, unluck
in all his speculations, and that when
his last greatdisappoiEtment breaki ms
his heart, he departe d this life, thel
was very little left for his widow ant
children. "Robert my only son." sai(
the old lady, helps us all he can; bu
lately he has married sweet girl, whit
has patiently waited for him five long
years, and now Rosa and l will have
to live more economically than ever, il
that be possible. But, d1ar me, how
do run on, and how Rosa would scold
me if she knew it but you are so kind
and sympathetic, Mr.. Guernsey, that
short as our acquaintance has been, ]
almost regard you as one of the family.
Rosa, my dear, l should like Mr..
Guernsey to hear that new song your
brother sent you last week."
"And would Mr.. Guernsey like to
hear it?" Rosa asks.
elbow can you ask me?' says the
old bachelor. Il am always pleased
to hear you slug" By which remark
you will perceive he had become en-
tirely reconciled to the guitar,
1t was the evening of Christmas-day.
Miles Guernsey sat alone in his parlor,
thought on his brow and pipe in his
mouth, when Mike entered with a
dainty rose-perfumed three-cornered
note.
"From the ovid maid, Sur" said
he.
"Miss Osborne, you mean," said his
mas ter, stelnly. "Don't call her an
old maid again."
"Would Mr.. Guernsey''-so the note
ran" give Mrs. aid Miss Osborne the
pleasure of his company this Christ
mas evening? Brother Robert and his
wife have come down from the city,
aud there would be little music, a
little supper, and whist.'
"Wait, ard I'll write an answer"
said Mr.. Guernsey. And while Mike
waited, he began to talk again.
"Shure We heard the news, Sur? the
village is full NV it. They say she
oughtn't "a done it: that it's incoura-
GIN wickekness an"
"Who the dickens are you talking
about2' asked his master, turning i'm
patiently around, pen in band.
"The oNld-I name Miss Osborne,
Sur" answered Mike.
"And pray what shouldn't she have
done?"
"Taken Bessie Vests baby, Sur"
"'Taken Bessie Vests babyi' Go
on this moment, Mike, or I'll brain
you with the poker"
"Well, you see, Sur" Mike, thus
admonished. vent on glibly enough,
"ye know that unfortunate story about
Bessie West, the purity sewin'-gurril?"
Eyes, yes-Heaven knows do. Not
a woman's tongue within ten miles,
except one, but has wagged about it"
"Well, Sur, last night she died, an
she sint for the owld-I name Miss
Osborne. For she was frigh;ed Nv the
other women, they'd been SO hard to
her-bad 'cess to 'em!- an half NV 'em
wild childher Nv their own, an not
knowin' what they're comm to; an
the owld-l name Miss Osborne,
wint-"
"Of course she did," interrupted his
master. go on.'
"An' she prayed wild the poor thing,
an closed her eyes; an whin she came
away she fetched the young wun wild
her. an they do say she's a-soin' to
'dopt it, an they'll niver shpake to her
agin,"
Which would be very great pityp
said the old bachelor, with emphasis,
and rather diabolical grin.
"Yis, Sur. An now suppose we'll
be afther movin', shure, for it only
naded the baby to make it compla:e:
owld-I name Miss Osborne, cats,
dogs, an babies"
"Get me my great coat" was the
only reply he received. "I'll answer
the note personally" And the great
coat on, away started Miles Guernsey
for Rose Cottage once more.
Bedad," said Mike, with an in
lUAlCdtcu Wluk, IL . nColil huCW HO
wouldn't shtaDd the baby"
Miss Osborne's parlor was that night,
if possible, brighter and cheerier than
it was on the summer day the old
bachelor first entered it. Instead of
roses, Christmas greens dotted with
brilliant red berries looped back the
curtains. enwreathed the pictures, and
dropped from vases and shells, and
right over the tall wax candle burning
on the centre table hung bunch of
mistletoe (sent with kindly greetings
and real English plum pudding from
some kinsfolk across the sea), its waxen
berries cleaning like clouded pearls
among its slender green leaves. Miss
Osborne had evidently not expected
her guest SO soon, for she sat before
the glowing crate fire with Bessie
Vests bady on her knees, its small
pink toes held out toward the welcome
warmth, and itself cooling and gurgling
after the fashion peculiar to extreme
youth.
How lovely she looked, with spray
L.