The Forest Republican. [volume] (Tionesta, Pa.) 1869-1952, 1894-05-16


Tim?" asked Ruthy, the second night |
after her arrival Miss Tmbrook had
retired, and Miss Cynthia had Ruby |
sll to herself She therefore snatched |
at the opportunity of freeing her
mind.
''You |" said Miss Cynthia, SOLEMN
ly. "Sybilla Tins just counted on
you for comfort, TO say nothing OF
helping with the bonnets. And her
spirit is broke now she knows you
amt TO be depended upon"
"Why, how SO? asked Ruthy, as
tonished at this personal criticism.
"How sol" echoed Miss Cynthia,
'tYou can see for yourself that the
business has all gone to pieces. Why,
the Kingsburys and the Lennoxes and
the Fairfelds haven't ordered bonnet
from us for an age Old Judge Peters's
widow is the only one of the old Gus
toners that has stood by us. And l
presume it's sheer pity that makes her.
Besides, it amt possible to make a
mourning bonnet homelier than it nat
urally ia. Well, I guess to shut up
shop is about all that's left for Sybilla
Tim and me.
Miss Cynthia sighed and then van
ished, hoping her remarks would make
Ruthy unhappy.
The young girl sat still awhile, try
ing TO reconcile the desire of her
heart with q growing sense of disagree
able duty. She was rather stunned
by the fact that Aunty Tins need of
her and longing for her had never oc-
Cured to her before. The stiff, old
fashioned letters which had been re-
ceived from her aunt with pathetic
regularity had conveyed to her no
idea of the yearning of the loving
heart and Aunty Tim had permitted
the hope of years to be dashed to the
ground without murmer.
Ruthy went to bed very soberly.
Her darling ambition was far from
quenched, although she was deeply
touched by her aunt's unselfishpess.
On other nights she had lain awake
picturing to herself the aesthetic side
of a life devoted to art. There were
lively dreams of the "cute" little
apartment in the tall Studio Building
in New York which she was to share
+ with Miss Dilloway, an elderly artist
friend, who was successful illustrator
} of magazines.
Ruthy meant to work like Trojan,
of course, but when one was not work
ing what Joy to inhabit such charm
8 ing rooms with their gay artist trap
pings, where there was such a darling
1 of a tea-table with fairylike cups anC
saucers, to say nothing of n brass
= kettle ready at any moment to brew {
v real Bohemian cup of teal And
I couch with such tremendous pillows
). and the funniest closets where oil sort
). of things were artfully tucked away
n Makeshifts there might be, but tn
odious ugliness of uncultured povert,
!. would, happily, be always missing.
: But tonight these Fascinating
q dreams were extinguished by tn
n homely details of Aunty Tins forlorl
s bonnet shop, and by that awful ga,
@ in 'fhe business which she kne
n cou d only be filed by herself.
That she was born milliner sh
q was at that moment too painful
n aware. Her artistic instincts woul
serve her in the making of bonne
k as well as in the painting of picture
But how could she give up her heart
,s desire, which was the "open door" t
a her of all things beautiful, just to ad
,. touch of beauty to two homely ol
d lives!
s. Ruthy turned restlessly on her pi
low. The "open door" which a
It artistic career seemed to offer her VIZ
persistently flung back in her min
!, by Charles Kingsley's imaginary ol
1t lady, "Mrs. Do-as-y
l. by" who had evidently come to sta
e until matters were adjusted more
e her liking.
i At last, Ruthy could endure ''Mrl
Il Do-as- s-you-would-be-done-by's" Sc
l. ciety no longer, and with an in
patient sigh she jumped out of bed an
D. carefully felt her way to the chambe
at across the hall. A second later, Mis-
t. Cynthia's blood ran cold as she WI
as reused from peaceful dreams by
n. sharp shake of her shoulders.
II "Lnwful sakes !" chartered the goo
20 lady. sis the house ahre, or has Il
le dam given away"
t. "Shl no. It's J." said Ruth.
1 softly. 81 want to talk to you"
ut "Aint the days long enoughP" il
m terrupted Miss Cynthia, GROSSLY.
at "Listen !" and Ruthy put her rof
IN mouth to Miss Cynthias wrinkled eI
1 and whispered mysteriously.
''You do beat all !" said Miss Cyl
ID thia, admiringly, when she at last ma
at tered the situation, and was capab
ne of doing some whispering on her oW
ne account Then, like two conspirator
er they exchanged VOWS of secrecy, al
az Ruthy stole back to her bed.
is. Next morning Miss Cynthia SCENE
?" trife more acid than usual, and Il
ss minute she had swallowed her brea
V, fast she delivered herself of the follo'
he ing:
''Seems to me, Sybilla Tim, yC
ur haven't done your duty by 'Rastuf
,e- folks. Here's 'Rastus been dead fol
d, months, an 'Rastus's widow probab
n. worn to shadow through mourni
d, an hard work, and that younge
Ak child having fits, and you, own cous
as to 'Rastus, have never been to Pei
ed broke Corners to see his folks sin
mt the funeral"
wv "Why, Cynthia You know" beg
on Miss Timbrook, fixing her eyes l