Freeland tribune. (Freeland, Pa.) 1888-1921, 1894-02-12

/
'1n money!" Be my ears a-deceivin'
of me?"
eyes, ten dollars-and in money.
It's my own, isn't it, to spend or keep,
as please9"
"It's a downright fingin' away of
money!" gasped the deacon. ''Ten
dollars Is the gal crazy Why, l
declare to goodness, it's enough to
make mans hair stand on endi"
''Here we are" cried Clara, JOY
ously springing over the wheel. "And
the freight shining out into the road,
as if the old backlog had never left
off cracking since was here last, and
Prince barking, and the big red lily in
bloom on the window Oh, it does
seem SO nice to be at home again |" =.
Mrs, Cummings hurried smiling,
to the door; but the deacon looked
sour enough as he drove around to the
barn.
III hadn't thought o going - fall
tered Mrs. Cummings.
"But you must go, motherW said
. Clara, with the bow of ribbon twisted
around her finger.
81 hain't nothin' to take"
There's that loaf of plumcake that
you baked for Sundays tea. Nothing
in the world could be nicer"
''Ive got piece o blue gingham--
three yards that l haint made TIP
INTO aprons yet, Would that doP"
wistfully questioned the poor woman.
at would be just lovelyt" pro-
tested Clara.
nj Il, 4 b L.. lar
,e the secret of the ten-dollar gold piece.
It "You see," said she, 'I feel some-
4. how as if ! were paying a debt to
As these dear old people, who have
q. worked SO hard oil these years fer SO
5e pitiful salary. And I've put the
It. money in the little, fiat shopping-b bag
rd Just like the one l gave you, dear
I'd and shall slip it into Mrs, Potter
ok hand. Won't she be surprised wher
mo she comes to open it2'
IN. Clara Cummings, however, had nj
auditor to their sweet filial confidence
N. OF whom she little knew.
ed The deacon, hanging mp his old
,r. harness, back of the kitchen door, had
XIV "It's sinful" said the deacon to
ro himself-'a absolutely sto:rptin' o
1d Providence! Ten-dollar gold pieces
ct Ginghams Loaves o cake, not to say
a, nothin' of the dried apples l was cal.
e. culatin' to fetch -don't-see-"
,d Suddenly the deacon's dull eyes
ck frightened. He came to dead stand.
ts still on the stairs. The deacon had
an idea.
er "The very thingl" he muttered to
ng himself.
Going softly to his wife's bureau, he
d. distracted the little leather reticule
ID which Clara had given her on her fifty.
u second birthday, brief while ago, ard
70 quietly substituted it for Clara's, lying
on the pillow of her bed, first, how.
h ever, placing in it's outside pocket q
s, squarely.folded one-dollar bill.
,r "Hhat'll be deal more suitable, "
thought he. "rhe bags is just alike
Sc and Clara won't know the difference.
% And I'll keep this ere gold-pice, to-
wards, the shinglin of the barn ruff
Is Goodness knows, l need money great
d. deal more than Parson Potter does
at and Clara 'ain't no business to be sc
e" wnsteful and extravagant."
a, And he went down stairs, chucklinl
to softly to himself.
r. "Ain't supper ready?" said he.
w. "Whnt cold corned beef and parsnips
IN And biscuit There want no need o.
mt anything but bread and cheese, seein
we're goin' to hev a slap-up supper te
I'd the parsonage. But women hain't nc
ly Judgment. Here, Clara, put this meal
al on the shelf for breakfast tomorrow
4. mornin'. An set them preserves back
" in the closet. Humph we'd all fetch
es rp in the poorhouse if we went ahead
this fashion"
Mrs. Cummings would have enjoyed
Is her evening at the parsonage, if her
lie husband had not glared so severely at
Ill her new bonnet.
I'd "Gloves, eh?" said he, as she climbed
ont of the wagon. squire Silleck'
lie wife don't wear no gloves. I'll go bail
" them cost fifty cents Humph !"
is 'But they're mended, father-and
r I've had 'em year,"
''Humph % was all the reply he
e vouchsafed.
r The parsop, a withered little man in
a threadbare black suit, received his
guests in a truly Christian spirit of
! regipnation